It’s strange returning to a place you vowed you would never return to…yet that is what I was doing when I started as a College Adviser at my old high school, Ashe County High School last year. It is ironic even - the older me almost laughs at the attitude the young me used to have. 2018 me:freshly graduated, with different aspirations: attend law school, move away from the mountains, and never come back. Maybe that is why I was initially so bitter when I was ultimately forced to attend App State due to finances.
Growing up, I always felt that I was moving through my community as a stranger. Yes, in a technical sense, I am a local – I was even born in the local hospital and have always lived here. Yet, if you were to ask me about local heroes, town politics, or even county lore, I would not have an answer. Living in an immigrant household, my parents' priority was survival. I felt isolated as a kid and did my best to fit in where I could. But that is so hard to do growing up in a white Protestant community; one where I only saw my culture at home, the local Catholic church, and the Mexican grocery stores.
Due to the lack of diversity, it was easy to befriend the other Latino students, even if we attended different elementary schools. All the Latinos knew each other, despite age, grade, and last name, we knew each other. But even so, often I was the only one in class with my identity. It changed slightly in high school, sometimes there were two or three of us in a classroom, but still, I yearned for more.
Fast forward to now, and the students I’m advising are the siblings of my former classmates.
It is bittersweet sometimes to imagine how different my life and my classmates' lives would’ve been with a College Adviser—especially a bilingual adviser. Being in the position I am now, I get to do that: I engage with the same families and it’s as if I get to help a younger version of ourselves. The same questions and doubts they have mirror the ones I had, and I often find that the parents remind me of my own-- confused, but supportive of their students.
It is truly a full circle moment when I help Spanish-speaking families as well as an emotional moment.
I distinctly remember one financial aid night I facilitated, and a student was there with his mom. The mom pulled out something most children of immigrants will recognize: a worn yellow folder stuffed with foreign IDs, random receipts, tax documents, utility bills, and a small notebook. It immediately took me back to my parents; our version was safely tucked under my parents’ mattress. My throat closed up as I envisioned my own parents digging through their yellow folder, willing to help even if they didn’t exactly understand what I needed it for. I kept going as normal though and went on to explain what FAFSA was in Spanish to the parent.
Part of my job as an adviser is also lessening the load of labor some Latino students face: translation. It is normalized to expect students to translate, even when they themselves are still learning how the college process works, and this frustrates me. A goal I have with this position is to alleviate this duty for students—they deserve this and so do the families.
I continually reflect on how my path led me to where I am today; serving my hometown, and instead of being bitter, I am more grateful. Some lessons are only learned through time, and it is hard knowing this when I am advising students. I always wish the best for students, so it’s difficult seeing them in the same mindset I used to be in. Due to this, I approach advising through an empathetic lens because at the end of the day, we each have the power and right to direct our lives.
Written by Lorena Calvillo, adviser Ashe County High School & Ashe Early College
Lorena Calvillo Ashe County High School Adviser
Lorena Calvillo Ashe County High School Adviser