Confessions of a teenage mother
My tell-all very atypical college journey
As a preface, I hope that this depictive journey helps other atypical college students — the nontraditional, the returners, the first gens, and the caregivers. You’re just as smart, valuable, and worth it. Even if your journey is a little curvy. My journey was the most rewarding experience in itself. I wouldn’t trade this path for any other.
I recently graduated from graduate school. By recently I mean two years ago! This is a reality my teenage self would have never imagined. From a rebel kid, turned teen mom, turned college grad, now, a new member of the 13% of Americans with a professional degree I have learned that the celebration is not due until I reflect on the moments, people, lessons, and challenges that I have lasted the last seven years. As an eighteen-year-old with a newborn and no college savings, my “college savings” was owed to Evan Byhe. The former governor of Indiana enacted the 21st Century Scholarship program — a comprehensive approach to get poor kids to college and strengthen the Hoosier workforce. This program gave a poor kid from the country a chance at education. With a newborn in tow, I enrolled at Ivy Tech Community College with aspirations of every young, small-town girl — Nursing. This career field was plentiful, less risky, and guaranteed to support my small family. Unfortunately, I do not have the stomach, cue my very first major change — I met with the first advisor that saw me further than an “at-risk” case. Michael and the staff at Ivy Tech Community College opened my opportunities past the stereotypical career paths most young moms and troubled youth endure. I entered the world of education with a more eager, curious, and adventurous mindset. College would be boring without exploration. Without the try-it-on and feel-it-out opportunities, college students would be more prone to follow the money. I landed a job as a Teaching Aid with the college helping students with Mathematics because that stuff came easy for me. It was calculated, predictable, and repeatable. Stable. Something that I was not familiar with in my childhood.
On a whim of adrenaline, constant support, and belief — I began to investigate transfers to a four-year college. There were not many options in my hometown. Other than religious educational institutions. And I don’t think that my single-teen-motherhood would please many of those admission counselors. So, I searched for online education that would appease my desire for a four-year degree. A slight misstep in my path led me to Richmond, Indiana. I thought that I would be attending their online Mathematics education program from the comfort of my small-town and public subsidy apartment. But an impromptu trip to Indianapolis to visit an old mentor, Michael, led me differently. It happens — you take a whim adventure, and you fall in love, right? That’s how all the rom-com movies go… unexpected love turned life-changing moment. But it wasn’t a person that I fell in love with. It was diversity. The moment I stepped onto Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis’ campus was the moment I realized the benefit of being surrounded by diversity. I remember turning to Michael and asking, “where is the admissions office?”
On my return to my home, I applied to IUPUI’s mathematics program (still thinking that education was my path — for those keeping track this was bout the third or fourth major change) and was accepted! What? Does this mean I, a single-teen-mom barely in her 20s with a whole support system of her mom was going to be moving to the capital of Indiana to complete her bachelor’s degree? Yep.
My mother, bless her soul, didn’t hesitate to take this journey with me. I do not know what I would have done without her. Mom — Bless you and your giving heart. But on her own journey herself, she found an apartment that fit her needs perfectly, and, moved to Indianapolis before I could even sign my own lease on another public subsidy apartment. How can I afford to live in Indianapolis making less than $10,000 a year and supporting a child? Turns out if you have a housing voucher in another county of the state, it is easy to transfer into another county as those dollars follow you… Enough of the poor public housing system of Indiana and my personal finances. I was on my way to the “big” city! I know — it’s not that big. But when you are from rural Indiana, it is big.
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Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis doesn’t owe me anything. I had a great time that I treasure, especially within the 21t Century Scholars student support office. If you are a 21st-century alum of IUPUI, you probably know Ms. Phyllis. A phenomenal Black woman that saw potential and greatness in every student that came to the basement of Taylor Hall. She welcomed me and my motherhood into the college. And I found a support network and confidence that would propel me through the challenges of my first-gen collegiate career.
I was never the parent-student that would proudly proclaim, “My name is so-and-so, and I am a mom.” On the awkward but interesting first-day-of-college-seminar introductions. Partially because that wasn’t my go-to interesting fact — playing professional roller derby was — but because that wasn’t my shining moment. Being a student parent wasn’t my reason for getting my education, it wasn’t what I wanted people to remember about me, and it wasn’t an invitation to ask a million questions about my child or tilt your head in admiration-wrapped pity because “Wow, you’re so strong…going to college is hard enough…you’re doing it while taking care of a child!” Which were only comments directed to young parents and never to the stereotypical-aged mom who was continuing her education.
