Storytelling is central to advocacy at Young Invincibles. Illinois Young Advocates share their stories on equitable systemic funding, mental health, and non-traditional workforce training programs.
Check them out below:
Prompt: Tell us a story describing how being able to pay for college has affected your life and career, and share your thoughts on how an equitable funding formula for public higher education institutions will benefit you.
How Financial Support for College Shaped My Journey
Growing up as a first-generation college student, the path to higher education often felt uncertain. Like many in my community, the dream of attending college came with pressing concerns about affordability. The rising costs of tuition, textbooks, and living expenses made me question if my aspirations were out of reach. Fortunately, financial support programs enabled me to pursue my education without accumulating debt, transforming my life and opening doors to opportunities I never thought possible.
As I approach graduation, I see clearly how financial support has shaped my journey. Without the constant worry of making ends meet, I’ve been able to fully engage in valuable internships, research, and other initiatives that align with my career goals in public affairs and communications. Instead of working long hours just to cover basic expenses, I’ve focused on learning, building skills, and connecting with mentors who’ve guided me along the way. This foundation has been instrumental in preparing me for the future.
My story, however, is far from unique. Many students—especially those from low-income and historically marginalized communities—face similar struggles. The financial strain of higher education often forces students to prioritize income over education, limiting their ability to engage in meaningful opportunities that build their skills and confidence. An equitable funding model for public higher education could change this reality.
We can create a more inclusive and fair education system by allocating resources based on need and ensuring students from all backgrounds have access to financial support. A funding model that prioritizes equity would enable students from under-resourced communities to pursue their goals on equal footing with their more affluent peers. It would allow more students to focus on their studies, participate in internships, and graduate ready to succeed in the workforce—without the burden of overwhelming debt.
Accessible funding isn’t just about covering tuition. It’s about empowering students to thrive and reach their full potential. Financial support gave me the freedom to choose a path aligned with my passion for public service, a path I might not have been able to pursue if I were weighed down by debt. By advocating for an equitable funding formula, we can ensure that future students have the same opportunities to succeed, regardless of their financial circumstances.
Anonymous Young Adult, IL
The Pursuit of Education & The Need For State Funding It!
Growing up in a Black, working-class family, the idea of attending a four-year college felt like something out of a movie—not a reality for me. Education was always emphasized as the path to a better life, but the financial burden made it seem out of reach. My mother worked long hours, while my sisters, grandmother, and aunt stepped in to provide support wherever they could. The adults in my life often told me that college was my only chance to survive and thrive as an adult. Raised on the Southside of Chicago, where many of my peers didn’t even make it to their high school graduation, I saw higher education as a lifeline—a way to create a purpose and future that hadn’t yet been written.
When I started my college journey, my goals were simple: make friends, join a few clubs, get a job to pay for my books, navigate my education, and graduate. But the risks and challenges quickly became apparent. Chief among them was the question of how to pay for college. My family and I were determined to avoid the heartbreak of starting school only to drop out due to financial issues. I applied to 40 colleges, and while I was accepted to almost all of them, the only school with an affordable financial aid package was Monmouth College, a rival to the college I had hoped to attend.
Monmouth College offered a financial aid package that included work-study for 10 hours a week, a Pell Grant from the State of Illinois, and a family contribution of $10,000 a year. It wasn’t a full ride, but it was enough to make my college education possible. The Pell Grant didn’t just help cover tuition—it shaped my future. It spared me from taking on crushing debt or working multiple jobs just to stay afloat. Instead, I had the time and mental space to immerse myself in my classes, pursue internships, study abroad, organize student groups, and get involved in social justice issues both on campus and back home.
While I still worked work-study jobs and part-time positions to pay for materials and other expenses, I was able to focus on developing my leadership skills and building my future—not just surviving the semester. These experiences opened doors that a degree alone never could have. I found my purpose in a career I chose, not just a job to make ends meet.
Looking back, I see how pivotal access to financial resources was in shaping my career. Without that support, I might have abandoned my dream of becoming a social justice organizer and public policy expert. Instead, I now work to advocate for systemic change—empowering young people, formerly incarcerated individuals, and other disenfranchised groups through civic engagement and elections.
