The road less traveled: How I transferred from community college to Yale

One of my first memories at Yale was helping the freshmen move onto campus as an upperclassman. Being new and having never visited Yale, I knew probably as much or less than the people I was supposed to help, evidenced by my fruitless efforts to carry a mini-fridge up to the fifth floor of the wrong entryway.

How was I new to Yale as an upperclassman? Last year, I took a non-traditional journey to Yale by first beginning my undergraduate education 2,876 miles away from New Haven at Pasadena City College, a community college. As I am one of only 24 transfer students in my class, people are usually surprised to learn Yale even accepts transfers, let alone one from a community college.

When I graduated high school, I was at a lost for what my next steps would be. I knew I wanted to attend college, but I also understood that I was needed at home to work. I applied to local state schools, and when it finally came time to decide what road to take, I was lost. I would’ve had to take out loans to attend these schools and would still be away from home.

It was right before the start of school when I ultimately made the decision to rescind my Statement of Intent to Register from the four-year institution I had chosen and instead attend community college. Deep-down, I felt like I was being “left behind” compared to my classmates who chose to attend four-year universities. Now, I understand just how important community colleges are, and I wouldn’t be the same person if I hadn’t attended one.

There are few places where you can turn to your right to see a veteran who returned to school after years of service to her country and to your left to see a single parent who wakes up in the early morning to take his child to school, only to then go take classes himself and work. I understand now why the graduation rate is lower than at four-year universities. When the average student at a community college is 29, when nearly two-thirds of students are low-income, and when most students work or have dependents to take care of, focusing on school isn’t the only priority most students have. It shouldn’t be surprising that community college students take longer to graduate or sometimes don’t, but in this statistic lies the beauty of community colleges.

Community colleges don’t pride themselves on low-acceptance rates, but instead on their commitment to make education accessible to anyone with the determination to build a brighter future. In my classes, I met returning students, veterans, single parents, immigrants, ex-convicts, and other first-generation students who would have never been able to receive an education or a second chance without community colleges. Community college taught me to value each person’s unique story and showed me just how important an accessible education is. This environment where accessibility was valued more than selectivity ingrained in me a guiding philosophy that we do best when we work together instead of striving to succeed alone with no regard toward others. I learned not to judge anyone by their past or present conditions, but instead by the height of their ambition for the future.

I’ve had a wonderful transfer experience at Yale, meeting great friends and taking classes taught by brilliant professors. I couldn’t have asked for a better environment to thrive in, but I’m glad I started my higher education at a community college. My experience there made me truly value the opportunity I now have to attain a higher education that so many people, including my parents, never had. And it’s made me want to dedicate my life to making these opportunities more accessible.

 Sometimes in an environment like Yale, selectivity is valued more than it probably should, and it’s easy to get lost in visions of grandeur. When I have these thoughts, though, I think about my experiences at community college and the everyday people I met in class or while transporting vending machines with my father around Southern California for work. I think about the struggling business owner who’s taking welding and accounting classes to learn new skills or that new immigrant trying to learn English at the only institution nearby that’s affordable. And I think of my parents, my mother and maternal family who escaped Cambodia as refugees during the Khmer Rouge genocide and my father who immigrated from Argentina. I’m humbled by those I’ve met and understand that the value of a person isn’t in what title or degree they hold, but in their grit and character.

I may have embarked on a road less traveled to Yale, but I’m glad I did because I learned to appreciate the final destination to which the road led: moving a mini-fridge up the wrong entryway of Durfee Hall. I’m writing this piece because almost three years ago today, I chose to attend a community college instead of a four-year institution. As the school year starts now, I hope that someone somewhere who thinks that higher education isn’t an option for them reads this story and realizes that community college isn’t only a real option, but the right one for millions of students. It’s also the start of a road that’ll lead them to paths that they never imagined. These truly are “bright college years,” and I’m glad my years were lit on two campuses.