Broadening the Path
With graduation quickly approaching, I often feel anxious about what comes next. As a resident advisor, I have been fortunate to receive housing through the university, but this privilege will end once I complete my degree. Like many pre-law students, I faced several years of financial instability before securing a job in my field that provided a livable wage—especially in an expensive city like Los Angeles.
Throughout my time as a student, I have worked various part-time jobs to make ends meet. However, many of these roles are not highly regarded in my field. Additionally, the burden of repaying student loans while trying to save for law school significantly limits what I can allocate toward rent and other expenses.
Between being a student and becoming a lawyer lies a significant financial gap. Within this gap are costs such as LSAT preparation, application fees, tuition, and temporary housing. These mounting expenses often serve as barriers for those who do not come from generational wealth or a lineage of lawyers. Many students are forced to abandon their dreams of pursuing law—or other rigorous fields like medicine and scientific research—due to the lack of financial and institutional support after completing their undergraduate education.
Creating pathways that promote equal access to stable careers is a necessary investment in our generation’s success. In recent years, it has become increasingly important for students to obtain graduate or professional degrees, yet the costs and challenges of doing so remain overwhelming. Policies that improve accessibility and help young adults navigate the workforce will be essential in fostering a future of diverse and capable leaders for our nation.
Allen, Mariah, CA
Transitional Barriers
As the daughter of immigrants and a first-generation college student, I have experienced a profound sense of insecurity while navigating higher education. This uncertainty has only deepened as I consider life after graduation. I grew up in Boyle Heights, a low-income neighborhood in Los Angeles, where severely underfunded public schools were the norm. Despite these challenges, my parents instilled in me a strong drive to prioritize my education. My father dedicated his life to hard labor so I could focus on academics and strive for a better future. Motivated by his sacrifices, I applied to college and was thrilled to be accepted.
Elated, I moved six hours away from my family to attend university in Northern California. I took out thousands of dollars in student loans and immersed myself in an unfamiliar environment, hoping I could adapt and succeed in the American higher education system. However, I soon realized that I was deeply unprepared for the whirlwind of college. For the first time, I was surrounded by students who were just as ambitious as I was—yet, unlike me, they had been raised and prepared to thrive in this space. I felt an overwhelming sense of isolation. Not only was I far from everything I had ever known, but I was also surrounded by peers whose families had generations of educational experience. My father had not even finished the fourth grade.
I had no one to guide me through the process. I completed my FAFSA alone, with my two confused, Spanish-speaking parents by my side. I wrote my application essays alone. I committed to my university alone. The lack of guidance forced me into a state of alienation. Still, I pushed through. Over time, I sought out resources designed for first-generation students, and the relief was immeasurable.
After my first year of college, I had to move back home for reasons beyond my control. I transferred to a different university and now commute. I live just five minutes away from my old high school. Occasionally, I drive past it and see students entering or leaving campus, wondering how many feel as unprepared as I once did. This reflection has only reinforced my belief in the importance of providing underrepresented students with resources that support their success—not just in preparing for college but throughout their entire academic journey.
At my old high school, 97% of students are considered “economically disadvantaged,” and the graduation rate is below the state median. Despite these barriers, many will go on to college, where they may feel lost and unsupported, lacking mentorship and guidance. This fear still follows me as I approach post-grad life with uncertainty.
Recognizing the challenges faced by underrepresented students is not enough. The financial burdens, emotional strains, and social barriers they encounter must be actively addressed. More resources need to be allocated directly to disadvantaged and underprepared students—not just to help them get into college but to support them through graduation and into post-grad life, where they are expected to secure jobs and sustain themselves. Investing in the future means showing these students that they are valued, that their success matters, and that they will be supported. We must translate these ideals into tangible programs and resources that empower them and strengthen their confidence in their abilities.
Carlos Herrero, Marisol, CA
Finding a Stable Income After Graduating from College
Since my first year of college, I have spent a lot of time thinking about the direction my career would take after graduation. I knew that having experience was crucial, and employers would closely evaluate my background to determine if I was qualified for any position I applied to. To build my experience, I pursued numerous internships and part-time positions in various fields, including career services, homelessness research, student services, and immigration services. Through these roles, I developed strong reading and writing skills, which I believe will make me competitive for an administrative job to support myself after graduation.
My ultimate career goal is to work as a policy analyst for a nonprofit focused on immigration or homelessness issues. Of course, this is a long-term objective, so my immediate plan is to secure an entry-level policy-related job and later apply to graduate programs to earn a Master’s in Public Policy. I have actively searched for entry-level policy jobs on various job platforms, including Indeed, Handshake, and LinkedIn. However, since graduating in June, I have struggled to find a full-time position in my field.
