To celebrate First-Gen Week, we asked students to share their first-gen stories. Perla Mejia-Reyes is enrolled in Alverno Paraprofessional to Teacher Licensure program, and is planning to graduate in December. This is her story.
“Focus, focus. This is the last thing I need to finish the semester,” I said sitting at my desk hours after receiving the news that my paternal grandfather, mi Abuelo Goyo, had passed away. Tears kept rolling down my face as I tried my best to complete my last assignment. I kept telling myself that I would have time later to grieve and let myself fall apart but not in that moment. In that moment of loss, I realized how deeply being first-gen shapes the way I cope with challenges.
For many, being a first-gen student means constantly pushing ourselves to succeed, no matter the circumstances. Many first-gen students grew up hearing that there were no excuses for not being successful. Due to this, we learned to suppress those feelings, but that’s not how we will be able to succeed and, most importantly, enjoy our academic journey.
Our family has endured many sacrifices and hardships and we will also face them because we are the first in our family to deal with college processes, with adulting, with mental health, and so many other things. Despite all this, we must remember that our family made the sacrifices first and with that came a whole lot of endless opportunities. We have the freedom to choose how we’ll build on our family’s legacy, honoring their struggles while shaping our own path forward.
It means, as my Tío Cheño said at my Abuelo Goyo’s funeral, “El abuelo ya dejo un legado y solo nos queda continuar llevando el apellido en alto,” that we are uplifting our family’s name in our own way. We each are part of a family and our biggest wish is to fulfill the wishes of our parents and family, but at the end of the day we should ask ourselves “How do I want to uplift my family’s name?” You have the liberty to choose how you want to add your family’s legacy; we don’t have to be tied down to a specific way.
Even though the pain of losing my Abuelo weighed heavily on me, I realized that his strength lived within me. He, like my parents, worked tirelessly so that one day I could sit at this desk, with the opportunity to chase dreams he could only imagine. In that moment, I understood that being a first-gen student isn’t just about academic success — it’s about resilience, about learning how to balance grief and growth, and about honoring their sacrifices while daring to dream bigger.
Being first-gen means carrying two worlds within us — the world our family came from and the one we’re still building. It means learning how to navigate spaces that weren’t made for us, while remembering the voices that told us we could make it anyway. It’s okay to pause, to cry, to take a breath. Our strength doesn’t come from never breaking down, it comes from getting back up, time and time again, for ourselves and for our family and those to come.
So, as I look ahead, I carry my Abuelo’s legacy and my family’s sacrifices as both a reminder and a promise. A reminder of where I come from, and a promise to keep moving forward with purpose, love and pride. Because being first-gen isn’t just about being the first — it’s about making sure we’re not the last.
