Like most Penn students, Leena Ngov is looking forward to receiving her college diploma and bringing it home. But instead of going on a wall filled with parents' and grandparents' diplomas, it will be hanging by itself. You see, Ngov is a first-generation college student. Along with hundreds of other students like her at Penn, she is continuing her formal education beyond the level of her parents. While the exact number of first-generation students at Penn is unknown, it was estimated in 2001 that there were somewhere between 700 and 1,000 such students, comprising just about 5 percent of the total University population. For these families, having a son or daughter attend college is an experience unlike any other. Despite some programs on the University's end, the completely foreign situation still gives way to unforeseen obstacles. • To describe Ngov as a pent-up bundle of energy is an understatement. Sitting with her for an hour could refresh the most tired of souls -- her eyes flicker, and her smile grows larger as memories of high school quickly and quietly cascade forth. Despite growing up only about 30 minutes from campus, the Wharton freshman sometimes feels a thousand miles from home. As the youngest of three sisters, Ngov was always busy with her family, whether it was working at their Chinese restaurant or helping to keep the house in order. Even though her older sister Lisa now lives just around the corner in Stouffer College House, the change in family contact still proved a tough transition. After all, even long phone calls can't replace constant, day-to-day interaction. "I lived, worked and hung out with my family constantly at home and at work," she says. "While we didn't really have specific 'family time,' I was always around them." Ngov's parents grew up and met in Cambodia before moving to the United States. Neither parent was financially able to complete schooling through the university level, but her dad in particular still retained a passion for learning. Regardless of their own education, though, both parents instilled Ngov with a similar love of knowledge that she still carries with her. But school was only one of her priorities, and she often had to balance that with many other responsibilities -- for one, the family restaurant, Szechuan Mandarin. Through middle school and high school, and even over this past winter break, Ngov worked at the restaurant. She began mostly as a cashier, but now works in a typical managerial position, dealing with whatever problems arise. She recalls working at the restaurant with a smile, despite the fact that it often proved a detriment to her social life -- she frequently had to forgo time with friends to help out with the business. Still, she credits her hands-on experience at the restaurant with her current Whartonite status -- she seems to have inherited the family business gene. Though it was something she had always planned on doing, applying for college was a difficult process for Ngov. She had to find the right school within somewhat self-imposed distance limitations. "My parents never restricted where I could go [to college], not explicitly, at least," she says. "It was more of a moral obligation than anything." After her oldest sister was rejected from Penn, Ngov began looking seriously at Drexel or Temple where her cousins had attended. But once Penn admitted her next oldest sister, the choice was clear -- she applied early decision to Wharton and was accepted in December as a member of the Class of 2006. So just what does being a first generation student mean when one applies to school? Well, that depends on the situation. According to Emily Nolan, assistant to Admissions Dean Lee Stetson, it can show that a student has overcome odds, but it doesn't stand alone. "It is merely a piece of the application," Nolan says. "On its own, it doesn't mean much, but when taken in conjunction with, say, the student being the captain of their football team, it could make some difference." • Quiet and reserved, Ivan Chan could be Ngov's polar opposite. Yet as a second-year law student at Penn and a graduate of the University of Chicago, things have not always been easy for him, either.
