By Roberto Hernandez (he/him/his)

I am a Mexican-American first-generation student, currently a third year PhD student in the Department of Mathematics at Emory University. I come from a small under-privileged community in Los Angeles where the norm for many kids is to reach a high school diploma and pursue no higher education. My parents both migrated from Mexico and received minimal formal education in their childhoods, in fact, neither of my parents made it past middle school and somehow have always given my sister and I everything we needed to succeed. Nonetheless, my academic upbringing was a great experience – I felt supported and looked after at my undergraduate institution, as if all the faculty I interacted with genuinely wanted me to succeed. Every step I took was with a certain goal in mind: do well in classes to get accepted to a research experience for undergraduates (REU), do an REU over the summer to get into graduate school, get into graduate school to work in academia (something I’m still not so sure I want to do). All these goals were professional, but also very personal and were really only aimed at brightening my future. As a first-generation student who comes from a small, but loving family, it was hard to put myself ahead of them. During all the holidays it was just us four (my sister and parents). Any celebration, we would do together – heck, dinner didn’t feel the same if any one of us was missing and although there was bickering sometimes, I really enjoyed the time I spent with them. I felt (and still feel) a responsibility to help my family in any way I can. First-gen guilt is not easy to describe, but I think my best attempt at it is that as much as I want to help my family out, there’s this feeling that I am obligated to and choosing to pursue graduate school was almost like a rejection of that responsibility. It also didn’t help that growing up as a young boy in a Mexican household, there is this notion that men were meant to work and make money to support a family, while women were meant to stay at home and take care of kids. Unpacking the generational changes in ideology is something I am still living and working through, but the financial responsibility I feel for my family is deeply rooted. There were always jokes said at the dinner table, “nos vas a sacar de la pobreza”, translating to “you’re going to take us out of poverty”. I feel guilty that I am in graduate school, doing something which I was excited about during my undergraduate experience and wanting to preserve my interests. However, although being in graduate school will allow me in the long run to help out my family, it feels like I’ve abandoned my responsibility towards them. And it doesn’t end there…'

I didn’t really experience first-gen guilt until I got my first acceptance letter to graduate school. This moment that was supposed to be this huge accomplishment (it was and still very much is) turned into a bittersweet moment because at the time I told my family the news, it got very real. For my undergraduate experience, I attended a university that was an approximate 45 minute drive from home. It was a large state school and for the community I grew up in, this was rare. I grew up in a predominantly Latinx under-served and under-privileged community. College is not an expectation and for those of us who did go, we all attended a nearby community college and didn’t receive much support. Needless to say, I didn’t even know what graduate school was at that point. As I mentioned before, I had an influential experience at my undergraduate institution - it was there that I was exposed to the idea of graduate school and was made to believe that I would succeed in a doctoral program. This led me to the decision to apply to programs. Once accepted, I was almost certain I would have to leave my family in Los Angeles to go to school across the country. There were tears of happiness because I had accomplished something I worked really hard for, but also tears of sadness because as I said before, families like mine are not used to us going to college, let alone leaving home for college. It’s unfortunate, and probably a bigger societal issue altogether, that for families who come from a community like mine, college or higher education is wishful thinking, rather than an expectation. And so began the countdown, as the date got closer every action we took made it more and more real. I started applying for apartments, buying pots and pans, and shipping my car across the country. Nonetheless, I still chose to pursue graduate school no matter how sad it made me and my family feel because of this responsibility I feel. The responsibility I feel for their future as well as mine was strong enough to make me leave where I was most comfortable. I am now in my third year of graduate school (woo hoo!) and every time I am leaving Los Angeles to come back to my life on the other side of the country, it feels just as sad as that first time.'

Since my time at graduate school, I have missed birthdays, graduations, weddings, funerals; so many life-changing events that I wish I could have spent with my family. That first-gen guilt sometimes makes me wonder whether I made the right decision pursuing graduate school. Like is all this worth it, or was I just being selfish all along? First-gen guilt is something I feel almost on a daily basis and it’s something that I think isn’t talked about enough. I’ve been to many panels of graduate students before going to graduate school myself, and I’ve never heard anyone talk about the guilt one feels in leaving their family. I know finding first-gen folks in academia is already a hard thing to do, but I think as an advocate for people of color in STEM, I need to tell anyone reading (particularly my POC, first-gen family) that we need to be prepared for the guilt we feel when stepping into these spaces that aren’t meant for us. I know I wasn’t prepared for it because nobody told me it was a thing…

I want to end by saying that although I do still feel the guilt, my family has been supportive throughout this whole journey. They know how I feel and they’ve done nothing but tell me to worry about myself and only myself but it’s important that I have that support system. I also have an extremely supportive partner in a similar situation and our conversations together have helped ground me and made me more sure that we’ve made the right decision. To anybody who’s read this far (Hey :)), I hope that if you find yourself in a similar situation, you can find your support system just like I did.

Roberto is a 3rd year PhD student at Emory University, particularly interested in arithmetic geometry. He is committed to creating a more diverse and inclusive community in mathematics and creating opportunities for under-privileged, under-represented, students of color. In his free time he enjoys playing soccer and video games, and binging series.