This is why I am a passionate advocate for equitable funding in higher education. An equitable funding formula for public colleges and universities could transform communities like mine. By allocating resources based on need rather than tuition rates or geographical location, we could level the playing field for Black, Brown, and working-class students. Public institutions could offer affordable, high-quality education to everyone, not just those with financial privilege.
Imagine the ripple effect: More students graduating without overwhelming debt. More young professionals pursuing careers that drive meaningful change. More leaders emerging from marginalized communities to shape public and private sectors alike. Access to higher education shouldn’t depend on the ability to write a check—it should be available to anyone with the drive to transform their lives and their communities.
For me, the impact of being able to afford college wasn’t just about avoiding debt. It was about reaching my full potential and building a life that honors the sacrifices of my family and the opportunities they worked so hard to provide. We need to ensure that kind of opportunity is available to everyone. With equitable funding, we can make higher education a tool for transformation—for individuals, for communities, and for our nation.
Anthony Bryant, IL
The Invincible Hurdles: My Quest For Educational Equity
Until my junior year, I hadn’t seriously considered college—no one in my family had completed a degree. My teachers emphasized that our ACT scores would shape our educational opportunities, so I committed myself to countless hours of preparation. The ACT, a standardized test assessing college readiness in math, reading, English, and writing, became my focal point. I juggled rigorous test prep with my part-time job at The Better Boys Foundation (BBF), where I worked four hours a day in the film lab, learning about filmmaking and earning money to support my education.
Understanding the value of education, Mary Visconti, the director at BBF, hired a tutor for all juniors to help us prepare for the ACT outside of school. This additional support, combined with my dedication, fueled my determination. Coming from a low-income family, I knew my academic performance and extracurricular activities had to stand out. By my senior year, I had a 3.3 GPA, was a National Honor Society member, completed over 200 volunteer hours, created a student council group, and maintained a job. My hard work paid off when I was awarded scholarships from Links Incorporated, BBF, and the American Association for Journalism.
With these scholarships, I chose to attend Northern Illinois University (NIU), where my sister had enrolled the year prior before financial constraints forced her to withdraw. I believed my experience would be different, thanks to my scholarships. To save money, I lived in Lincoln Hall—the cheapest dorm on campus, which has since been closed due to poor conditions. I quickly found an on-campus job at The Northern Star newspaper, limited my spending to essential class materials, and stuck to a strict diet of ramen noodles, skipping the typical “freshman 15.”
As the semester neared its end, I was excited to register for spring classes. However, I discovered a hold on my account due to an outstanding balance, even after applying my Pell and MAP grants, loans, and personal contributions. At the financial aid office, I was told my only option was a Parent PLUS Loan. Heartbroken, I reached out to my mom, a single mother battling stage two cancer. She was unable to apply for the loan due to predatory requirements that disadvantaged low-income, single parents already struggling to make ends meet.
With no other options, I withdrew from NIU, took a full-time job, and enrolled at a city college alongside my sister. The transition was disheartening, and I felt unsupported and directionless, without the resources or mentorship needed to navigate this new chapter. It took me years to obtain my associate’s degree and grapple with the emotional weight of having done everything “right,” only to be met with insurmountable obstacles.
Students from marginalized communities need more than superficial recognition on paper to meet diversity, equity, and inclusion goals. Our unique challenges must be addressed holistically. The gray areas of being a non-traditional student—like family responsibilities, financial barriers, and personal hardships—are often overlooked. True progress means creating policies and support systems that acknowledge these realities and treat students as whole individuals, not just lines on a FAFSA form or a college application.
Kia Clair, IL
Prompt: Tell us a story about how you have benefited from access to mental health services on your college campus, including any obstacles you had to overcome to gain access to services.
