Learning a Little Bit Harder:

Introduction

Obtaining a college degree in the United States is connected to enhanced economic opportunities, social stability, longevity, and overall well-being (Ma et al., 2019; Niemeyer et al., 2019; McFarland et al., 2018). The completion of a postsecondary degree leads not only to improved individual outcomes, but it also creates a foundation for stronger communities through increased civic engagement and communal wealth (Case & Deaton, 2021; Fry, 2021; McFarland et al., 2018). Additionally, obtaining a college degree creates a foundation for future generations, since children of college graduates are more likely to pursue their own postsecondary education (Ma et al., 2019). Unfortunately, this path can be fraught with challenges, particularly for single-parent and first-generation students who often face significant barriers (Kruvelis et al., 2017; Stephens et al, 2014).

This qualitative study explores the lived experiences of nine first-generation, single- mother students, illuminating the unique challenges they encounter while pursuing their college degrees amid societal and institutional hurdles. This study aims to understand the participants’ experiences by utilizing critical and constructivist approaches. Insights gained from the participants’ experiences reveal the complexities of their journeys and emphasize the need for supportive environments and targeted resources within academic institutions. This study highlights the importance of working toward equity in higher education for first-generation and single-parent students by creating targeted approaches for colleges, which can empower students to break cycles of poverty and create brighter futures for themselves and their families.

Background

Completing a postsecondary degree in the United States is correlated with increased economic, physical, emotional, and social stability (Ma et al., 2019; Niemeyer et al., 2019; McFarland et al., 2018). Further, individuals who obtain a college degree are more likely to live longer, participate in civic events, and have children who later attend college (Case & Deaton, 2021; Fry, 2021; Ma et al., 2019; McFarland et al., 2018). Funds invested in a four-year degree pay an average return of 15.2% annually (Mortenson, 2012). Unfortunately, for first-generation, single-parent students, the path toward a degree is arduous.

One-third to one-half of all college students across the country are first-generation students, yet the majority (over 60%) of those students will not complete their degrees (Fitzgerald & Delaney, 2002; Stephens et al., 2014). A vast majority (89%) of students who are both low-income and first-generation drop out within six years, a rate four-times higher than students from upper-income backgrounds (Fitzgerald & Delaney, 2002). Multiple factors contribute to first-generation students’ low retention rates. In addition to being more likely to originate from low-income families, they work more hours, face increased discrimination due to race, and are less likely to have social support while navigating college (Jack, 2019; Sandoz et al., 2017). First-generation students may feel overwhelmed while attempting to decipher the cultural expectations interwoven into social exchanges in higher education settings, including in the classroom (Beegle, 2003; Engle, 2007; Jack, 2019; Sandoz et al., 2017; Tate et al., 2015; Wilson & Gibson, 2011).

Students who are single-parents and first-generation face a “double-jeopardy,” encountering exponential barriers. Only one-third of single-parent students will complete their college degree within six years (Kruvelis et al., 2017). The vast majority of single-parents are women, and nearly 40% of single-mother families in the United States are living in poverty—almost five times the rate of married-couple families. (Annie E Casey Foundation; 2014; Bauman, 2000; Chaudry et al., 2016). Single parents face increased obstacles to overcoming poverty as they grapple with competing responsibilities as student, primary caregiver, and breadwinner. Even when single parents are employed, they pay a disproportionate amount of their income towards childcare, while simultaneously suffering from a decrease in government economic assistance (Bauman, 2000; Annie E. Casey Foundation, 2014). Current policies contribute to the widening class gaps within education by prioritizing employment over education (Bloom, 2009). Some government assistance programs are structured to remove financial support for recipients who decide to attend college, making it more difficult to obtain a degree and move out of poverty (Beegle, 2007; Bloom, 2009).

This penalization for pursuing education is particularly troublesome, as higher education clearly benefits families. Women who earn a college degree earn roughly twice as much as those who do not, and for those who are parents, college degrees provide access to job environments with stability, benefits, and friendlier work environments for families (Bloom, 2009). The impact of single parents obtaining a college education is tremendous, considering the improved family stability and educational outcomes for their children (Annie E. Casey Foundation, 2014).

Single parents are a burgeoning demographic among college students (Gault et al., 2014; U.S. Census Bureau, 2014). Single parents often face financial strains while attending college, and roughly one-quarter fall under the federal poverty guidelines (Gault et al., 2014). Many single-parent students struggle to meet the requirements of their college courses while also caring for their children and working (Sallee, 2015; Wainwright & Marandet, 2010). Student parents more broadly have endorsed feelings that campus culture and policies are designed for the more traditional single student (Robertson & Weiner, 2013). Unsurprisingly, literature exploring the experiences of student parents reports childcare as a major concern (Carlson, 2015; Salazar, 2015; Wainwright & Marandet, 2010).

