THE
IMPORTANCE OF COMUNITY The Chronicles of a PhD Student Rebecca Cepeda Graduate, Higher Education and Student Affairs
Last Fall, I moved approximately 2,250 miles away from my family’s casita in Lynwood, CA, a predominantly Latinx community, in order to pursue a PhD in Higher Education and Student Affairs at The Ohio State University. Aside from my first year as an undergraduate student living in a UCLA dorm 22 miles away, this was the first time I had ever lived away from my parents and the first time I lived outside of Los Angeles. Throughout most of my educational career, I lived at home and worked multiple jobs to help support my family in various capacities. Because I decided to accept my admission to a doctoral program across the country, I knew I was going to begin a new journey personally, professionally, and academically without my family and support system physically present. So, I tried to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for the challenges I would face such as starting a doctoral program, experiencing racism as a woman of color, and finding a community of support. On the first day of school, I sat in one of my classes and almost cried because I did not understand what my professor or peers were talking about. All I could think to myself was, “What is neoliberalism? I did the readings, and I still didn’t understand them. Why am I even here? I don’t belong in this doctoral program.” The imposter syndrome was real. I shut down and didn’t contribute to the discussion for the duration of the class. After this class, I cried to my best friend over the phone about feeling like I didn’t belong. She validated me and reminded me that I was in this program to learn. That it was okay to not understand, and it was okay to ask questions. So, I began to challenge myself to ask questions in class if I didn’t understand a concept, reading, or assignment. In addition, I experienced racism on a daily basis, existing in the classroom, within my program, doing homework in my personal academic workspace, shopping at the grocery store, picking up coffee at the Dunkin Donuts across the street from campus, and even in the Lyft/Uber rides to my apartment. It became constantly exhausting being surrounded by so many white people. It became exhausting because I continued to question and challenge their views. I was drowning in a sea of whiteness, where I was trying to fight the harsh waves, yet I was losing my strength physically, mentally,and emotionally. Although, I had a community of folks back in Los Angeles who let me know they were readily available
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