"I don't know, but figure it out" are words ingrained in my mind from how often I hear them. Being a first-generation student is a significant part of my identity, especially with this transition to college. Furthering your education can seem like a fairytale when the people around you don't even bother to go. It's even worse when you have nothing in common with them. One of the most influential but isolating parts of my upbringing is being the child of Muslim immigrants. Religion is a substantial part of my life and is stressed heavily in my household. Restrictions of Islam would often get in the way of me doing different things and mingling with specific peers. There were moments where I would have to come to terms with what people thought of me and my faith, especially in my preteens. I often felt like I wasn't Muslim enough because I don't look like the stereotypical one, but I also felt like I couldn't relate to the other people within my school community. That's when I joined this fantastic program called "Upward Bound." Within this program, I met students in low-income communities with immensely different types of backgrounds and stories. It felt as if there was no way to be left out because we were all so different yet similar. One thing other students and I had in common were immigrant parents. We all understood that people don't take the time to understand our parents' struggles, so they stress education. In this club, we're expected to represent our best selves and be seen as role models in our community. As the oldest of three girls in my household, I have little experience in being a role model. Being an older sibling has taught me dedication and has given me the ambition to be the best version of myself. Spending time with my sister taught me that I love being around people, so I want to pursue a profession with people. I love getting to understand why people are the way they are and offering my input. My mom is the same way; she's my biggest inspiration. She came up with these fantastic ideas and inspired me to start drawing. I've been making small comic strips since the 7th grade, and they've been my escape when reality felt too stressful. My mother's been very supportive of this emotional outlet. I want to make her/myself proud of who I eventually become. When my younger sister was born, my parents sent me to Africa. I was around three years old and traveled with my aunt. I rarely see anyone outside of my immediate family of five because they're all in Senegal. While I was there, I got to know my mother's family and her language. When I returned home, I was forced to learn English again and forgot my mother's language. My father was so paranoid that I would be behind schoolwise, that he didn't even allow me to converse in our native tongue. I've lost a part of my culture that I could've passed down to my children or another way to relate to people with the same background. When I finally complete this transition to college, I hope to be in a position where I'm an asset and benefit from the community. I will no longer be a burden, another low-income citizen, or a clueless student trying to get by. I'm going to make my mark and prove that someone with hardships making it in the real world isn't just a famous movie plot. That’s what success means to me.

"I don't know, but figure it out" are words ingrained in my mind from how often I hear them. Being a first-generation student is a significant part of my identity, especially with this transition to college. Furthering your education can seem like a fairytale when the people around you don't even bother to go. It's even worse when you have nothing in common with them. One of the most influential but isolating parts of my upbringing is being the child of Muslim immigrants. Religion is a substantial part of my life and is stressed heavily in my household. Restrictions of Islam would often get in the way of me doing different things and mingling with specific peers. There were moments where I would have to come to terms with what people thought of me and my faith, especially in my preteens. I often felt like I wasn't Muslim enough because I don't look like the stereotypical one, but I also felt like I couldn't relate to the other people within my school community. That's when I joined this fantastic program called "Upward Bound." Within this program, I met students in low-income communities with immensely different types of backgrounds and stories. It felt as if there was no way to be left out because we were all so different yet similar. One thing other students and I had in common was immigrant parents. We all understood that people don't take the time to understand our parents' struggles, so they stress education. In this club, we're expected to represent our best selves and be seen as role models in our community. As the oldest of three girls in my household, I have little experience in being a role model. Being an older sibling has taught me dedication and has given me the ambition to be the best version of myself. Spending time with my sister taught me that I love being around people, so I want to pursue a profession with people. I love getting to understand why people are the way they are and offering my input. My mom is the same way; she's my biggest inspiration. She came up with these fantastic ideas and inspired me to start drawing. I've been making small comic strips since the 7th grade, and they've been my escape when reality felt too stressful. My mother's been very supportive of this emotional outlet. I want to make her/myself proud of who I eventually become. When my younger sister was born, my parents sent me to Africa. I was around three years old and traveled with my aunt. I rarely see anyone outside of my immediate family of five because they're all in Senegal. While I was there, I got to know my mother's family and her language. When I returned home, I was forced to learn English again and forgot my mother's language. My father was so paranoid that I would be behind schoolwise, that he didn't even allow me to converse in our native tongue. I've lost a part of my culture that I could've passed down to my children or another way to relate to people with the same background. When I finally complete this transition to college, I hope to be in a position where I'm an asset and benefit from the community. I will no longer be a burden, another low-income citizen, or a clueless student trying to get by. I'm going to make my mark and prove that someone with hardships making it in the real world isn't just a famous movie plot. That’s what success means to me.

