Like every Filipino parent,  my mom stressed the importance of education to me daily. “Son, make sure you do well in school and get a college degree because you have all the opportunities in the world here in the States.” Like every pre-teen/ teen growing up in the 90s, I pretended like I listened so I can continue doing what I loved doing, watching my shows on TV and making sure I was updated with pop culture. Ha!

While my mom’s talk was like a broken record, it really did help motivate me to do well in high school and navigate the jungle world of college admission. I saw my mom working hard for the money every day, so I figured I at least had to make the same effort to become the first person in my family to get a college degree. I also did not want to keep living in an unsafe neighborhood, worry about drug dealers, gang violence, or getting paid $8 an hour pushing shopping carts and saying “Welcome to Wal-Mart”. 

I thought it was easy, “hey, this is the US right? Anyone who wants to get a college education can get one.” At least that’s what I always hear from people.  Well I discovered otherwise! Growing up in a disadvantaged community like Vallejo is not ideal for youngsters who aspire to be a doctor, lawyer, astronaut, or the next CEO of an American company who oversee sweat shops, use child labor, and the like to get richer (that’s another conversation). Luckily, I jumped in the “honor class” and “AP class” bandwagon before it was too late. Let me tell you, there are good and bad things about taking honor/AP classes (truthfully I was surprise my high school even offered AP classes). While I did get a lot more homework than the other kids and the expectations were a lot higher, I knew I’d rather deal with that than sitting in regular classes worrying if I was going to get hit if there was a fight, getting bullied, or constantly hearing the “yo momma, or you so fat, you so ugly” come back. It was definitely worth being in these classes because in the end I learned how to get the hell out of my ghetto-ass neighborhood and not end up working for minimum wage.

Before you read on, I just wanted to include a disclaimer that states this is my personal journey and of getting my name on expensive ass paper that states I paid my dues to get a BS and now I’m a member of an exclusive club in America. 

Now without further ado…here’s the information I have picked up over the years with college admissions (to be continued).