So you may pose questions to students in different ways. For instance, when I work with students of color, I won’t necessarily say, “Where are you from?” because for some groups, like Asian Americans, how that gets translated is that you’re asking me what my ethnicity is. So what I say to students now is, “Where do you call home?” It’s still getting at the same thing, but it leads to more conversation. Everybody may call home a different place. It’s just thinking about the language, the questions, how you ask them, to not make assumptions. 

BU Today: Where do you call home? 

I will always hold Vermont dearly as my home. 

BU Today: Can you talk a little more about growing up there and how you got to UNH?

My parents came to this country from the Netherlands as young people. They met in New Jersey, had my three older siblings—my younger sister and I are adopted—and went to Vermont to start a dairy farm in North Ferrisburgh. 

I grew up in a very conservative, Christian Reformed denomination community, where the expectation was that you would get married and have kids. I always felt different. Also, being Korean and an Asian American adoptee, there was just something inside me that said, “The dairy farm isn’t for me.” 

In high school I got involved with Future Business Leaders of America. I had a teacher who was a wonderful mentor. I graduated second in my senior class. I was always known as the smart kid, but when I started thinking about college, at first I looked at junior colleges. That seemed more practical. I thought I could be an accountant—something where I knew I could always earn a living. 

I was able to land a scholarship to the University of New Hampshire to study hotel administration. I remember filling out all the financial aid forms, and not understanding what it all meant. 

BU Today: When you were at UNH, did you have that feeling of not belonging that a lot of first-gen students talk about? 

Absolutely, and on a lot of different levels. I wish I knew then what I know now. My friend and I—she was first-gen, too—on the weekends, we’d take walks at midnight across campus and we’d look at the travel posters for study abroad and we’d say, “I wish we could do that. But we can’t afford to do that.” So we’d already discounted ourselves, and now I’ve learned that because I had financial aid and was a high-need student, if I’d explored that, I could have gone abroad. 

I worked in the dining hall my first year. I hated it, because these were peers in my classes, and here I am serving them. You had to wear a uniform. Fortunately, after my first year I had friends who connected me with institutional research, and I got a job processing faculty evaluations. A lot of students would come back from spring break and say, “I went to Miami,” or “I went to Barbados.” You feel left out. I worked during spring break because I needed money for food.

BU Today: What are some of your other ideas for the Newbury Center?

I’m going to be talking with the Study Abroad office. Historically, it’s been mostly white women who studied abroad. There is a movement now toward trying to diversify who goes on study abroad.

UNC used to have a drive to help students get passports. They would have a big recognition event for those students, where they would hear from other students who had studied abroad. It was an effort to encourage more students of color and more first-gen students to study abroad. I would love to explore what something like that might look like at BU.
 
There’s also a movement to get more companies to recognize the first-gen identity because we have first-generation professionals going to work for them. What types of things can be put in place for students, whether it’s a pipeline program or internships—and even a new professional development program—once they get to the company? That’s something that I want to explore.
 
We have students who may be sending money home and may need help navigating that. There’s a lot of what some folks call survivor’s guilt. I had first-gen students at UNC who were 45 minutes away from home, but they were one of the primary caregivers for the family while their parents were at work. And if they couldn’t be there to help, they were wracked with guilt.
 
I’m crossing my fingers that we’ll receive the First-gen Forward designation for BU. This is a program, through the Center for First-Generation Student Success [Erb is a member of the center’s advocacy group], that recognizes institutions that have demonstrated a commitment to helping first-gen students succeed. We would join 157 colleges and universities that have won this recognition, and we would have access to a network of regular professional development activities, best practices, and an annual conference. 

Another goal is to establish the Tri-Alpha Honor Society at BU. That’s a national honor society for first-gen students. It recognizes students with a 3.2 GPA or higher. Not only can undergrads and graduate students be inducted, but also faculty and staff who were first-generation students. It connects students across the country.

BU Today: Can you talk a little more about what you believe first-generation students bring to a college campus? 

It’s really the resilience and the grit that they bring to being successful. These students are so incredible. Some have had to overcome multiple barriers. Sometimes they just need additional information, or an explanation, because they haven’t encountered this experience before—just to reassure them they’re not alone.
 
Imposter syndrome is very real for these students. They feel like they’re “not supposed to be here.” We need to help combat those little voices. I’m a director and that imposter syndrome will still rear its head once in a while. I tell students, “That voice will never go away, but it lessens as you get older and have more experience.” 

Now, with the Newbury Center, I just feel like the sky’s the limit.