The unique challenges faced by single-parent and first-generation students warrant greater inquiry into the intersecting experiences of those who are both. Intersectionality is a framework for understanding how multiple identities influence the human experience (Hankivsky, 2014). The goal of this qualitative study is to examine the intersecting experiences of single-mother, first-generation students, with hopes that such information will lead to more effective programming, policy, mentorship, and instruction, as well as cultural shifts aimed toward equity in both access to and retention in higher education. Considerable work documents the experiences of first-generation students or single-parent students, but we were unable to locate any research examining the experience stemming from these intersecting identities. From our participants’ narratives, we hope to gain insight into the unique barriers and strengths that influence their college years.

Epistemological Framework

This research is positioned within critical and constructivist approaches. Critical theory emphasizes the importance of research that critiques the institutions and structures of society to produce social change and increase equity for marginalized and oppressed populations (Lincoln et al., 2011). At its heart, critical theory is “a moral construct designed to reduce human suffering in the world” (Steinberg & Kincheloe, 2010, p. 140). Critical theory applied to higher education can be viewed as an approach that examines the cultural, societal, political, and hierarchical structures that shape institutional cultures, policies, and practices. Through the lens of critical theory, power and the production of knowledge are often socially determined through class and status (DePay & Gitlin, 2016). By embracing a critical lens, we hope to challenge dominant norms and dismantle barriers that are contributing to inequitable access to education and support for students once they arrive.

From a constructivist standpoint, we sought to better understand the lived experiences of participants’ educational journeys. A constructivist approach in qualitative research explores how participants construct their own cognitive schema and understanding of reality (Shannon- Baker, 2023). Since reality is constructed by each individual’s own lived experiences and interpretations of those experiences, it results in multiple realities, and the process of qualitative research leads to a co-construction of knowledge between the participant and researcher (Shannon-Baker, 2023; Tashakkori et al., 2021). As researchers, we engaged in the construction of meaning while reflecting on participant narratives of their lived experiences as students and mothers. The aim of this research is to use the knowledge gained from qualitative interviews with first-generation, single-parent students to make higher education more inclusive for this population.

Materials and Methods

Sample and Data Collection

This study employed a qualitative descriptive approach to examine the experiences of first generation, single-parent students in navigating the socio-cultural aspects of higher education. Semi-structured interviews were conducted to draw out participants’ experiences. A comprehensive examination of the data took place to create codes and subsequently to identify themes developed from each participant interview (Bazeley, 2013).

Ethics approval was obtained through a university Institutional Review Board prior to data collection. Through her professional engagement in higher education, the principal investigator (N.L.) recruited participants within her community network utilizing purposive (seven participants) and snowball (two participants) sampling, resulting in nine participants in total. Inclusion criteria included identifying as both a first-generation student and as a single parent. Additionally, participants had to be currently enrolled in college or must have attended within the past two years. Participants could be enrolled in two-year, four-year, or graduate degree programs. N.L. conducted all interviews in English at a mutually agreed upon location or by phone. The interviews averaged an hour in length. They were recorded (with consent) and transcribed verbatim.

The following are examples of questions that were included in the interview protocol: Tell me about when and why you decided to go to college. What is it like to be a student while also being a parent? How do you think your experience as a student is different than other students whose parents went to college? What have your experiences been like with professors?

Analysis

The data were examined for semantic and latent themes using theoretical thematic analysis—describing what participants explicitly expressed in addition to the silences around their experiences (Braun et al., 2019). Analysis was implemented with intent to process and theorize the structural and cultural contexts that enable the participants’ accounts (Braun et al., 2019).

The interview recordings and transcripts were reviewed multiple times by N.L and E.H. During the initial analysis, each member completed open coding and compared transcripts, followed by an examination of codes and the creation of initial themes. After developing descriptive codes, we engaged in thematic development through comparing, processing, and refining. The following themes were established: 1) realizing college is an option, 2) caught between two worlds, 3) college wasn’t designed for us, 4) economic barriers, and 5) disparities in social capital.