Finding employment after graduation has caused me financial hardships. Since I could not continue working at my university job, I had to move back home with my parents, knowing I couldn’t afford rent without a stable income. I have applied to numerous positions but received very few responses from employers and fewer interview opportunities. In most cases, I receive no updates on whether my application is under review—even after following up two weeks later.
It is frustrating to feel qualified for entry-level positions yet hear nothing back from employers. The stress continues to build as my expenses pile up. I have also noticed that many job postings are outdated or no longer accepting applications, which may explain why I receive so few responses. Additionally, finding entry-level policy positions in my area has proven difficult. I’m unsure if this is due to my location or if there are limited opportunities for entry-level roles in policy. Most of the positions I come across are senior-level, for which I am not yet qualified.
I would love more support in navigating the policy field and identifying entry-level job opportunities that could eventually lead me to my long-term goal. Are there alternative entry-level roles that, while not directly policy-related, could help me build the experience necessary to transition into policy work? I know there are multiple paths to achieving my career goals, but I am struggling to determine what those paths look like.
Garcia, Amy, CA
My Story
I was born in La Piedad, Michoacán, Mexico, and first came to the U.S. when I was five years old. I was raised in the small, rural town of Esparto, CA. I have always known that I wanted to help my community; therefore, one day, I hope to be able to give back to them.
I am one year away from graduation, nearing the completion of my four-year program. As I approach this milestone, I often think about my future career aspirations and what lies ahead. For as long as I can remember, I have dreamed of working for the United Farm Workers (UFW) because of the union’s historical impact, starting with Cesar Chavez and Dolores Huerta. More importantly, I am passionate about the causes UFW fights for. Having seen firsthand the injustices my parents endured while working in agriculture, I want to advocate for workers’ rights.
Now that I am older, I would love to be part of a government affairs team, working closely with legislators to improve working conditions and wages. Although I have mentors already working at UFW, I still have doubts about securing a job there as I get closer to graduation. I also wonder whether I should continue my education and pursue a master’s degree in educational leadership and policy instead.
I have seen how difficult the job market is. Despite having bachelor’s degrees, many of my friends struggle to find jobs in their fields and often end up working in unrelated roles. Sometimes, they are overqualified, but financial responsibilities take priority. I believe internships are crucial in shaping a student’s career path. I had the opportunity to intern with the Congressional Hispanic Caucus Institute (CHCI) and was placed with the U.S. Department of Education in Washington, D.C. This experience helped me realize that working in the federal government is not for me, but I gained valuable insights that I appreciate.
I have been working as a legal assistant at the Law Offices of Omar Gonzalez for almost two years. While I am not interested in attending law school, this job provides financial stability for the near future. As long as I choose to stay, my position is secure. However, I sometimes feel stuck. The job market is highly competitive, and earning a master’s degree may be necessary to improve my career prospects. That is why I am considering further education.
Although my original plan was to pursue a master’s in educational leadership and policy, I am also exploring the possibility of studying public policy and administration. I want to make the best decision for my future and ensure that whatever path I choose allows me to create meaningful change for my community.
Gutierrez E, Antonio, CA
Grown-ish to Grown
When we leave college, we all feel grown. Even while in college, we feel grown-ish. We feel as though we hold the world in our hands. However, as I approach the end of my college journey, I realize that the risk of leaving college unemployed is constantly increasing. Entry-level positions ask for 3+ years of experience, as if that qualifies as an entry-level employee. Internships help, but I don’t have years to be unemployed with the ever-changing economy, and there aren’t many programs to assist students in securing a job.
As a first-generation student and a Black woman wanting to get into politics, all odds seem to be against me. However, I am always met with the same reason for denial: “limited experience.” But how am I supposed to have enough experience for an entry-level position that requires a degree I couldn’t have obtained without first graduating, yet demands 3 years of experience when I just graduated a few months ago? The job market seems to be working against new grads. More opportunities for new graduates would help many individuals.
To make the transition from grown-ish to grown much more adaptable and smooth, employers should offer more internships or create career programs that guarantee a set number of new grad hires or apprenticeships for a year. This would help address the most significant obstacle—experience—while providing possible job offers and secure futures for students, something many long for. When you’re grown, you want a stable source of income and a secure future. This approach would significantly impact the transition from grown-ish to grown.
Jones, Keirah, CA