A brick is a lot heavier than a pen. My dad’s words echoed through my brain every time I felt overwhelmed or lost in my academic journey. It was a path no one in my family had taken before. Overgrown and thick, the intense coursework, feelings of isolation, and the cost of attending were thorny branches that would snag and scratch at my legs with every step I took. Through experiences and mistakes made along the way, things got easier. I changed the way I studied, explored fields and research opportunities, and made genuine friends along the way. From stumbling to running, I gained a new sense of power. I was confident in my abilities to handle anything that came my way in my academic career. I kept the pace, all the way up to the stage at graduation. When I looked back at my parents sitting in the crowd, I saw the path that I had taken to get here– a path I had forged on my own. I also noticed the distance and how far away my parents seemed standing at the starting point. All of a sudden, the pride I had in myself peeled away to reveal a heavy sense of guilt. My parents did not have a chance to attend college. They both came from a blue-collar background of farmers and construction workers, but they wanted more for me. I wanted more for myself. I graduated at the top of my class in high school, attended a well-known university in New Jersey, and I’m currently working towards my Master’s degree in clinical psychology. With every diploma I received on stage, my parents appeared more and more distant. Partly due to the graduation ceremonies becoming larger, but also partly due to a disconnect that grew ever since my first day at university. Many of the challenges I experienced, they never did. Many of the sleepless nights at the library I had to push myself through, they never did. Many of the opportunities I got to connect with others and explore my passions, they never did. What at first began as animosity in thinking, “They don’t understand”, developed into guilt in realizing that they never got a chance to understand. At times, I wish I could turn around and go back to erase some of that distance. But for whom would that be in service of? It would be a dishonor to my parents to stop now, and it would be a dishonor to my own dreams of becoming a clinical psychologist. The only other alternative to close the distance would be to bring them with me: uphold and support them the same way they did throughout my life. The financial support of this scholarship would be a tremendous help in transforming both my academic dreams and my dreams of giving my parents a more comfortable life into reality.