Experience in Higher Education

When I was eight, I watched all my friends receive everything they asked for, such as new shoes, toys, and school supplies. By the time we turned 16, they were getting new cars, phones, and handbags. Meanwhile, I had to sit back and live vicariously through them as my parents scrimped and saved to buy me new shoes if I was lucky. If not, I would usually get the old “there’s always next year” line. The years passed, but my situation remained unchanged.

When my senior year of high school arrived, a shift occurred. Conversations no longer centered around teenage drama; instead, they were consumed by the nerve-wracking wait for college acceptance letters. I had always thought college was something only seen in movies. I had never met anyone who had gone to college, and it wasn’t part of my five-year plan after graduating high school. Actually, scratch that; I had no idea college was even an option for me. I remember one night visiting the USF website and thinking, “Okay, now what?”

Growing up in a predominantly white city, I believed the only difference between my friends and me was the language we spoke at home. However, as I got older, I realized our differences extended far beyond the color of our skin. At seventeen, I experienced a culture shock within my own surroundings, within the community I once thought I belonged to.

Community college became my path to further discover who I was and how someone from a low-income family could one day attend a four-year university. As a child, I dreamt of having that quintessential American college experience I saw on TV, but no one told me my experience would be different. Despite receiving an education, I felt limited in my student experiences, lacking opportunities for extracurricular activities and studying abroad.

In my fifth year of college, I had to fulfill a quarter of studying abroad to meet graduation requirements. I knew I couldn’t afford it and was terrified at the thought of taking out a loan. My only solution was to pursue an internship in DC. The prior summer, I juggled three on-campus jobs and a part-time job outside of school, working about 60 hours a week to cover living expenses. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.

Proudly, I identify as a non-traditional student. It took me eight years to earn a bachelor’s degree. Throughout those years, I faced food insecurity, cultural imposter syndrome, and economic inequalities. College should be a path, not a barrier. I hope to see more Indigenous women in higher education institutions. The Young Invincibles policy agenda to expand basic needs services gives me hope to pursue a Master’s Degree. My experiences, along with those of my peers, align with the policy agenda to prioritize students in the development of support services.

Andrea Morales is a proud member of the P’urepecha Indigenous community from Michoacan and a graduate of UC Irvine.

Demystifying Higher Education

I am thrilled about our policy agenda aimed at Higher Education and the potential for resource-sharing that these efforts will provide for future generations. It’s crucial for people to be aware of campus programs that offer financial and social benefits. Aligning values with student needs is essential in the policy discussion.

I am a strong advocate for cross-curricular activities and international education because they broaden opportunities for underrepresented students to explore different parts of the world and participate in shared cultural experiences that enrich their lives. I understand from personal experience that many individuals are eager to take advantage of study abroad programs, but financial costs often deter them. However, I’ve learned that where there’s a will, there’s a way, and I’ve consistently used that mindset to advocate for students in terms of financial equity and resource building.

I’m eager to see how the Cradle-to-Career database will empower prospective students and enable them to make informed decisions about their next steps, whether in terms of finances or career goals. Maintaining a young adult perspective ensures that their voices are heard and that they remain the primary stakeholders in higher education.

Debt, in its various forms, is both obscure and obvious, often carrying significant implications. Schools should guide students through the financial aspects of their education and equip them with the tools to manage their debt (if any) effectively while also providing alternative methods to cultivate strong budgeting habits.

I consider myself fortunate to have been a student worker on campus and to have had access to other financial opportunities that helped me manage payments as a housing student and cover other attendance-related fees. Unfortunately, I recognize that this reality isn’t shared by many students, some of whom juggle part or full-time jobs to meet their basic needs while also being full-time students.

Something must be done, and through coalition-building and sharing my story, I hope to contribute to facilitating change and dialogue. Education is increasingly becoming a critical determinant of citizens’ quality of life and upward mobility. Let’s shift the conversation to normalize the importance of social capital!

Christopher Hendrix is a 2023 graduate of California State University Dominguez Hills, with Bachelor’s Degrees in Political Science and Psychology, with a minor in Public Administration. Throughout his college career, he was a leading student advocate on his college campus, both academically and socially. During his tenure, he served as Vice President of Finance for student government, emphasizing transparency and budget sustainability.