The Crossroads Of Education & Mental Health On College Campus
Mental health issues among college students have long been stigmatized, yet their impact can be life-threatening if left unaddressed. College is a time filled with identity crises, academic challenges, life-changing experiences, and personal transformations—all of which can strain one’s mental well-being. For a Black man from Chicago attending a predominantly white institution (PWI) in a small town, these challenges were amplified by cultural dynamics, social isolation, and systemic barriers. Access to mental health services on campus became a lifeline that significantly benefited my emotional and psychological well-being. However, the journey to finding support was fraught with obstacles. My hope is that this essay inspires others to overcome these challenges and seek the support they deserve.
The transition to college can be overwhelming for any student, but for Black students at PWIs, the pressures are compounded by microaggressions, cultural dissonance, and feelings of alienation. Research shows that Black students often face higher levels of stress due to racial discrimination and a lack of community support. For Black men in particular, societal expectations of masculinity discourage vulnerability, making it even harder to acknowledge mental health struggles, let alone seek help.
In my first semester, I battled anxiety, stress, and isolation. I tried to manage these feelings on my own, believing they would subside with time. But as coursework, exams, and the pressure to build social connections mounted, I found myself increasingly overwhelmed. My mental health began to deteriorate, and I realized I couldn’t navigate these challenges alone.
Seeking help from the campus counseling center was a turning point. They offered individual therapy sessions, mentorship, and stress management workshops. Speaking with a counselor for the first time was transformative. For the first time, I felt truly heard. Together, we identified the root causes of my anxiety and developed coping strategies, such as mindfulness and cognitive-behavioral techniques, that helped me regain control.
However, accessing these services was not without its challenges.
As a young Black man from Chicago, I had been conditioned to “push through” difficulties without showing vulnerability. Growing up in a community where survival often took precedence over self-care, admitting I needed help felt like a weakness. This stigma made me hesitant to seek support, especially in the competitive environment of a PWI. It wasn’t until I confided in professors, who encouraged me to prioritize my well-being, that I found the courage to schedule my first counseling appointment.
Another barrier I faced was the limited availability of mental health resources. My college had only two counselors to serve a student body of 1,300, leading to long wait times. I was placed on a waiting list for several weeks before securing an appointment, during which my anxiety worsened. To cope in the interim, I turned to self-help resources, created informal support groups with other Black students, and attended workshops. These stopgaps underscored the need for more accessible mental health services on campus.
The lack of cultural competence among mental health professionals was one of the most significant challenges I faced. While the counselors were well-meaning, their understanding of the unique experiences of Black students was limited. I often felt that my experiences with racism and cultural dissonance were misunderstood or dismissed. This disconnect made it harder to fully trust the therapeutic process.
To address this gap, I took what I was learning as a psychology and sociology student and created spaces where Black students could feel heard and supported. I organized workshops and conversations about mental health, identity, and community, fostering a sense of belonging that the counseling center alone couldn’t provide.
As a student juggling academics, extracurriculars, part-time jobs, and leadership roles, finding time for therapy was another hurdle. My fast-paced college life often left little room for self-care. Fortunately, the counseling center offered flexible hours, which allowed me to prioritize my mental health without compromising my academic responsibilities.
Access to mental health services was instrumental in my personal growth and academic success. Over time, I came to understand that college students need more than just therapists. We need peer support, culturally relevant counseling, and community-based practices to navigate the unique pressures of higher education.
Mental health resources must also address systemic inequities, such as the lack of diverse counselors, inadequate funding for mental health programs, and the stigma surrounding mental health in marginalized communities. By investing in comprehensive mental health services—peer-led initiatives, community-building workshops, and culturally competent counseling—we can create campuses where every student feels supported and empowered.
For me, seeking help was not just about overcoming anxiety; it was about advocating for a better system. As college campuses become increasingly diverse, addressing the mental health needs of all students is no longer optional—it’s essential. Everyone deserves the chance to thrive, both academically and emotionally, and it starts with equitable access to mental health support.
Anthony Bryant, IL
Why We Need Fully Funded Campus Mental Health Services
As a student, I understand just how challenging college life can be. Balancing coursework, job responsibilities, and personal life is often overwhelming, and for many students, mental health support is the crucial factor that helps them keep going. While I personally receive mental health services outside of campus, I see how vital it is for students to have accessible resources on campus—especially for those who don’t have other options.
