Photo courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons:  Ana Paula Hirama

Photo courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons:
Ana Paula Hirama

My parents grew up in India. They were born there. They went to school there. Their families still live there, and although they have now spent a larger portion of their lives abroad than they have in their mother country, they still call themselves “Indian.”

That being said, I am proud be the daughter of two parents who tried their best to understand the American way of living in order to raise their children as “Americans.” As children raised in the United States, my brother and I believed in Santa. We went egg hunting every Easter. For breakfast, we would have dosas and scrambled eggs.

Regardless of whether or not my friends and classmates thought so, I felt as “American” as an American could get.

Still, there were areas where my family lagged. It took a while for me to understand that it wasn’t exactly the norm to be parading around school in Indian attire. It took me years to shed the thick accent I grew up with. And regardless of how hard I tried and believed, there were moments where I just couldn’t blend in, moments where my Indian-ness undeniably bled through.

But these are all things that I came to terms with as a part of my family’s culture and background. I figured they were a part of making me who I am, and I came to embrace every part of them, having to balance the two cultures on my own.

What I was not prepared for were the subtle effects that being a first-generation student ultimately had on my education.

The system for education in India is entirely different from the system we follow here. The vast majority of students in India select their professions between tenth and twelfth grade. By the time their American counterparts are in their first years in college, hundreds of thousands of Indian students are already halfway towards being trained for their professions.

Now, this is just how the two different countries differ in the way they educate their constituents; the problem with the difference lies in how little it transfers over to immigrant parents.

Last week, a mother living in my neighborhood confronted me about her eighth grade daughter. “I just don’t understand,” she said. “Does she need to know what she wants to do now? What does ‘AP’ mean? [My daughter] never tells me anything, and the Internet is no help!”

This sounded surprisingly familiar. Throughout middle school and high school, I had to teach myself how to navigate through this “foreign” schooling system. My teachers in middle school threw around the words “AP” (Advanced Placement) and “IB” (International Baccalaureate) while I silently Googled the terms from under my desk. I did not know what the SAT was until early in high school. Just this past year, I had no idea what to expect out of the college application process.

Don’t get me wrong. My parents tried their best.

But there’s just so much that two people who have never physically experienced the American education system can do about guiding their children through it. But ultimately, while other parents held their children’s hands through every school-related process, I felt like I was blindfolded in the dark, left alone to fend for myself.

And it’s not just me.

In 2009, researchers Linda Banks-Santilli and Eleonora Villegas-Reimers published a paper titled “First Generation Students and Their Struggle to Succeed.” Within this article is a section that reads “Characteristics of First-Generation Students” followed by this lengthy and relatively unsettling list:

* “Come to college with fewer Advanced Placement courses in high school, lower SAT scores, and having spent less time on homework than non-first generation students”

* “Rank themselves lower than non-first-generation students in writing and math ability”

* “Work many more hours each week while enrolled in college than their non-first-generation peers”

* “Experience more challenges separating from their families of origin than non-first-generation students”

* “Have less disposable income for semesters abroad and service learning trips, trips home on weekends or between semesters, and for daily living expenses including books and computers”

* “Are less likely to engage in extracurricular activities on campus and are more in need of professional mentoring and leadership opportunities”

* “Rank themselves lower than non-first-generation students in assessments of self-confidence”

* “Describe themselves as ‘on my own’ when it comes to navigating the financial aid process”

Furthermore, many first-generation Americans compare their entry into college with visiting a foreign country without a map or the language needed to be successful. In fact, their experiences often mirror those of American immigrants.

Surprisingly enough, the article fails to pinpoint the reasons why this may be the case. In fact, there is little to no research as to why these trends even exist. While the Internet is flooded with information on first generation college students, I could barely find a decent article outlining the experiences of first generation Americans.

Whatever the case, these invisible barriers are so incredibly real.

Recently, a friend of mine spent all of lunch on the phone with a power supply company. I found this strange. Why was a freshman who lived under Emory’s housing system calling in to complain about the power shutting off? Confused, I immediately questioned him when he put his phone down. “My uncle’s power went out, and he does not speak English well enough to have someone do something about it.” When I asked why his parents couldn’t take care of it instead, he answered, “Well, to be honest, my parents can’t do much better than he can.”

It is an unusual situation to be in and one that is not generally seen as disadvantageous or negative; still, it is one that tens of thousands of students face.

So, here is my question.

If college admissions take into account “first-generation college student” status in accepting students, why is there no movement to have a similar process for “first-generation Americans”? Why are these experiences (not to mention the many other byproducts of being the child of an immigrant that are not education-related) given any significance in considering the background of a student?

And most importantly, why is there so little research on the experiences of first-generation Americans? Why is there so little information on the overwhelming number of students who fall under this category?

Why are there no voices to speak for all of these stories?

Sunidhi Ramesh is a College freshman from Johns Creek, Georgia. 

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