The Quiet, Complicated Weight of Being a First-Generation Post-Secondary Student

For many first-generation students, pursuing post-secondary education is more than a personal achievement; it is the fulfillment of a promise made silently across generations. It is a journey shaped by family sacrifice and hopes that are often unspoken but deeply felt. I speak from experience when I say that beneath the pride and celebration lies a complex, often taboo, emotional landscape.

There is a tension many first-gen students live with daily: the pressure to succeed without cracking under the weight of expectations, the guilt of wanting to pursue their own dreams while feeling tied to family obligations, and the difficult comparisons to peers whose parents have navigated post-secondary education before. These feelings are rarely discussed openly, creating a silent burden that can be isolating and overwhelming.

Photo courtesy: Pexels (photo by Kaboompics.com)

The Pressure to Succeed and the Weight of Expectations

When I first walked into my university classes, I didn’t just carry textbooks and notebooks, I carried my family’s dreams. I felt the weight of every sacrifice made by those who came before me, and the silent hope that my success would honour them. Research supports this experience. A study published in the Journal of College Student Development found that first-gen students often feel intense pressure to succeed academically because they see their success as a reflection of their family’s sacrifices.

This pressure can be a powerful motivator, but it can also be overwhelming. I remember times when an exam felt less like a test of what I knew and more like a measure of how much my family had sacrificed for me to be there. That responsibility comes with no manual, no clear guidance on how to succeed without losing yourself in the process.

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The Taboo of Guilt and Wanting More

Alongside this pressure, there’s a quieter, often taboo feeling: guilt. Guilt about wanting to pursue dreams that don’t always fit neatly with family expectations or traditional roles. Psychologists studying family achievement guilt describe how many first-generation students feel torn between honouring their family and following their own path.

One participant in the study put it perfectly: “I wanted to succeed, but I didn’t want to leave my family behind. Sometimes it felt like if I did well, I was betraying them.” That tension, between gratitude and self-interest, is rarely spoken about. It creates a silent struggle where isolation and impostor syndrome thrive. I’ve wrestled with this feeling myself, the simultaneous pride in achieving something new and the heavy fear that, somehow, I was leaving my family behind.

Comparing Paths: The Invisible Divide

The challenge deepens when you start noticing the “invisible divide,” the quiet comparisons with peers whose parents have already navigated post-secondary life. Many first-gen students, including myself, don’t have the same “cultural capital” or the insider knowledge about how to access resources, navigate academic expectations or network effectively. Research highlights that this gap affects confidence and belonging.

I often felt like I was trying to decode a foreign language while others seemed fluent. That feeling of being “behind” can be isolating and makes it harder to feel fully part of the campus community.

Mentorship and Community: Pathways to Resilience

Despite these challenges, first-gen students show incredible resilience. From my own journey, I know that finding spaces to openly discuss guilt, pressure and identity can be transformative. Studies show that culturally responsive mentoring, peer networks, and programs that honour first-gen identities significantly improve persistence and well-being.

When I connected with peers and mentors who truly understood the unique tensions I carried, I felt less alone. It gave me the courage to reclaim my story and define success on my own terms.

Bridging Two Worlds: Insights from Patty Klug

Patty Klug, inaugural director of the Chaiken Center for Student Success at Penn State, has spent four years walking alongside first-generation college students as they navigate the invisible terrain between pride and pressure, hope and self-doubt. She describes a recurring tension many students face, feeling pulled in two directions at once: between the world of home and the world of higher education.

“For a lot of first-gen students, college can feel like living a double life,” Klug explains. “Their families may not fully understand the environment they’re in or the demands they’re facing. The more these students grow professionally, the more it can feel like they’re drifting away from home, even when that’s not what they want.” As a result, many students feel they can’t talk about certain aspects of their lives with family, not out of secrecy, but because there’s simply no shared context.

Klug emphasizes that this dissonance isn’t just cultural, it’s emotional. “There’s pride, of course,” she says, “but there is also a bit of self-doubt, especially in the first year.” Students may feel like imposters without knowing the term for it, and only once they’re part of a community of peers or mentors does that language and validation begin to emerge. “It gets better,” she reassures. “By the time they’re in their third or fourth year, many of them are filled with more pride than doubt. And they want to give that pride back, they want to mentor the next wave of first-gen students coming in behind them.”

She speaks passionately about Penn State’s efforts to make first-gen identity a source of visibility and strength rather than a hidden status. “We’re working on building community and social capital, through mentorship, leadership positions, and peer networks,” Klug says. “We want students to see themselves in faculty, staff and alumni. To know that this identity doesn’t hold them back, it prepares them in unique ways.”

Patty Klug recalls how one first-gen student started as a peer mentor and eventually went on to lead a research expo, earn a service award and graduate with a resume full of leadership experience. “I’ve seen students take every piece of support offered and truly run with it,” Klug says. “And that’s something we often see with first-gen students, it’s not always about hustling harder, it’s about working smarter. Asking yourself: What’s the best use of my energy? Who can I connect with that might open the next door?”

For Klug, one of the greatest institutional challenges is simply finding first-gen students early on. “Not everyone self-identifies, or even understands what being first-gen means,” she says. “That’s why visibility is so important. As we develop our first-gen offerings, we’re focused on creating more opportunities for staff, faculty, and alumni to connect with and learn about the needs of our first-gen students.”

“We’re also exploring ways to engage with students earlier in their journey, through access to peer coaches, customized orientation materials and videos that speak directly to the first-gen experience,” Klug explains. “Our goal is to help students see their first-gen identity as a strength. Being first-gen means you’re resilient, capable and part of something powerful. and we want them to feel that from the very beginning.”

Her message to students? “You’ve changed the trajectory of your family’s life just by being here. That deserves to be seen and celebrated.”

Caption: Penn State first-generation student merchandise, including a sticker sheet, individual stickers and a button.

More Than Survival: Redefining Success

The journey of a first-gen student is complicated, filled with pride, sacrifice, tension and hope. But it is also powerful. By breaking the silence around taboo feelings like family achievement guilt and the burden of expectations, we can create more inclusive educational environments. Spaces where students don’t have to choose between honouring their heritage and pursuing personal growth.

To first-gen students navigating this path: wanting success on your own terms does not diminish your love or respect for your family. You can carry your expectations without being crushed by them.

The question isn’t, “Why carry this weight?” but “How will you carry it, and how will you define success for yourself?”

Your story, with all its complexities and contradictions, is a vital part of reshaping what it means to belong in higher education. And it’s a story worth telling.