Results

Participants

All nine participants identified as women, current or recent first-generation college students, and single parents who were 21 to 45 years old. Ruth, Jenny, Kathleen, Bridgette, and Janna identified as White; Lola, Tracy, and Monica identified as Native American; and Daeshawna identified as Black (each participant name is a pseudonym). All nine participants attended school in the U.S. Midwest or West. Six of the nine participants had successfully completed at least one degree, and three participants were enrolled in their initial degree program. The eligibility criteria for the study—being a current student or graduate—means the sample is representative of only a portion of all single-parent, first-generation college students, as these are individuals who have been successful or are succeeding in school. Participant characteristics, including type of college attended, program of study, and school status, can be seen in Table 1.

Eight participants reported living in poverty most of their childhood, with five participants indicating they could not remember having a family member who did not live in poverty. Experiencing abuse or neglect growing up was reported by five participants, and four indicated they had spent time in foster care. All reported financial instability, family instability, or both in childhood. This included the death of a parent, deteriorating mental health of a caregiver, a child welfare involvement, eviction, and homelessness. Seven participants became mothers at an early age.

(1)  Realizing College Is an Option

Participants identified college as an option through two distinct experiences—“it was sort of on my radar” or “finding out college isn’t just for fancy people.” Eight out of nine reported their parents never explicitly discussed college with them, and they did not feel it was an expectation for them to go. Even without parental guidance, four of the participants came to consider college as an option through conversations with high school friends, teachers, or school counselors. Other students reported that college was not encouraged by their family of origin or faculty at high schools they attended. These students endorsed a feeling of discovery when realizing that college was an option for them too.

The journey to college was different for each participant. Two participants went straight into college after high school (before having kids), but the rest of the participants reported a more circuitous journey. The two participants who initiated college prior to having children reported financial obstacles and a lack of understanding of how to navigate the college system, which led them to dropping out and returning after having children. Seven participants decided to start college after having their children. They viewed college as a necessity for a more lucrative career.

College Was Sort Of on My Radar

Four participants reported that college was on their radar due to encouragement they received from high school teachers, school counselors, or friends. Bridgette reported thinking about college in high school but indicated her parents never encouraged her to attend. She remembers wanting to pursue a career as an attorney. When she became pregnant with her first child, she recalls, “I remember Mike, Lilly’s dad, telling me that I can’t go to school because I’m a mom now.” It was not until she left Mike and after the birth of her second child that she realized college was not just an option, it was a financial necessity: “And after Brandon was … born, I remember … having that midlife mom crisis. Am I gonna be able to raise two kids on an income, you know, working as a bank teller?”

Daeshawna remembers hearing messages from staff at her high school about college but said there seemed to be an undercurrent in whom those messages were targeting. She stated, “I don’t even think it was an expectation from school either… they put it out there that you can go to college, but it wasn’t like you need to go to college.” She went on to say that despite ambiguous messages from school personnel, she decided, “I wanted to graduate from school and go straight to college but because I was underage at the time and didn’t have a child, I had to depend on my mom to sign my financial aid papers, and she didn’t want to sign them.” Daeshawna suggested that her mother’s refusal derailed her hopes.

College Is for Fancy People

For others, the path to college was more of a discovery process where they realized college was not only for an elite group, or, as Lola stated, “just for fancy people.” Four participants reported that they were given messages by their family or high school community that college was not for “people like them.” Lola explained, “To me going to college was like having a Ferrari (laughs); it’s unnecessary, like I’ll be fine without it, and only certain people can have that.” She went on to discuss the moment she realized that college was an option.

I was 16, maybe 15, and I knew college was a thing but I didn’t know I could go. I was seeing a dermatologist … I told her I thought it was really cool that she was a girl doctor and she was a mom too … I think she was even a single mom.… I was super fascinated by that, and she told me that I could be a doctor, and I was like, ha ha. But she said … ‘you could, why couldn’t you? You just go to college. I went to college; you could go to college’ … And in my mind at that time, I was like … she’s a doctor. She knows. So, if she thinks I can be a doctor, or a nurse, or go to college, then I can…. That’s when I realized it was a possibility for me, because of a lady who knew me for 15 minutes, believed in me more than anybody.

For these participants, overcoming the message that college was only for an elite group was the first step to pursuing higher education.

(2)  Caught Between Two Worlds

Participants identified experiencing a sense of being “caught between two worlds,” by no longer fitting into their family of origin while also feeling they did not belong in the middle-class college culture. Five participants indicated feelings of alienation from their families for making the decision to go to school. Tracy recounted her family’s response:

My aunt was angry; she actually said, ‘Well who is going to watch your kids? You can’t just have kids and not watch them.’ And I was thinking in my head, ‘I am the only woman in this family to have children and keep her kids!’ Like, I didn’t give my kids away; I kept my children. So, I decided not to depend on my family. I put it in my mind never depend on your family, depend on yourself and yourself only.

