Dear Alumni and Friends,
This August marks 26 years since I stepped foot on Berea’s campus as a first-year student. We pulled up to Talcott Hall in a truck borrowed from my aunt and uncle, just before temperatures became scorching. I walked into my quaint quarters, filled with excitement and batting back the overwhelm and uncertainty tickling the edges of my mind. I didn’t bring much, and the room wouldn’t hold much. After a hearty thank you to the students and staff who helped move my things, a grocery store run and a three-hour traffic jam, I waved goodbye to my mom.
And then I just stood there. Alone for one of the first times in my life.
It wasn’t the new place that made me nervous—as a military brat, I had moved many times. But I’d always had my brother there with me to hold my hand when I was little and to give me a reassuring nod as we grew older. This time, I knew no one and nothing about this new place. Yet, my brother and I were still embarking on a journey together. Two years before, he had been the first in our family to go to college—and now it was my turn to follow suit.
We were both first-generation students. We were on different campuses, more than 100 miles apart, but we were both proving to our mom, each other and ourselves that we could create a new legacy in our family.
It only took a couple of hours, one night of silly ice-breaker games and a Student Life staff full of warm and inviting people to help me settle into my new home—and one of the greatest challenges I would conquer in my young life.
And the rest is history. I’ve written many times about meeting my husband, the incredible teachers and mentors I encountered and the immense support I received at Berea. But one of the most intangible gifts Berea gave me, as I maneuvered classes and scheduling, residence hall assignments and work opportunities, was the reassurance I felt being surrounded by other students like me who financially thought college was out of reach and didn’t have that adult at home who could tell them what to expect.
Being first is a heavy crown. Berea helped lessen the weight and heighten the sparkle of that crown. I felt supported at every turn, reassured in every challenge. As a first-gen student, I questioned myself a lot. But my professors, supervisor, coach and understanding peers helped me thrive despite my insecurities.
Walking across that stage in May 2003 was one of the proudest days of my life.
And I’ll let you all in on a (not-so-secret) secret—I’m doing it again. Last fall, I restarted a master’s program, picking up where I left off in 2005. I am the very first in my family to pursue an advanced degree. And all these years later, I still feel challenged and uncertain, but I’ve been here before, and I know I can do it again.
Join me in this issue as we celebrate the stories of alumni, students, faculty and staff sharing the tears and triumphs of their first-generation journeys—their firsts and futures.
Abbie Darst
Editor
Interim Associate Vice President for Marketing and Communications
