Guilt and Gratitude: The studying abroad experience of a first-gen Latina

Mayra Bravo reflects on her experience as a first-gen student studying abroad. Photo by Mayra Bravo.

Studying abroad was something that I had once thought was laughably unattainable. I was very certain that it was exclusively for trust-fund kids or people who simply weren’t close to their families and wanted an escape. I didn’t fall into either of those categories, which is why I hadn’t fully processed the exciting journey before me until I was on the plane. Admittedly, as much as I desperately desired to go to Italy, I subconsciously did everything possible to sabotage my own trip. In fact, I obtained my passport the same morning of my 16-hour flight.

Countless fears flooded my mind in the months that led to “the big trip.” Firstly, as an extremely family-oriented Latina, I wasn’t sure if I could handle the emotional toll of being away from my loved ones for so long. Secondly, I didn’t know any of the other students that I was traveling with very well. This program was offered through communication studies—which is my minor—so the only students that I did know, I knew because we had taken a single class together. That hadn’t left much room for bonding, which fortunately, quickly changed during our month-long Italian adventure.

I was in absolute awe of the surreal beauty of Italy. I couldn’t walk more than two blocks without stopping for pictures. From the ornate ceilings to the cobblestone streets that left my feet sore and blistered – it was all magical. Luckily, my friends were just as captivated and eager to explore. 

One trip in particular often replays in my mind. 

After walking for four miles from our apartment to Piazzale Michelangelo, the final stretch of which was a steep uphill climb, I tried to casually catch my breath only to find myself completely overwhelmed by Florence’s sheer beauty. In that moment, I struggled against the tears welling up in my eyes, torn between intense gratitude and a lingering sense of guilt. How am I even here?

My immediate response was to FaceTime my grandparents. My grandfather laughed in disbelief of the beauty on the other side of his screen and pride that I could experience this magical world. “You should come, Papi. Come visit me!” I urged him, sincerely hoping that they’d just hop on a flight and join me.

Panoramic view of Florence from Piazzale Michelangelo. Photo by Mayra Bravo.

The trouble with college as a first-generation student is that you’re so aware of the sacrifices of your parents and grandparents because you’ve seen it firsthand. College isn’t simply an option for you – it’s the answer. This pressure is what has pushed me to excel academically; I am  aware that this opportunity is a privilege that my parents and grandparents were not as lucky to experience.

My grandfather immigrated from Mexico to the United States through the Bracero Program – a program that legally brought millions of Mexican citizens to the U.S. to work under harsh conditions and for meager wages. During this tumultuous time, my papi was not allowed to dine in the restaurants of his choosing after a long day of grueling labor, as racist signs dictated which establishments he could enter. 

As I strolled the cobblestone streets of Florence, wandering into any boutique or cafe that caught my eye, this thought would, often, come to mind. I was as equally grateful to live in a time of such freedom and acceptance as I was angry that my grandfather’s life had been filled with so many societal limitations. I quickly learned that my internal struggle was not unique, but rather, a challenge that many Latinx students face. For us, studying abroad is a delicate dance between celebrating our own successes while honoring the resilience and obstacles faced by those who have paved the way for us.

Upon reflecting on my life-changing voyage through Italy, I have come to the realization that although our families may not always be able to share in our experiences, we cannot allow this sense of guilt to weigh us down. Rather, we must use it as a catalyst to inspire us to keep moving forward. The very act of being able to travel to explore, as opposed to traveling due to necessity, is a testament to the sacrifices of our families. As first-generation students, these journeys honor and continue our familial legacies. May these transformative chapters of our lives serve as a source of healing and inspiration for generations to come.