Lola indicated her family accused her of thinking she was better than them because she was doing something different. She reported them saying, “‘Your mom was a junkie, she went to prison, like you ain’t going to do this.’” She postulated that the messages she received from family members reflected their cycles of poverty and addictions:

My mom she didn’t make it past the 8th grade. And she told me that all the time, she’s fine and she didn’t even have to go to high school. My aunts, my uncles, that was just the way it was.… So, to have people who are like me, single-parents, my cousins, my aunts, telling me … when it gets really hard, instead of saying, ‘Keep going’, saying, ‘You need to work’, ‘Just forget about it’… I think a lot of it, their negativity comes from the way that they feel about themselves … when people say ‘misery loves company,’… it’s easy to accept the lifestyle that you’re in, even if it’s terrible, even if you are making wrong choices … if everyone is the same way.

Even participants whose families supported their decision to attend college described a sense of growing apart due to their divergent experiences and growth during college. At the same time, participants felt their first-generation status kept them from fully fitting into college. They noted struggling to create a support system within higher education and often feeling like an imposter.

Janna spent some time processing her experiences of feeling like an outsider and recounted a moment she had with a classmate whose parents had advanced degrees. In contrast, Janna explains, one of her parents had “passed away from brain cancer and my dad, you know, high school diploma, construction worker manual labor … when my classmate feels like an imposter in the field … how much more of an imposter do I feel like?” To illustrate, Janna said her grammar was a reflection of her childhood educational opportunities but had been a hindrance to her sense of belonging in college. It also set her back academically:

My k-12 school I went to, they had a Facebook post not too long ago that I had to screen shot and send to my classmates because I was like, ‘This is why I suck at grammar.’ Like, they totally messed up. It was a two-sentence post on Facebook, and I was like, ‘This is why I can’t speak.’

Her college education did improve her grammar and ability to communicate orally. This marked a separation from her community of origin, but she could never adapt her language enough to fully integrate into middle-class college culture. Many participants found themselves in this liminal space between worlds.

(3)  College Wasn’t Designed for Us

All participants described feeling overwhelmed due to being a student and the primary provider for their children. There was often a misalignment between duties as a student and duties as a mother. Throughout many of the narratives, participants endorsed feeling that college was not designed for people like them. Being a parent while a student created a sense of alienation. Eight out of nine participants acknowledged that lack of access to adequate childcare was a primary barrier to completing their education. Without onsite childcare, they were left to find offsite care which did not support the hours needed for student internships or class schedules.

All participants identified a desire to secure their children’s future as their primary motivation for completing their degrees. This created dissonance because they were working toward their degree for their children, but they felt this was often done at the expense of their children. They mourned losing precious time with their children as they were busy balancing school and work obligations. Tracy discussed feeling guilty for the sacrifices she had to make.

I struggled with a sitter. My car broke down, so I was walking to and from school, and I was bound and determined not to drop out … I had to leave my babies to work a night shift or a double waitressing … By golly, I am not going to drop out of school again … I took my kids to class with me … they didn’t make any noise and my professor allowed it, umm for a short time until I could get a sitter in place. I even hate to admit this, but I had to leave my kids at home a couple of times … So, struggling through undergrad, my memories are not sweet … they bring back a lot of emotion for me (starts crying). I had to leave my kids alone a lot.

Lola felt overwhelmed by the responsibilities of school, parenting, and working. She grieved the absence of a supportive family or community to help ease her burden. Lola acknowledged feelings of resentment towards some of the students in her class who appeared privileged with endless amounts of time to devote to school.

They have way less stress … lives don’t depend on them. So, it’s different, and they don’t have all of the emotional stuff you have as a mom and you know … you should work more because your kids are crying around because they are tired of macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. You know you can’t work more because you need that time to study, you need that time for school. They don’t have to deal with that … It’s a lot easier financially, and emotionally. Physically too. Sometimes my kids get sick and they are up all night … Then I have to get up at 5:30 (am), go to school, or go to work, get off work, come home, take care of her, and then find daycare and then go to class and I’ve had like three hours of sleep.

She went on to assert that colleges operate with the assumption that all its students are traditional, single students. She reported that she wished colleges and instructors were more aware of single-parent students, saying:

We’re tired. We’re exhausted. Not just some days, every single day. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. We don’t have time like other students We don’t have time to lay down and take a nap. We don’t have time to catch up. We don’t even have time to recover from a cold.

During Bridgette’s second year of nursing school, she had emergency surgery to remove her appendix. She reflected on feeling isolated and not receiving support.