The demand for campus mental health services has only grown, particularly as anxiety and stress become more common among our generation. On-campus services offer a lifeline for students who may not have the time, transportation, or financial means to seek care elsewhere. However, for these services to meet student needs, they must be fully funded and equipped to handle the demand.
This means going beyond just offering counseling. Fully funded campus mental health initiatives should include proactive programming, crisis intervention, and preventative care that addresses student well-being throughout the year. Unfortunately, many students who rely on campus services encounter significant barriers—such as long wait times or limited access to counselors. These gaps can delay or even prevent students from getting the help they need during critical moments.
Fully funding the Mental Health Early Action on Campus Act could make a meaningful difference. This funding would give campuses the resources to hire more counselors, expand services, and ensure that no student is left behind.
Investing in mental health is an investment in student success. Mental health care isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity that supports students’ academic achievements, personal growth, and overall well-being. By fully funding on-campus mental health initiatives, we can create a supportive environment where every student has the tools they need to thrive.
Kayla Pilgrim, IL
Mental Health: The 2019 Mental Health Early Action on Campus Act
Navigating mental health in college has been an incredibly daunting experience, especially as an African American woman. I’ve always been aware of the unique pressures I face. College, by nature, is anxiety-inducing, with its heavy coursework and the competitive attitudes of peers. Balancing academic success with personal challenges, all while feeling the need to represent my family, has been one of the most difficult challenges I’ve encountered.
My mental health struggles were rooted in societal expectations and the immense pressure to excel academically. At the same time, being in environments with peers from vastly different and often more privileged backgrounds created an additional layer of stress. The feelings of isolation and the weight of expectations became overwhelming. While these challenges are deeply personal, I believe they resonate with many college students at some point in their educational journey.
Thankfully, programs like the 2019 Mental Health Early Action on Campus Act exist to support students like me. This act offers early intervention strategies, training and resources for staff and communities, and, most importantly, funding for mental health services. I am incredibly grateful for the counselors who have helped me, knowing their support is made possible because of this vital resource.
Kia Clair, IL
Prompt: Traditional educational and career paths are not ideal for all young adults. Many young adults turn to apprenticeship or workforce programs to equip them with the skills and knowledge to enter a specific industry. Share an experience of participating in a workforce training program or a personal story of how a non-traditional program could have benefited you.
Embracing A Generational Opportunity By Activating A Unique Workforce Program
In recent years, the assumption that attending a four-year college or university is the best or only pathway to career success has been increasingly challenged. While higher education offers valuable opportunities for many, it is not the ideal route for every young adult. As industries evolve and the job market shifts, the demand for alternative workforce training programs has grown. These programs—such as apprenticeships, vocational training, and specialized certifications—equip young people with transferable skills, practical experience, and professional networks that prepare them to thrive in a rapidly changing economy and society.
During college, I worked in various roles: the mailroom, cafeteria, academic success office, and admissions office. These experiences taught me practical skills but left me uncertain about my readiness to enter my desired career field. Feeling uninspired and unclear about my direction, I took a year off to explore the job market.
In that year, I taught at Tilden High School through City Year Chicago, ventured into network marketing with Amway, wrote insurance policies for World Financial Group, and led community-organizing efforts with advocacy groups. These diverse experiences helped me develop transferable skills such as teamwork, creative problem-solving, and professional relationship-building. That year provided me with more hands-on learning and self-discovery than my previous three years of college combined.
While my college studies in psychology, sociology, anthropology, philosophy, and religious studies had inspired me to help others, my year of workforce exploration reshaped my aspirations. I became motivated not just to study people but to actively build communities and advocate for systemic change. This experience taught me the value of learning through doing and how non-traditional paths can shape a clearer sense of purpose.
Looking back, I realize how a structured non-traditional program, like Public Allies Chicago or AmeriCorps, could have provided me with an even greater advantage. These programs offer practical, on-the-job training, mentorship, and professional development that would have helped me clarify my goals earlier, saving both time and money. Instead of accumulating debt and navigating a winding educational path, I could have entered the workforce sooner with confidence, direction, and skills directly aligned with my career aspirations.
