Sometimes I feel like a sheep in wolf’s clothing. A discerning and systematic higher education leader in front of others, confident in my questions and proposals, and always a voice for the forgotten and underserved. Yet, at the same time, I’m internalizing doubts of my abilities, the anxieties of being the face of one or more of my intersecting identities, and the (illogical) fear of being found out as an imposter.
Realistically I know that I have worked my way up through the ranks, constantly learning and honing my craft, while building a small but mighty network of education practitioners whose missions and values align with mine. I have diversified my skills and used the resources and individuals around me to grow my knowledge, and thus my opportunities within higher education.
But it feels like I worked so much harder to achieve what I have and deserve—an exhausting thought when recognizing I want to continue to move forward in a field and system that was not originally structured for me.
Many institutions of higher education have added career planning as a focus in their recruiting and retention strategies for students. Some have even offered career development opportunities for their faculty and staff outside the traditional conferencing and networking events. I have had the privilege to take advantage of such opportunities as both an undergraduate and professional. Yet like many other first-generation individuals now navigating workspaces, as I balance various work responsibilities I must also must overcome the cultural, financial, and social capital gaps that trainings just don’t cover.
Being first-gen for many means figuring out how to negotiate the ins and outs of success and progress in the workplace. Especially in those early years as a professional, there is often little to no support available to help navigate salary realities (especially if you’re relocating states away), new jargon, community-building, and personal social and emotional wellness. We as first-gen higher education practitioners, especially those who work in admission, have to balance the awareness of succeeding within a system we just started to learn ourselves, while also building pathways for our students’ success.
And yet, year after year, we lean into resiliency and work our way through the challenges toward triumph. We find a way to make community where there isn’t one. We code-switch and learn to lean into our identities as points of strength. We still often have to fight through feelings of survivor’s guilt as we progress in our careers and work through times when we feel the imposter in institutions where we ironically search for student “fit.”
But there is a strength in being “first.” A lesson in overcoming and being resilient in spaces that seek to “other” you. A triumph in learning little by little to decode the hallowed halls of higher education. Individuals can lean into this, but institutions must do their part to create inclusive spaces where firsts can thrive, not just survive.
NACAC member Nicole Williams is the associate director of admission for transfer students and an adjunct faculty member in the higher education master's program at Merrimack College (MA).