I mean I had to put myself through things that people don’t have to, but I couldn’t stop, … I had my appendix out and I was sore, and I was hurting, but I couldn’t stop being a parent. I didn’t have anyone to take care of my kids while I was sick … I remember there’d be nights where I’d put my kids to sleep, and I’d stay up and study … we all had this one bedroom, and we slept on this queen-sized bed—me, Brandon, and Lilly. I put them to bed, and I’d sit on the floor and do homework for hours.

There was constant tension between her obligations as a student and her obligations as a parent. She went on to discuss other times she faced barriers to college and recounted a memory of when she needed to take a test but didn’t have childcare for her infant.

One time I had to take a test and I couldn’t; I didn’t have anyone to take Brandon … one of my friends, he was a tow truck driver at the time, and he’s like, ‘well, I’ll take Brandon on a tow.’ You know, he was in a huge tow truck, and I put Brandon’s car seat in his tow truck, (laughing) in a semi for me to go to school to take a test.

Seven of the participants discussed the struggle of meeting attendance requirements while caring for sick children. Jenny expressed frustration toward school and classroom policies created in response to traditional students’ class attendance without recognizing the additional burden this caused for single-parent students:

[Your kids] get sick and you’re the only one they have and you are gonna miss class or clinical.… You know it’s not like we’re intentionally skipping class.… They even changed the rules this semester saying if we miss clinical or certain class that we have to have a doctor’s note and it’s not always feasible … you can’t send your kid to school with a 101 temperature but you also don’t want to … drive all the way to urgent care and pay money for them to say ‘Yeah, oh they have a fever.’

When asked what colleges or professors could do differently to support them, a consistent response was increased communication. Participants reported when professors modeled proactive communication with students, they felt more secure advocating for their needs. They wanted their professors to know how deeply they were invested in their education, even if they needed to miss class to take care of their sick child. However, many struggled to initiate a line of communication. They were unsure of acceptable ways of reaching out, or whether professors would be understanding. Since their parents had not attended college, they did not have this cultural knowledge.

(4)  Economic Barriers 

Unsurprisingly, participants identified finances as an impediment with higher education. It was both a barrier to and driver of completing their degrees. We identified four facets of this theme: 1) finances as impetus for school, 2) financial challenges created by school, 3) more than tuition, and 4) the struggle for balance.

Weary of the “hustle” and wanting “more out of life,” participants went to extraordinary lengths to complete their educations, recognizing that, as Daeshawna put it, “if you want a better life you need to get lucky and land a good job or you have to have some type of college behind you.” The desire to improve their financial prospects was clearly driving the tough decisions many of them made, including sacrifices in work hours, lost income, and reduced family time.

While the future payoff was their motivation, school created incredible financial challenges. Participants experienced difficulties with not just the bills and day-to-day of school, but the ways systems were designed. As Bridgette recalls:

I remember going to school, like, that first semester, and once you sign all those documents for school loans, and I remember telling myself ‘Well I have to finish, cause there’s no way that I’m gonna want to pay back this $10,000 or whatever for school. How would I pay this back on a minimum wage job?’

This was only the beginning of participants’ relationships with student loans. Kathleen, as a first- generation student, felt that better guidance could have helped her avoid significant debt:

I feel that if my parents would have gone to school … I would have some type of support from them. More guidance as to what you do with this money, cause now I’m like $83,000 in debt that I have to start paying back, where it could have been a lot less and almost free if I would have applied for those grants.

When Tracy encountered severe health issues during her master’s degree, she pushed through a stroke trying to avoid academic probation due to uncertainty around finances:

I could barely walk, I could barely talk, and my face looked weird and my son is six months old and I’m still nursing him and I’m pushing myself and four months later I have a second stroke. So, I know I had to drop out of school. When I registered, I had taken out a loan, and I was put on academic probation. They let me know with the master’s program it was a little bit different. You have an F, and you’re on academic probation.

Finances were always part of the equation, dictating behaviors and shaping decisions. The fear of educational institutions and lending firms perpetuated the financial barriers that kept them from pursuing higher education initially.

Notably, students who are single parents may be eligible for increased borrowing amounts from federal student loan programs (Federal Student Aid, 2024). While having greater access to financial resources can be helpful to assist students in meeting their financial obligations during school, it can also increase a student’s emotional burden due to the pending student loan repayments and the potential risk of not completing their degree after taking out substantial amounts in student loans.

