December 20, 2023
“Say hello when you enter and goodbye when you leave,” my grandmother often told me before leaving home. She had been my first teacher.
”Yes Grandma, I know,” I would always sigh.
When I was seven years old I knew the world was bigger than what I’d seen. My grandmother, Anthia Pough, who raised me, was a testament to that fact. She knew so much and had even more advice to give about life.
Our relationship has always been lovingly transactional. This wasn’t her first rodeo, as she had already raised three children, but in a different century. She would teach me lessons as simple as how to set a table or give firm handshakes, and I taught her how to pay bills online and order groceries.
Although she never went to college, she was still able to establish a career for herself working for the state. My grandma’s one ask of me was to graduate high school, and in 2020, amid a pandemic, I fulfilled her wish.
I was raised by her in Atlanta, Georgia, and she was born and raised in Germantown. I committed to Temple due to her Philadelphia ties, and after I started college, her advice kept rolling in. She would tell me to focus on graduating (again), build connections for the future and watch out for my surroundings in the city.
During this time, another layer to our relationship formed and I began teaching her more often. I was the one explaining life, not looking for advice, but to give a peek into a world my family hadn’t seen before: college. Our conversations shifted.
“Where will you work with a journalism degree?” she asked without fear, willing to learn about this new life I was living.
I would joke to her that I would work wherever I could get hired. I knew how to gauge a good career. She had already told me what she knew about negotiating a good salary and managing work environments.
We also juggled living 800 miles away from each other: her in Atlanta and me in Philadelphia. During breaks, I would explain the stories I was working on in class and teach her how to text. She would teach me about budgeting or how to find good deals on flights.
We continued this for three and a half years, until we both became experts in two aspects of life: college and adulting.
Preparing to graduate is almost as nerve-wracking as it was moving away from home. I’d designed my graduation announcements and texted them to my grandma for approval before sending them off to CVS to be printed. I thought, “Now where do I buy stamps?” and knew who to ask.
I could have just emailed the announcements and gotten it over with, but I was raised by my grandmother and her equally old school friends and family, so I knew they would want something tangible.
On Dec. 20, 2023, I’ll be the first person in my household to graduate college, and I’ll do it a semester early. My grandma thinks she’ll be graduating too.
“I’ll have to put on your cap or the gown,” she told me on the phone. “I’ll have to wear something for a picture when the day comes.”
I expect it to be the best day of my life. I imagine the temperature in Temple Performing Arts Center is cozy, and I walk across the stage after my name is pronounced correctly. I don’t slip in my heels, and I shake hands with Dean Boardman.
After the ceremony, I’ll walk my grandma around campus for the first time. Maybe she’ll get to wear my gown during the walk, and I’ll share my favorite memories at Temple with her.
The best part of that walk, however, is going to be where I point to a little building on Liacouras Walk, where I’ll work full-time in recruitment for Klein College of Media and Communication.
As a first-generation student, I understand the barriers I will face after graduating. Students with a similar background receive less access to opportunities, larger student loan debt and less earnings, Forbes reported. The largest barrier of them all is getting a full-time job, something I’ve already accomplished.
I have so many expectations for the day. I want it to go perfectly. No rain or snow. The sun will shine, and my life will officially enter the world unknown.
For that, my grandmother is all the more important to me. Her lessons, scoldings and infinite knowledge about the world continue to guide me in my final semester.
On Dec. 20, I’ll look back on the wise words of my grandmother for another chapter of my life. I can do this because there’s knowledge and impact in first-generation homes that can guide students through uncharted paths. I am thankful for my grandmother, my lifelong teacher, as I prepare for post-graduate living.
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