My Journey as a First-Gen Student with a Disability

Audrey Agbefe, Young Adult Leadership Council Member 

The transition to university is challenging for any student, but for those with disabilities, it adds an entirely new layer of complexity. Throughout my academic life, I faced various challenges—navigating coursework and deadlines while trying to understand my learning needs. On top of that, I struggled with fitting in with other students. So, the thought of essentially doing it all over again in a much bigger, faster-paced environment at university was a drastic turning point for my mental health. 

This new phase of my life as a college student triggered and exacerbated my existing struggles, including the overwhelming pressure to be a “good” student. This identity didn’t align with my pre-existing self-image. 

As a first-generation student with African roots, I also struggled to reconcile my disability identity. My parents had made countless sacrifices to give my sisters and me a better life, and from a young age, I was taught that success meant rising above challenges. I coped by pushing through my learning differences. Unfortunately, this led to me struggling in silence, unable to advocate for myself when things became difficult. I often believed my issues, overthinking and a lack of focus were simply due to laziness or not caring enough about success. This mindset led me into a deep depression, where I began withdrawing from school and, at times, even from myself. I ultimately had to withdraw from my first semester at university as a transfer student. 

New patterns of self-destruction emerged during that semester. The rise of the pandemic only compounded my fear and anxiety, and I felt hopeless about my education and my future. I was overwhelmed by the thought that there was no way out of this cycle. 

This was devastating to me because, before transferring from community college, my sophomore year had been a time of renewal. For the first time in my academic career, I was making real progress. But once I entered university, it felt like all that work had been undone, and I had regressed to the same struggles I’d faced in high school. The recurring themes of not being “good enough” and being unable to succeed as a student again took hold of my identity. 

But after I withdrew from the semester, I knew something needed to change if I was going to continue my education. I didn’t want to drop out of college—I’ve always loved learning. But I needed to prove to myself and my family that I could complete my degree. So, I did the one thing I dreaded: I asked for help. 

I began talking with my primary care doctor and explained the stressors of focus and attention, and how it’s affected my life and my mental health lately. From there, I was referred for testing, and I received my diagnosis. The relief I felt when I finally understood what was happening was immense. I had struggled for so long without knowing why, and now I finally had a name for my challenges. 

With those diagnoses in hand, I started to embrace my disability identity. I looked into disability organizations and advocacy groups, and for the first time, I found a sense of belonging. For so long, I had felt like an outsider, trying to conform to standards and expectations that weren’t designed for me. Now, I finally felt like I was part of something, and that understanding of my role in this world was part of the process.