I never had to think about which college I would go to. Like many aspects of my life, my undocumented status predetermined my education. My only choice was to attend the local campus, as going anywhere else meant the crossing of border checkpoints.
Being honest, I was less bothered about being told which school I had to go to and more resentful about that school being a state university. I was actually pretty ignorant about the types and tiers of school (in part because in the absence of choice this information was extraneous), but in my senior year of high school I enviously watched my peers apply to all kinds of nice schools. The fact that few of them chose to go to state universities made me assume that this choice was subpar.
That said, my frustration was quickly tempered not just by how easy the application process was for my state university, but how easily it had been to get my tuition completely funded by the school. The bar to receive a full tuition scholarship and extra spending money was relatively low as it related to GPA and college admission exams. The irony is that I was incredibly fortunate, as an undocumented immigrant, to reside in a state that allowed me to receive in-state tuition and state financial aid. Not to mention that I had been blessed with a university in the city that I lived, which meant I did not have to risk my well-being or be separated from my family to attend college.
Relatively early into my college career I forgot about the “state university” debacle, as my sights shifted to how I could get into medical school. As it turned out, my true limits were my own ability and my undocumented status.
Now, I’m not going to say that the school that you go to or the opportunities available to you don’t matter, proof of this is how my immigration status screwed me over. What I am trying to say is that your brand or the life you were born into does not define your potential. At times we may not even see clearly the advantages hidden in our limitations, in part to the reality we create from our inferiority complexes. This is something that I did back then, largely due to immaturity and ignorance.
I do not feel that my current position in life has been primarily limited by pedigree of my opportunities. There are thresholds in life that if not overcome, make choices binary. But if you overcome the threshold your success lies within a range. For example, not attending college makes attending medical school impossible, but as long as you go to college you potentially have a shot at any medical program. As such, my failure so far to get into certain programs, positions, or scholarships has been decidedly determined by my own ability.
Granted, others may cite the hyper-competitiveness of the world, especially in the medical field, to justify trying to gain every possible advantage. At times even deeming a disadvantage as the reason for failure. Maybe a well-resourced kindergarten would have given me a head start. Maybe a high ranking high school would have made me a stronger college candidate. Maybe an Ivy league education would have made me more competitive for the best medical positions in the world.
But on the other hand, none of those things would have made up for other hypothetical shortcomings in my life. I would not be here if my parents had been indifferent and negligent. I wouldn’t be here if I had suffered massive abuse and spiraled into destructive drug use. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t discovered my self-worth to overcome years of derogation. The life potentials swing both ways and you can’t just look at what is convenient.
In that sense I am not arguing that everyone should go to a state school or that graduating with debt is bad. What I am saying is that just because you weren’t given a winning hand doesn’t mean you can’t achieve your dreams. And even so, at times the value of the hand you were given doesn’t become apparent until you’ve played it.
Undocumented Physician Scientist in Training 