First Guilt

There is a lot of guilt and shame in being a first-generation student. Being a little child, I was not aware that I was a first-generation student; I just thought that being the first child born in America, well, sucked. My mom would tell us stories of the times she crossed the desert, and it was scary. I always had respect for my mom and the sacrifice that she had to endure to give my siblings and me opportunities for the American dream. Knowing all the hardships my mom went through to come to America accumulated a lot of guilt during the process. There is a tremendous amount of sacrifice my parents made for me to live in America, and I always felt that I could never repay that kindness.

My mom crossed through the desert at the age of twenty-two, risking her life for a better future for her family. At her age she knew that the living conditions in Mexico were not the greatest, and she had the courage to make that drastic decision. On the other hand, when I turned twenty-two, all I cared about was graduating college. I even wrote about my mom’s journey to America in my college application to get into college. All the opportunities I have had and the wonderful people I have encountered that wanted to help me were because of her. As a result, this emotion of guilt and shame started to evolve over the years. I always felt that I could never compare to her nor repay all the sweat and tears that it took for her to come here.

Times have changed drastically in the economy; it's not the same as it was when my mom was growing up in the 80s. While I attended college, I always had my mom and my family in the back of my mind. I wanted to finish college to help out my family and buy a house. I wanted to achieve the “American Dream.” When I was in middle school, I would see adults buying houses in their mid-twenties, and I would think to myself, if those people could do it, why can’t I? My goal was to attend college, graduate, and buy a house for my family. Even in present times, when I am nearly thirty years old, I still do not have money to buy a home. It really sucks that the American Dream that was depicted as obtainable is not realistic anymore; it's heartbreaking. My mom never expected me to buy a home or obtain any assets to “make it,” but it's that guilt and sacrifice that she has made that makes me feel disappointed in myself.

The feeling that what I do is not enough, or the fact that I am not enough, is a heavy burden. Whenever I felt stressed during exams or finals in college, and I would mention it to my mom, she would dismiss every emotion that I was feeling. It added more guilt to the wound, alongside the doubt and frustration. I felt frustrated with myself for feeling stressed about an exam or not having received good grades while my mom risked her life in the desert at a younger age than me. I felt that I had no right to complain about my life or struggles. I felt that my mom never fully understood the challenges of being in college or the school system. My mom would say school is “nothing” or “you are okay, you are still young,” making me doubt even more. I still felt that feeling of helplessness and not being in control, while my mom, at a younger age, knew exactly what she wanted in life. I could not help comparing my life and my mom’s life when she was my age; it made me feel that I was not doing enough in my life.