Chan spent his first years in Boston's Chinatown district surrounded by many first-generation Chinese Americans like himself. As the son of Chinese immigrants who never completed middle school, Chan grew up speaking Chinese with his family and English with most everyone else. Like Ngov, he had many responsibilities inside the home, including mentoring his younger brother through difficulties both in and out of school. When Chan was in the fourth grade, his family moved to nearby Lexington in order to take advantage of the "stronger" school system. School in Lexington was indeed harder for him, but not necessarily for any academic reasons. His family did not have a lot of extra money, and Chan found himself ostracized from the mainstream kids in the Lexington school district. While the other students were playing soccer and baseball after school, Chan was at home, helping his parents with translation or working with his younger brother. As a first-generation Asian American, Chan not only had to gain acceptance from the majority, but he also had to gain the acceptance of the primarily wealthy and well-established Asian population. Many of his friends had a hard time understanding Chan's family obligations, as Friday night parties often yielded to responsibilities at home. But in high school, things got better. Chan looked for and found acceptance in the diversity that his high school offered. He founded an Asian interest group that extended to the surrounding communities and filled his days with planning and activities. He relished the greater spectrum of ideas that existed at his high school. And this desire for intellectual diversity is what pushed Chan to Chicago -- with its think tank of a university -- and now here to West Philadelphia. Chan saw higher education as the next logical step in a series, although nothing was definite until his senior year in high school. "I didn't have the wherewithal to pursue something that was less sure than college," he says. However, the knowledge that his parents had succeeded without a college degree weighed heavily on his mind. Maybe he could save the $18,000 a semester and still succeed. But after sorting through his options, he finally decided that the move to college in Chicago made the most sense. Chan credits counselors at school for helping him decide where to attend, but the matriculation highway certainly wasn't without its bumps. • Intellectual stimulation has always been something that College sophomore Jared Noordyk has sought. In his baseball hat and sweatshirt, he is the image of laid back as he quietly tells his story.
Having grown up in the small town of Totowa in northern New Jersey, Noordyk is not too far from home. The son of two native Totowans, Noordyk's only sibling is a younger sister now in her junior year of high school. When his mother and father completed high school, they made the conscious decision to begin a career and family rather than pursue higher education. His mother is now a business manager for a collection of doctor's offices in the town, and she has always expected the best from her only son. Noordyk's father passed away in 1994, leaving the three Noordyks in a seemingly large house all alone. As the only male in the house, Noordyk found himself in the unenviable position of balancing his many responsibilities with his father's absence. Having to play the patriarchal role made juggling a host of school activities and home life challenging at times. He spent a lot of time with his sister especially, trying to deftly walk the line between being supportive and being overbearing. Yet he still found time to work hard in school. He always harbored expectations of college, but remained mostly unaware of the options that lay in front of him. It wasn't until his junior year that he began to extend his college search at the behest of a few close teachers and his guidance counselor. For him, the thought of college was both exciting and liberating -- getting away, but not too far, from Totowa for a while was something to which he was looking forward. "I wanted to apply somewhere big," he said. "Penn was a great place for me." Though novel and exciting, the transition to college would not prove to be the easiest. After all, college has its share of ups and downs for all incoming freshmen. But according to College Assistant Director of Academic Advising Alice Kelley, there is one major difference between first-generation students and others -- parents of non-first-generation students can often relate to their children's problems better. First-generation students are "often just grateful to their families for helping put them through college," Kelly said. "For this reason, a lot of [first-generation] students protect their families from some of the difficulties they are having." But unbeknownst to many first-generation students, the University does have a support system in place to help with these very concerns -- the Pennsylvania College Achievement Program. PENNCAP offers guidance and services to students who qualify, many of whom are first-generation. The program plans some social functions and maintains a peer counseling program, which pairs upperclassman mentors with up to 10 underclassmen. Noordyk in particular had some difficulties with his family soon after he arrived at Penn. Already dealing with problems on the home front, he didn't want to further burden his family with his school-related issues. "My family always jokes about how someday I will be the one to buy them cars and keep them healthy," he says. "I work hard keeping that in mind." • So now that college is a certainty, it's the future that remains nebulous. For many students, whether first-generation or not, higher education doesn't end with college. Ngov is unsure of what she wants to do next but expects that it will be something involving business. In fact, she is in the process of applying to an internship-placing program that she hopes will guide her decisions about the future. Chan, on the other hand, has followed an interesting path from Chicago to Philadelphia, having worked for the academic text company Houghton-Mifflin in Boston and then in the antitrust division of the Department of Justice for a little over a year. Law is just another facet of his career. Noordyk plans to delve into the business world to gain some experience before choosing whether or not to continue on to even higher education. Regardless of where they end up, though, these students have not forgotten their origins. Despite being academically ahead of their parents, they still remember that life experience counts for a lot. Perhaps just as much as a single piece of paper. "Even though my parents never finished middle school, I have yet to surpass them in wisdom," Chan says. "In some ways, wisdom is more important than academic knowledge."
