Parent’s weekend is always an odd time. And it's not just because hundreds of grown adults flock to fraternity house lawns (seriously, why is that a thing?). It's never been an event that I keep on my radar.
I know my parents well enough to know that tailgates and football games are not worth a two-and-a-half hour drive, and my lack of involvement in Greek life means there is little to do with parents in town, besides waiting a ridiculous amount of time for lunch at Top of the Hill.
Parent’s weekend does, however, remind me of how I differ from many of my peers. I’m one of nearly 4,000 first-generation college students at UNC.
The conversations around first generation students, including those I’ve facilitated, have largely focused on the trials and tribulations of this experience: applying for FAFSA, scheduling classes, not knowing what to expect once I arrived on campus, etc.
And while this is often the reality, I do not often get a chance to discuss the immense pride I have in my parents, having guided my success, both academically and personally, over the years.
So this is an open letter – a thank you – to the duo that held my hand through it all. The homesickness, the breakups, the failed ECON 101 finals. Warts and all.
Thank you for knowing how hard college can be without actually knowing every detail of the sometimes-hellish experience that is higher education. Thank you for sending me cupcakes on my birthday and cat pictures when I need them most.
The love doesn’t stop when I visit home. Thank you for the home cooked meals and putting up with my laziness on the few occasions I can pull myself away from school.
Thank you for being patient. Amidst the chaos that is my life, you always afford me patience, deep care and open ears.
