Sacrifice, Adjustment, and the Reality of Progress

  Hey everyone! I think today's blog post is going to be a little more personal than the last few. I was completely enthralled and moved by Dr. Aguilar's talk in class yesterday. His time and advice were great resources to me as a Social Work student. I was really inspired by his knowledge and achievements in the field. That's not exactly what I want to address in this post, however. His words in class were stirring, but there was one point he made in particular that hit so close to home it had me, and I hope I don't sound too dramatic, almost on the verge of tears.
  I'm sure we've all had unexpected moments of abrupt emotion. Something comes up that opens a wound we may have forgotten we had. That happened to me when Dr. Aguilar began to address the sacrifices he made and the things he lost in pursuing a higher education. As a first generation college student myself, his insights hit me in a very personal way. I don't think a lot of people assume that my background is what it is. I'm a white girl in a prestigious University, I attended an elite private middle and high school, and I think maybe those experiences reflect themselves in the way I present myself in the academic world. But, the reality is that I was not born into a situation that would naturally lead me to where I am now. I'm my Mother's second child. The first she raised as a single mother for six years. During that time, and for the first five or six years of my own life, she worked as a house cleaner. My father is a chef. He earned his culinary degree in his mid thirties after spending his preceding adult life working as a line cook in restaurants. Neither attended college. My sister and I are the first in our family to earn degrees. My sister and I attended St. Stephen's Episcopal School on a full scholarship, because our Mother took a job there as a receptionist in 1996 and the school offers scholarships to faculty and staff children who pass a certain level of testing. When I started 6th grade there my entire life changed. I drove half an hour across town to go to a school where I was the only one from a working class family. I can't imagine that this is comparable to Dr. Aguilar's experience, but I do think that I can relate to the alienation he felt. None of the kids I grew up with went to school with me after that point, and most wouldn't talk to me because they thought I was a snob for going to a private school. After high school I enrolled in Bennington College in Vermont on a partial scholarship. My sister had graduated from there a few years ago and I wanted to do anything I could to be like my Sister! There again I was in a world completely detached from the world in which I was raised and to which I feel I belong.
 Now that I'm back in Austin, having transferred to ACC and then U.T. little under two years ago, I feel more at home. I've reconnected with people from my past and to an identity I can comfortably call my own. But, having experienced nine years in a form of social exile, I can relate to the sacrifices Dr. Aguilar described. People at my high school and Bennington, not to mention anyone who hears I've attended those schools, so often assume that I'm from a background of extreme privilege. I also noticed that when I was in those environments and let elements of my actual experience, identity, and cultural heritage display, that people often would react negatively and I would be alienated from my new peer group.
  I am thankful for my experiences. I've seen a broad swath of American experience, including the dramatic differences in opportunity and lifestyle. I've had friends in trailer parks and friends in mansions. I've observed the ways in which we are all the same and the ways in which our experiences make us vastly different. Even though I can appreciate what I've learned now, I still can remember how painful it was at times to be in that position.