Finding My Edge When No One at Home Spoke English

By Sofia R. (not her real name), First-Gen Student

When I tell people I’m the first in my family to go to college, they nod politely, like they’ve heard that story before. But it’s different when your parents can’t read the emails you’re getting from your school counselor. When FAFSA is not just a confusing form, but an unfamiliar acronym in a language that’s not spoken in your home. When college isn't just far—it feels like another country.

My parents immigrated from El Salvador when I was six. My dad paints houses. My mom cleans offices at night. Both of them are brilliant in ways that don’t get degrees. But when I started thinking about college, I knew I was stepping into something none of us understood.

That was scary. And lonely. Until I found someone who had lived it—and was just a few years ahead of me.

“You Don’t Have to Do This Alone”

I met Jasmine (not her real name), a peer advisor, at a college prep session my school hosted. She was a senior at a local university and the daughter of Vietnamese refugees. The first time we talked, I asked if her parents spoke English.

She smiled and said, “Nope. And they still think FAFSA is a type of soup.”

That’s when I knew I could trust her.

Jasmine didn’t talk to me like a counselor. She talked to me like an older sister who’d already walked through the fog and could point out where the potholes were. She didn’t just help me with the “how” of college apps. She helped me understand that my story wasn’t a weakness. It was an edge.

My Story Wasn't a Liability. It Was My Strength.

For a long time, I thought I had nothing to say in my personal statement. I hadn’t started a nonprofit or traveled the world. I just helped my little brother with homework while my mom slept after the night shift. I translated hospital bills. I filled out job applications for my dad. None of that felt “college essay” worthy.

But Jasmine saw it differently.

She asked me questions no one else had. “What have you had to figure out that most other kids haven’t?” “What kind of strength does that take?”

She helped me realize I’d been problem-solving since I was nine. That I’d learned patience, precision, and grit—not from a textbook, but from life. And she showed me how to write that down without sounding like I was trying to make anyone feel sorry for me.

She helped me sound like me—only more confident.

The Questions I Didn’t Know I Could Ask

There were so many things I was embarrassed to admit I didn’t know. What’s a liberal arts college? Do I need to take the SAT again? What’s the difference between early action and early decision?

I didn’t want to waste my counselor’s time. But Jasmine kept reminding me, “Your questions are valid. Ask them all.”

That made a huge difference. When I got my first acceptance letter, I didn’t cry because of the school’s name. I cried because I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.

Paying It Forward

I’m a sophomore in college now. I still call my parents every day and explain what midterms are. They still think dorm food is fancy. But they’re proud of me—and that means everything.

I’ve started mentoring other first-gen students at my school. I tell them what Jasmine told me: You’re not behind. You’re not alone. And you’re not less capable just because no one in your house went to college before you.

In fact, that might be exactly what makes you stand out.