When Harry arrived at Vanderbilt University in 2008, he became the first person in his family to attend college. His parents were immigrants from Nicaragua, and he had attended a so-called “academically and economically disadvantaged” high school on the North side of Miami. Even after completing a rigorous IB program as a high-school student and receiving a scholarship, he arrived on campus feeling like an outsider.
“Never before had I truly felt such an extreme sense of estrangement and alienation,” he says of his first few months. “I quickly realized that although I may look the part, my cultural and socio-economic backgrounds were vastly different from those of my predominantly white, affluent peers. I wanted to leave.”
Harry opted to stay at Vanderbilt, but he found acclimating to the school’s cultural climate to be extremely difficult. His scholarship covered books, tuition, and housing—but it didn’t cover little costs like dorm move-in needs and travel costs home for breaks—expenses his classmates could typically afford that exacerbated his feelings of alienation. Eventually, he found refuge in the school’s theatre department and student government.
“There were very few Latinos that I could connect with,” he says. “[But], I got very involved in extra-curricular activities in hopes of meeting people… It was in each of these organizations that I met older students that informally mentored me. ... I would ask questions shamelessly and learn about their experiences.”
Harry’s difficult adjustment is just one example of the many obstacles first-generation and minority students confront each year that don’t typically plague their second- and third-generation peers. Extensive studies show that low-income and first-generation students are more likely to be academically behind, sometimes several years in core subjects. They’re more likely to live at home or off-campus. They’re less likely to have gained AP credit and more likely to have to take uncredited remedial courses. And they’re more likely to face serious financial hurdles.
These challenges are sometimes so formidable that studies say that only 8 percent of low-income (many of whom are first-generation) students will graduate college by age 25. Social integration is only one piece of the puzzle for these students, and for Harry—like many other students—combating this transition can be easier with the help of older peers, teachers and guiding professors who act as mentors. While the definition of “mentor” varies, there are both informal and formal structures that have the potential to influence first-generation college persistence and graduation. Armed with this understanding, many secondary and post-secondary institutions have created programming to better support and mentor first-generation students.
In Chicago, The Noble Network of Charter Schools collects extensive data on their alumni to determine what students need in order to persist and graduate from college. Last year, nine of the campuses graduated seniors and each of these nine schools has a college counselor and an alumni coordinator—allowing students to have extensive support through the college application, matriculation, and transition process.
“It’s very intentionally called college counseling,” Matt Niksch, Noble’s Chief College Officer, tells me. “They’re not kids anymore, [and] a lot of it is about helping young adults determine the right choice for them.”
Noble schools look to a college’s institutional minority graduation rate as a predictor of student success, but even these statistics can’t always foresee what different students will face.
Caroline Kelly, a college counselor at Noble’s Pritzker College Prep, categorizes the challenges into “different buckets. One is financial, one is motivation, one is family, one is academics, and one is social integration.”