Non-traditional workforce training programs also expose participants to a broader network of professionals, industries, and perspectives. This diversity of experience is invaluable, especially for young adults seeking to explore their interests, test career options, and innovate in ways traditional models may not encourage.
Beyond individual benefits, non-traditional programs address systemic challenges. They help close skills gaps, reduce educational disparities, and foster economic equity. By offering accessible and affordable alternatives to traditional college, these programs prepare participants for careers in in-demand fields, from technology and healthcare to skilled trades and public service.
For example, apprenticeships and vocational training not only provide specialized skills but also ensure participants earn while they learn—reducing student debt and offering financial stability. Such programs can also promote innovation by empowering participants to create new opportunities and career paths that align with their unique strengths and passions.
If our cities, states, and country invest in expanding non-traditional workforce training programs, we can build a generation of leaders equipped to overcome systemic inequities and provide opportunities for others. These programs not only empower individuals but also strengthen society. They create a more inclusive and adaptable workforce prepared to meet the challenges of the 21st century.
By embracing and funding these alternatives, we can redefine success beyond the confines of a four-year degree. We can foster a workforce that values diverse pathways to achievement—one that is not only skilled and innovative but also equitable and inclusive. It’s time to recognize that there is no single route to success and invest in the tools and opportunities that allow everyone to thrive.
Anthony Bryant, IL
Beyond the Degree: How Workforce Training Paves the Way to Success
As graduation approaches, my friends and I often talk about the uncertainty that comes with entering the job market. It’s a real fear among students—how to find a job if you don’t have years of experience? While many students have gained valuable knowledge in their majors, the job market often demands more than just a degree. That’s where non-traditional workforce training programs come in.
Many of us are realizing that these programs, like apprenticeships or short-term skill training, offer the practical experience we need to stand out. These opportunities provide a bridge between our academic knowledge and the real-world skills employers expect. In a time when landing a job post-graduation feels daunting, workforce training offers a way to gain experience without committing to lengthy, expensive schooling.
The hands-on approach of workforce training allows young adults to dive directly into the tasks and responsibilities of their chosen industry. In this way, it’s not just about learning the theories. These programs give you a chance to solve real world problems, collaborate with others, and build the soft skills needed to thrive in the workplace. For my peers and I, this is especially important as we begin to navigate the competitive job market.
Additionally, these programs are accessible and flexible. They often offer quicker pathways into industries without the need for another degree or expensive tuition fees. With many of us needing to work to support ourselves soon after graduation, this flexibility makes workforce training a practical option.
Ultimately, non-traditional training is an important part of ensuring young adults like us can succeed in the workforce. As more of my friends and I face the fear of entering the job market without experience, these programs provide a lifeline, helping us gain the confidence and skills to turn our education into real career success.
Kayla Pilgrim, IL
Preparation Meets Success: Navigating The Work Force As A Young Adult
“Preparation meets opportunity,” but there must be more preparation to fully understand and access the opportunities available to you.
After transferring from Kirkwood Community College in Iowa, where I earned an Associate’s degree in Liberal Arts, to Northern Illinois University (NIU), my passion for pursuing a career in law deepened. Working as a billing and collections specialist at a law firm in Chicago further solidified my desire to immerse myself in all the resources and opportunities available to me as an African American woman and first-generation college student.
At NIU, I’ve made it a priority to seek out student activities, work programs, internships, and diversity groups as an integral part of my educational journey. These experiences not only help me grow personally but also differentiate me from other candidates applying to law school. As a pre-law student striving to gain experience, my journey in the workforce has been met with various challenges and barriers, including limited access to mentorship and non-traditional training programs.
Now in my junior year, I’ve come to realize how critical it is to have workforce development programs tailored for young adults—especially for those from underrepresented backgrounds. These programs can bridge the gap between education and career readiness, equipping students like me with the tools to succeed in competitive fields like law.
Kia Clair, IL