Nevertheless, I persisted… through class and class and class my first semester of hard-knocks college. Until my second semester when I realized that mathematics education wasn’t for me. I was failing Calculus III and I had four more-tiered mathematics after that. I switched my major, again. And I was happy, too. I settled on Psychology (maybe the fifth major change). I would argue that psych was the most beneficial part of my educational journey. I learned so much about human emotional and mental functions. Things I wasn’t afforded growing up. There were many missing pieces to my own existence that were filled with phycology theories and self-reflection and “inner work”. Not to mention, during this time I lived alone with my toddler, so I had a lot of time for self-reflection and inner work. I learned skills and tools that I use today in my professional career.
In the last semester of my bachelor’s degree, I was completing work-study. A highly beneficial program for low-income students that need extra money within an environment that supported academic goals primarily. My boss at the time, an ambitious young black woman with a professional degree, inspired me to take my steps into professional graduate programs. I remember completing all my application materials and setting my time to take the GRE. Graduate Readiness Exam — another proctored exam that proves isn’t much of a tale of someone’s academic ability — was required for my program of choice. I studied all winter. I was a nervous wreck on my exam day. But I left in an unfortunate state. I fell four points below the required score.
Discouraged, I didn’t want to inform my boss of my failure. But being invested in me, she asked me at my next scheduled shift. What was I going to tell her? That I had failed? That I wasn’t going to get into my program? Nope. Not of that at all. Quite frankly, she was disappointed that I wasn’t advocating for myself. “Email them… right now. Ask them what you can do” Excuse me? The guidelines are clear… I didn’t make the cut. But who was I to deny this slim opportunity to get into my program? I figured I owe it to my boss who had already sent an introduction email to the admissions counselor.
Finishing my bachelor’s degree was one of my proudest moments. My younger self had never imagined or even witnessed people graduating college. As someone who attended their high school graduation ceremony pregnant, I didn’t have a typical understanding of what the commencement day entails. Nevertheless, I was focused on getting into graduate school. Which, to my surprise, I was accepted conditionally under probation! “It just means that your first semester grades will be very important.” The admissions counselor told me that it's very crucial that I get passing grades within my first classes. Fine by me! I was in! I didn’t care for the conditional acceptance, but *I* was officially a graduate student.
Graduate school was what everyone describes it as — especially when you’re in a terminal program where many of your peers have years of experience, are already parents, or just taking extra graduate courses as they complete research. It was great — in the kind of way that you are a scientist studying the behaviors of a social experiment. Power was apparent in every class just as much as loyalty and relationships. You can quickly earn a power position among your peers if you: (1) seniority in your program, (2) was an executive in an organization, (3) received great remarks from your professors on your completed work, or (4) was completing a double major. Usually, these things were mutually exclusive. This social dynamic could receive its own study in a sociology class. Most of the time, I enjoyed my classmates. But sometimes you would get the savior troupe — who believed that their existence and viewpoint of the world was the single, correct notion on how to complete this graduate program and any other notion would be radical. These people annoyed me and usually fit into the ‘received great remarks from the professor’ category. I fit into this category, too. But mostly because I did my work on time and to the expectations of the syllabus. Not because of my conformity to the professor’s school of thought.
I did what my admissions counselor told me to do. I focused on my first semester. While also completing a graduate assistant program and working part-time. Which in retrospect is an insane amount of work. But what could I do? I still had a child and to support! After my first year, I felt that full-time work could be achieved while finishing my degree. I had a year and a half left. Watching my debt rise through the last year and a half was painful. Before working full-time, I was bringing home $20,000 a year and receiving free education through my graduate assistance program. Now, working for less than $40,000 a year for the first time in my life still wasn’t supporting my educational aspiration. But high-point — I was on salary … and with benefits. If you were me at that moment, you would be crying. No one tells you the emotions you feel when you are breaking generational poverty. But the public sector is wildly underpaid and now I understand what was stolen from me. Financial freedom. Nevertheless, I accepted this as a blessing and knew my payout would come later in my professional career. Alright, enough of my financial struggles. I was on my way to graduating with a master’s degree. But that was just the beginning, a whole pandemic, election, and great resignation during my grad career would add for some interesting turns. Stay tuned for part two…
