My story may be a bit different than yours: I never imagined I would one day be a college student. Growing up, college students always seemed smarter, more equipped and more talented than I was. I thought I was just not good enough, rich enough or intelligent enough to attend a college, let alone a distinguished private university. Frankly, neither did my mother or father. My father is a journeyman tool and die maker. His job is hard and the hours are long. My mother wanted to give me the early life she never had, so she stayed home and took care of me from birth. Only my mother graduated high school; my father was forced into the factories at an early age to support his parents. From our home on Train Avenue in Cleveland, they imagined that one day they would be just smart enough financially, just strong enough emotionally and just hard-working enough to eventually move from the projects to the promised land of the middle-class suburbs. They believed in the American Dream, the bright star in the sky that, if you could reach high enough, you could grasp. My story is one of their victories. My story is also that of my struggle to find the same shining star in the sky, a star that became brightest when the night was darkest. Like my father before me, I found myself in a factory at 19 years old, working 60 hours a week. I had graduated high school and was left with no real sense of purpose. I had nothing to pursue, nothing to build or create. But on those nights, running a robot—the sweat, dirt and grease covering my face and my clothes, weld fumes filling my nostrils—it became clear: I could be more. I realized I wanted to inspire others and instill values into students of all creeds, colors and cultures. I realized I wanted to be something great, something transcendent. I wanted to leave a legacy. So, naturally, I decided I wanted to be an educator. I decided that if I were going to pursue this dream, I would only settle for the best. I wanted to go to Ashland University. Of course, there was no such thing as a college fund in my parents’ vocabulary, but they’d given me something even more valuable: a great work ethic and the determination to follow my dreams. This blueprint enabled me to stay focused and positive when a grade came back lower than I’d hoped for or when 43 hours would go by without sleep after twelve-hour days at work and sleepless nights to catch up homework. The pride I take in saying I attend Ashland University as a full-time student and Summa Cum Laude candidate while paying every dime myself by working full time as a manufacturing engineer is quite seriously indescribable. Ashland University has given me the opportunity to elevate my bloodline and family, to evolve it to the next level. Being a student here is my greatest achievement. I will graduate with honors in the next year—being the first in my family ever to do so— and I’m incredibly proud to be part of such a distinguished university. My story here at Ashland is one of gratitude to all the professors, staff and counselors who make this school such a special place.