In their narratives, participants rarely referenced the costs of school itself—tuition and fees—but frequently discussed the difficulties of the peripheral costs of going to school, childcare among the top. The additional costs meant difficult decisions. Some sacrificed time with kids to work to make ends meet while others chose to take on large student debt to enable them to still spend time with children. Janna indicated that despite having full scholarships, she had to take out “pretty close to the maximum amount of loans to be able to afford to have a place to live and food on my table and go to school.” She explained, “A lot of us try to work more hours than are available in the day and we have to … If you’re working to provide for your family and you’re going to school to better your family’s future, but you’re not spending any time with your family … is it really going to have a better effect or not?” Ruth echoed this, reflecting on how important it was that her father was able to give her some financial support: “If I had the struggle of full-time school and full-time work and you know, homework, when would I be a mom?”

Other participants’ financial responsibilities extended beyond their children. Tracy, who attended a tribal college, shared her experience in one class, saying, “There were like 25 students [out of 30] who were the major breadwinners for the whole family. So, if somebody died, it took a toll on that student…. When my grandfather died, I ended up using my savings for the funeral.” Financial barriers came up in other unexpected ways. One participant, who did not have a car, described walking to class in brutal South Dakota winters and eventually dropping out. She would return for the spring and summer semesters, get caught up, then “winter time would come, you know, right? And so, it was the same thing over and over and over.” These repeated dropouts came to be their own barrier, since financial aid is cut off after multiple withdrawals.

Even when finances did not keep them from school, the economic disparity between participants and their classmates was pervasive. Lola recalls being unable to join her classmates to study, who would say, “‘Let’s have lunch and then study.’ I’m like, ‘No, I’ll just meet you to study.’ Or they want to go study at a place where you have to pay to be there. And I can’t do that, like, I’m poor.” Throughout their education, participants found their finances at the forefront of their experiences.

(5)  Disparities in Social Capital 

As first-generation, single-parent college students, participants were often savvy in turning to other forms of capital to compensate for lack of financial capital. In particular, some participants leveraged social capital, or found ways to build it where it did not previously exist. Social capital at an individual level is often conceptualized as human resources such as family, friendships, social connections, and social networks that can increase a person’s chance of success in settings such as school or work (Bhandari & Yasunobu, 2009; Villalonga-Olives & Kawachi, 2015). Social capital is often categorized as either bonding—helping to ‘get by’—or bridging—helping to ‘get ahead’ (Briggs, 1998; Putnam, 2001). Participants identified uses of both forms of social capital.

Bonding capital—built through personal, trusting relationships and leveraged essentially for survival—was most often used to meet personal needs, such as childcare or living expenses. Monica mentioned her aunt was willing to provide childcare, and Kathleen identified the material and emotional support she received from her longtime boyfriend as key in her ability to complete school. The recognition of relationships as a resource was strong.

Conversely, some participants felt they had little or no bonding capital to utilize during their education, and in fact, pursuing education had, in some ways, discredited the capital they had. They identified the lack of emotional support, unwillingness to sign financial aid paperwork, and inability to provide childcare as evidence that families did not represent bonding capital. Lola describes the lack of capital in her family of origin, saying she could not have trusted her mother or aunts to safely care for her children, or her cousin, who “showed up at my house one day completely wasted with all of her kids. To watch my kid.”

Participants cited bonding capital they developed during their school experiences as particularly important to their success. Most could identify a single individual—a professor or school staff member—who was a key provider of emotional support, even when they were unsure of themselves. Bridgette gave an example of a supportive professor, recalling, “I’m shocked about the confidence she had in me.” When faculty and mentors shared their own experiences with participants, the shared social identity built bonding capital. Participants frequently mentioned faculty who were also mothers, or mentors who had been first-generation students themselves.

Bridging capital is based on the notion of “weak ties,” such as indirect or network relationships, as opposed to personal relationships (Granovetter, 1973; Kavanaugh et al., 2005). Bridging capital was developed and leveraged toward success in completing school, both by the participants themselves and by the academic institutions and programs they were engaged with. One participant was part of a network through a scholarship she received, which helped her understand the complexities of the academic world. The program offered not only material support, such as paying for her GRE and supplying a copy editor, but also informational support through monthly sessions that focused on topics specific to first-generation students. Others mentioned school counselors, social workers, or “support systems” they built that helped them navigate challenges, understand procedures, and find resources to equip them for success.

