The Importance of Community

The Importance of Community: The Chronicles of a PhD Student

By Rebecca Cepeda

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.

I am so thankful that I found a community of people when I needed them the most.

Although, I had a community of folks back in Los Angeles who let me know they were readily available over the phone, FaceTime, and Zoom, it wasn’t the same because they weren’t physically there for me to run and cry to any time of any day. I still knew I had to find community with those around me in this new environment–which took some time for me. It was hard for me to open up, become vulnerable, and ask for help. I didn’t know what kind of help or support I needed or who I could even trust.

However, I am so thankful that I found a community of people when I needed them the most. Without this community in Ohio, I would not have finished the first year of my doctoral program. They reminded me of my abilities, validated my experiences, and helped me find ways to take care of my overall well-being. From the women of color in my program (#SunflowerClique), amazing faculty members (Dr. Marc Johnston-Guerrero and Dr. Stephen Quaye), my OSAS Research and Program Assessment coworkers, and my supportive therapist, I was able to find the strength to continue my journey into the academy. I submitted conference proposals and presented at national conferences, wrote a book chapter, drafted my first CV, and found ways to preserve my energy within this Predominantly White Institution (PWI).

Due to the unfortunate COVID-19 pandemic, I stayed home in Los Angeles during my Spring Break, where I finished the spring semester and completed summer coursework. I was glad to have the opportunity to be home and support my family during this pandemic, while trying to balance my academic and professional life. However, it was challenging to concentrate during virtual courses, attending class in a different time zone, and video recording myself on my front lawn because I had no other place to do work. Fortunately, my community of support continued to encourage me—even if it was having random phone sessions for 30 mins, planning virtual weekly happy hours, or having virtual study/writing sessions. After five months of being home with my family in Los Angeles, I am back in Columbus because the institution decided to open this semester.

As a second-year PhD student, I am once again away from my family and attending school and work virtually—especially as the country continues to face racial injustices, climate change, and a pandemic. I am still upset about the oppressive system we live in, the white supremacy that constitutes academia and our society, and the lack of acknowledgement, inclusion, or regard for marginalized folks. It’s frustrating to continue to see institutions remain complicit and complacent towards the harm caused to marginalized communities. However, thanks to my community of support, I am learning to give myself grace and find ways to motivate myself as I continue doctoral coursework and stand in solidarity with others. This past year has been one of the most challenging years of my life, however, I am appreciative of the community I have connected with and the ways in which we have learned to support one another. I don’t think I would have been able to continue this program without them. They keep me going. Forever grateful for you all.

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