No one in my family had ever been able to afford college despite their aspirations of attending. I, too, began to wonder as I entered high school if I would be able to pursue higher education. Watching older students graduate, I feared that I would not be “good enough” for any university at all and put immense pressure on myself to maintain high grades. This stress became so intense that I had difficulty sleeping and missed a significant number of class days due to constant body aches. However, my anxieties were assuaged when I received an acceptance letter to Smith College: my first choice out of all of the institutions to which I applied. Overjoyed, I began to slap “Smithie” merchandise over everything I could, eager to begin my time as an undergraduate student. As excited as I was, I was not prepared for the experience of navigating college as a first generation student. Decisions such as which major to pursue and whether or not to study abroad were completely novel to my family and I while my peers seemed to make them with plentiful guidance and ease. Even the culture on campus felt somewhat alien to me; as if everyone there knew something that I did not. Discovering sociology as a discipline was what truly unlocked my ability to realize the self as part of a larger community. After learning about the harsh roots of classism in the United States, I began to feel more empowered and defiant rather than ostracized and alone around Smith. Every achievement that I made felt like a sign of success for not just me but my entire family. Had I not unlearned the stigma against first generation students during my undergraduate studies, I do not think I would have had the strength to pursue a masters degree at Columbia. By now, my anxieties regarding my family’s lack of experience in higher education have entirely disappeared; instead, I identify as first-generation with pride and stand tall with my peers who forged their paths in academia.