Not all participants had the experience of developing bridging capital, though it was clearly not for lack of effort or personal deficit. Developing this capital in an environment of acquaintances and networks required a knowledge of the sociocultural norms of academia that students did not always possess. Daeshawna compared her transition to college “like learning a new language.” Janna highlighted the implicit understanding of higher education continuing- generation students seemed to have, noting, “resources that most academics think are common sense are not common sense to first-gens.” Other participants echoed this, as though they were on the same path as other students, but no one had given them the roadmap. In this context, understanding how to build the networks to ‘get ahead’ became all the more valuable yet required much more effort.

Bridgette depicted two types of learning—the content and the classroom culture—saying, “I feel like I had to learn a little bit harder because I had to learn other things. You know, like how to get prepared for classes or what to bring.” For a first-generation student, the practical challenges of attending college as a single parent were compounded by the lack of social capital. Finding connections with “insiders” who could fill knowledge or network gaps succored their college continuation.

Discussion

This study aimed to gain insight into the intersecting experiences of first-generation, single-parent college students as they navigated the challenges of and found paths to success in pursuing degrees. The impact of a college degree on future earnings, health, mental health, and overall well-being is relevant for all, but particularly powerful for those who are supporting families as single parents while seeking to break cycles of poverty by being the first in their families to attend college. Education pays dividends for first-generation, single-parent students through the combination of increased earning potential, an avenue to salaried and benefited careers that better support families, and changing the intergenerational trajectory. However, our findings indicate systems and classrooms were unprepared to meet the unique needs and challenges faced by this group.

For many of these students, the act of entering post-secondary education in itself was a feat, since college was not presented as an option to them by their families, communities, or high schools. As one participant discussed, the first moment she realized that she too could attend college was within the context of a 15-minute dermatology appointment with a physician who had been a stranger to her.

The participants in this study all spoke about the many sacrifices they made while working toward earning their degrees. For many of these participants, that entailed decreased time and bonding opportunities with their children. Additionally, many of the participants spoke about the sacrifices they experienced by losing a sense of group membership within their families and communities of origin. For many participants, entering higher education created an “othering” experience with their communities of origin, some of whom ostracized the participants for thinking or acting like they were better than their community. For some first-generation, single-parent college students, entering college can bring up feelings of not belonging within higher education, while also jeopardizing their sense of belonging within their communities. This double alienation could create additional socioemotional barriers toward completing their degrees, due to feelings of isolation.

Systems of higher education are largely based on middle-class culture and values, reinforcing norms of conformation through language, dress, and appearance (Beegle, 2003; Jack, 2019). The neoliberal promise that hard work begets success is belied by these participants, who went to great lengths only to fail numerous times. While their successes are encouraging, this sample is not representative of all first-generation, single-parent students. In the end, their success came after their hard work was bolstered by some other support, such as a community program, a tow truck driver, or an empathic professor.

Participants took on huge burdens of debt to finance their education and sometimes damaged their future financial prospects as they attempted to navigate student loans without guidance. They lost time during critical years with their children—even as they pursued education to better their children’s lives—by working multiple jobs, stretching themselves to the limit, and sometimes leaving their children home alone or in questionable care for lack of quality childcare. Some also lost a sense of connection with family, as higher education was so out of the ordinary in their communities of origin. While the participants in this study were able to overcome these barriers, it raises the question: is this a fair cost?

The participants in this study were in many ways the exception, as they had completed or were set to complete degrees. They showed incredible willingness and aptitude in building social capital despite these barriers. This study did not focus on what made them exceptional, though it is certainly worth highlighting the motivation and tenacity they demonstrated. Instead, we examined the challenges that these successful few faced in their educational journeys.

Limitations

The sample size of nine must be considered while making interpretations. Participants were not representative of all first-generation, single-parent college students and hailed heavily from rural communities. Also, while participants often compared their experiences to other students they believed were “single”—in the sense that they did not also have children— those students may have had a variety of unseen identities and roles, including obligations as caregivers for family or community members. While this study focused on the experiences of first-generation, single-mother students, future research might examine additional student identities and related roles and responsibilities that impact educational trajectories.

Another limitation of the study was the lack of comparison in student experiences based upon key demographic variables such as race, age, type of institution attended, type and length of degree, and geographic differences. Since thematic analysis occurred from naturally occurring narratives emerging from student interviews, we were unable to evaluate the nuances of these experiences in the present study. It would be beneficial for future research on this population to include maximum variation sampling (Alordiah & Oji, 2024) to recruit participants who differ on these key variables, in order to understand how these differences shape student experiences.

Additionally, since the focus of this study was on the lived experiences of the students while navigating college, it did not evaluate specific institutional support services offered by colleges. It would be helpful for future research to focus on the effectiveness of interventions or support services for this population to understand potential paths to help increase their retention and graduation rates. Longitudinal work would further shed light on the long-term impacts of navigating higher education with these intersecting identities, across academic, professional, and familial domains—and how such institutional support might improve related outcomes.

