“I had to hustle in order to get help to go to college. I dream of a world where that support is a given.”
Growing up in Jackson Heights, I didn’t need to see the street sign to know I was at 70th Street. I could smell the Bengali, Pakistani, and Indian aromas of paprika and turmeric. I instantly knew when I approached 80th Street when music from Colombia and Ecuador filled my ears. Almost everywhere in my neighborhood, I saw people scurrying to work, or rushing to drop off children at school. However, between 70th and 80th there was a white bubble: a Starbucks, less car noise, and more birdsong. The white people looked like they were gliding, walking on air—but why?
When I began attending Central Park East High School, a predominantly Black and brown school in East Harlem, I noticed a strange phenomenon. Every morning on my commute, I saw wealthy, white parents get off at the 96th Street station, just one stop away from my high school, strolling to drop off their children–unhurried and unbothered. But in East Harlem, groups of mothers held their kids’ hands and ran toward the school building, then rushed to the train station to commute.
Over time, I’ve learned that this hustle is ever-present in communities of color like mine. My single Filipino mother couldn’t afford enrichment opportunities like private music instruction or sports programs. She worked eight hours and overtime as a travel agent for little pay. Each time I asked for something she couldn’t afford, her face fell into a pained expression, filling me with resignation. As a child, I knew I had to hustle, so I actively sought the enrichment opportunities I couldn’t afford elsewhere.
In ninth grade, the school guidance counselor promoted a program called Sponsors for Educational Opportunity (SEO) Scholars, a selective academic program that helps underserved public high school students attend college. As soon as I learned that 100% of SEO Scholars are accepted into colleges, I applied and, after a challenging and competitive process, I was accepted.
However, my excitement upon being accepted was quickly dampened. At a presentation during orientation, tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at the wealth and opportunity gap distribution projected on the big screen: 62% of the wealthiest quarter of students graduate from college, while only 16% of the least wealthy quarter do. Although the whole auditorium instinctively understood that we were at a disadvantage in the world, finally seeing a label on it–“the wealth and opportunity gap”–made us fall silent. I suddenly understood why the white people on 96th Street strolled without worries; it was their wealth that allowed them to live on the other, privileged side of that gap.
Once in the program, I gained access to resources I had never had before: I received additional instruction and tutoring on fundamental, yet deceivingly tricky topics that often go overlooked in school such as Algebra and Grammar; I was able to talk with advisors who shared their experience of what college is like and helped me explore my best fit. I was still hustling–commuting home at night after tutoring and going to school on Saturdays–but now I had support. These resources that my wealthy white counterparts could pay for, resources that I now got from SEO Scholars, helped close the wealth and opportunity gap little by little. However, it also reaffirmed how widespread and unequal this hustle is.
My disappointment evolved into a motivation to help and uplift my community. Through a program run by College Access: Research & Action (CARA), I took seminars on the college application process and started helping my peers apply to college. It was unrealistic for my school’s college counselor to meet with the hundred-or-so seniors and help them fill out every single application, so it was my job as a CARA Youth Leader to assist. In the fall of my senior year, I began helping my peers write their college statements and supplemental essays. Together, we completed the daunting financial aid applications like FAFSA and the CSS Profile. I noticed the financial aid component of college applications was difficult and even awkward for first-generation college students as money isn’t a topic easily spoken about within immigrant families. Despite the difficulties we faced, it was fulfilling to see my peers realize they could make their dreams of going to college a reality with little cost. By working as a CARA Youth Leader, I discovered the power I could have and saw the magnitude of an impact when all students have access to one-on-one college advising and support.
While it has been uplifting to see these successes and empowering to know I can make a difference, the work I’m doing to help my peers shouldn’t be needed. They shouldn’t need to apply for a ticket to social mobility and they shouldn’t have to fight for the opportunity to meet with their college counselor. In New York City, you can be one of 500 students on your advisor’s caseload, leading to a lack of support in the college application process.
All students should have guaranteed access to the types of support I have had to hustle to get. We need to support the dreams of all students by putting more counselors in schools, having more Youth Leader programs like CARA’s, and addressing the unequal funding public city schools receive across the different districts.
Now, as I sit on the subway heading home and I see fellow high schoolers commuting home, I think of other ways to support and uplift students like me. I envision a society where there are no longer systems upholding the wealth and opportunity gap, keeping us from fulfilling our dreams of going to college and of upward social mobility. However, in order to achieve this vision, I need to go to college. I am excited that I will be able to attend Vassar College this fall, where I plan to study Political Science so I can become a policy-maker to help my community thrive. But while I’m away, I hope my city can do more to support my peers who are still rushing to school and work, trying to get help on their path to college.