"I don't know, but figure it out" are words ingrained in my mind from how often I hear them. Being a first-generation student is a significant part of my identity, especially with this transition to college. Furthering your education can seem like a fairytale when the people around you don't even bother to go. It's even worse when you have nothing in common with them. One of the most influential but isolating parts of my upbringing is being the child of Muslim immigrants. Religion is a substantial part of my life and is stressed heavily in my household. Restrictions of Islam would often get in the way of me doing different things and mingling with specific peers. There were moments where I would have to come to terms with what people thought of me and my faith, especially in my preteens. I often felt like I wasn't Muslim enough because I don't look like the stereotypical one, but I also felt like I couldn't relate to the other people within my school community. That's when I joined this fantastic program called "Upward Bound." Within this program, I met students in low-income communities with immensely different types of backgrounds and stories. It felt as if there was no way to be left out because we were all so different yet similar. One thing other students and I had in common were immigrant parents. We all understood that people don't take the time to understand our parents' struggles, so they stress education. In this club, we're expected to represent our best selves and be seen as role models in our community. As the oldest of three girls in my household, I have little experience in being a role model. Being an older sibling has taught me dedication and has given me the ambition to be the best version of myself. Spending time with my sister taught me that I love being around people, so I want to pursue a profession with people. I love getting to understand why people are the way they are and offering my input. My mom is the same way; she's my biggest inspiration. She came up with these fantastic ideas and inspired me to start drawing. I've been making small comic strips since the 7th grade, and they've been my escape when reality felt too stressful. My mother's been very supportive of this emotional outlet. I want to make her/myself proud of who I eventually become. When my younger sister was born, my parents sent me to Africa. I was around three years old and traveled with my aunt. I rarely see anyone outside of my immediate family of five because they're all in Senegal. While I was there, I got to know my mother's family and her language. When I returned home, I was forced to learn English again and forgot my mother's language. My father was so paranoid that I would be behind schoolwise, that he didn't even allow me to converse in our native tongue. I've lost a part of my culture that I could've passed down to my children or another way to relate to people with the same background. When I finally complete this transition to college, I hope to be in a position where I'm an asset and benefit from the community. I will no longer be a burden, another low-income citizen, or a clueless student trying to get by. I'm going to make my mark and prove that someone with hardships making it in the real world isn't just a famous movie plot. That’s what success means to me.

"I don't know, but figure it out" are words ingrained in my mind from how often I hear them. Being a first-generation student is a significant part of my identity, especially with this transition to college. Furthering your education can seem like a fairytale when the people around you don't even bother to go. It's even worse when you have nothing in common with them. One of the most influential but isolating parts of my upbringing is being the child of Muslim immigrants. Religion is a substantial part of my life and is stressed heavily in my household. Restrictions of Islam would often get in the way of me doing different things and mingling with specific peers. There were moments where I would have to come to terms with what people thought of me and my faith, especially in my preteens. I often felt like I wasn't Muslim enough because I don't look like the stereotypical one, but I also felt like I couldn't relate to the other people within my school community. That's when I joined this fantastic program called "Upward Bound." Within this program, I met students in low-income communities with immensely different types of backgrounds and stories. It felt as if there was no way to be left out because we were all so different yet similar. One thing other students and I had in common were immigrant parents. We all understood that people don't take the time to understand our parents' struggles, so they stress education. In this club, we're expected to represent our best selves and be seen as role models in our community. As the oldest of three girls in my household, I have little experience in being a role model. Being an older sibling has taught me dedication and has given me the ambition to be the best version of myself. Spending time with my sister taught me that I love being around people, so I want to pursue a profession with people. I love getting to understand why people are the way they are and offering my input. My mom is the same way; she's my biggest inspiration. She came up with these fantastic ideas and inspired me to start drawing. I've been making small comic strips since the 7th grade, and they've been my escape when reality felt too stressful. My mother's been very supportive of this emotional outlet. I want to make her/myself proud of who I eventually become. When my younger sister was born, my parents sent me to Africa. I was around three years old and traveled with my aunt. I rarely see anyone outside of my immediate family of five because they're all in Senegal. While I was there, I got to know my mother's family and her language. When I returned home, I was forced to learn English again and forgot my mother's language. My father was so paranoid that I would be behind schoolwise, that he didn't even allow me to converse in our native tongue. I've lost a part of my culture that I could've passed down to my children or another way to relate to people with the same background. When I finally complete this transition to college, I hope to be in a position where I'm an asset and benefit from the community. I will no longer be a burden, another low-income citizen, or a clueless student trying to get by. I'm going to make my mark and prove that someone with hardships making it in the real world isn't just a famous movie plot. That’s what success means to me.