Further, one researcher facilitated recruitment and interviews, which limits the lens through which questions were asked. Nevertheless, participant narratives were rich, complex, and dynamic and underscore unique experiences of first-generation, single-parent students.

Recommendations for Institutional and Classroom Change 

Our findings suggest that faculty, staff, and administrators should avoid assumptions about what students know about the culture of higher education. Students entering college without generational knowledge are often unaware of what questions they should even ask. Academic inequalities can be addressed by erasing the assumption that all students enter college with the social capital necessary to succeed. Participants’ experiences navigating college culture varied, but each participant identified hardship at some level. To alleviate this burden for future students, it is important to make implicit customs explicit by creating cultural roadmaps to help students succeed. Professors are well situated to explicitly inform students of expectations on how cultural exchanges play out in their classrooms. Our findings suggest that informing students of guidelines for successful communication with faculty could be especially impactful.

College needs to be more accessible for this population as it was typically not presented as an option, by family, high school teachers, guidance counselors, or even college recruiters. But we must go further than offering college as an option—students need information about the additional challenges and supports available for first-generation and single-parent students. Finishing needs to be as important as starting college in our conversations and interventions. An important start to this is providing such students informed consent up front—that is, informing them of the unique challenges they might face in completing college and pointing them toward programs that will support their unique needs. Students do well in different settings based upon their learning styles and resources. Some might thrive in traditional in-person settings while others may need more flexibility through online, hybrid-delivery, or part-time programs. The point is not to discourage them from enrolling but to set them up for success, including acknowledging the realities of their caregiving responsibilities and what that means in the context of higher education. Such information would empower such students to choose the programs of study that best fit their situation and allow them to proactively address potential obstacles ahead of time.

One of the most salient findings was the power of relationships in creating a sense of connection, which built trust and opened avenues for students to ask for help in navigating the implicit systems and cultures of their colleges (Beegle, 2003). Our findings point to the overwhelming importance of personal connections with faculty and staff in enabling participants to feel comfortable asking questions and getting their needs met. Educational institutions must create avenues for those personal connections to be fostered. This could include formal groups or networks of first-generation or single-parent students, special orientation sessions, faculty mentor networks, or peer mentor networks. Other research points to first-generation students doing better once they “receive permission” to not know how the systems work—to make explicit some of the feelings of alienation first-generation students may feel when not having access to the same institutional knowledge as their peers (Stephens et al., 2014).

Our participants confirmed the importance of such relationships, often pointing to small personal details of faculty and mentors as the point of connection. This empathic communication and relationship building fosters the development and use of social capital to enable student success (Beegle, 2003). Participant responses highlight that even small acts of kindness, mentorship, and guidance by faculty can go a long way. It may be beneficial for higher education settings to create a two-pronged approach toward helping foster a sense of belonging for these students by creating on-campus events that include extended family or community. Since many of the participants described experiences of feeling marginalized by their communities of origin due to their disruptions of the “status quo” by entering higher education, it could be beneficial for higher education settings to create avenues to bridge the two worlds. This could happen through events inviting extended family onto campus to experience college life with picnics, campus tours, speaker series, and so forth. Events like these could help first-generation students feel a greater sense of belonging within their college community, while also demystifying the college experience for the greater community—perhaps even translating to more potential first- generation students realizing college could be an option for them.

In addition to these cultural shifts, our findings highlighted the ongoing financial needs of these students. Financial resources, including childcare, emergency assistance (for one-time costs such as car repairs and medical bills), and connection to community resources would all serve as tangible supports that build safety nets. Relatedly, instructors might critically examine their classroom policies with goals of support and access in mind. Courses must have expectations, to be sure, but things like flexible attendance policies and course delivery format, when possible, would likely have an especially positive impact on this population of students. Colleges and departments within institutions of higher education could help in this regard by operationalizing clear classroom policies that provide guidance to instructors on what types of flexibility and accommodation for these students is allowable while ensuring fairness to all students. For example, universities might consider crafting parental accommodations that are part of broader attendance policies so that the onus is not left to individual instructors.

As these narratives illustrate, it is not enough to just get students into college. They need support to earn a degree. An understanding of the backgrounds and experiences of students with intersecting first-generation, single-parent identities can lead to changes in policy and college culture to be more responsive to all students. Higher education is uniquely positioned to foster economic equality and should be at the forefront of alleviating class and cultural barriers within its own institutional walls.