Leveling the Playing Field
Written by Jace Gertz
Illustrated by Tanvi Gupta
During my first year at Austin Community College (ACC), I saw a tweet about how the long commute from Riverside to campus is just another way that succeeding at UT is more difficult while being a low-income student. I rolled my eyes; I live on Riverside and was commuting between several ACC campuses a day at the time. I said under my breath, “It’s really not that bad.” Years later, I realize the 40 minute trek to class is a big deal. Little obstacles absolutely compound while completing a difficult degree. This isn’t an article about living on Riverside, though. The story speaks to a larger issue within low-income communities; we are chronically embarrassed of the hurdles we face due to our socioeconomic status. We don’t talk about these hurdles enough, and as a result, socioeconomic disparities persist, and gaps widen – like the one in STEM education.
When I was younger, there were several occasions when my mom had to count the pocket change I saved up for us to eat that night. Despite the numerous adverse financial circumstances we constantly found ourselves in, my mom refused any form of income assistance for years. Taking after her, I also adamantly refused food assistance programs at school. Growing up low-income affects you in unexpected ways. Sure, you learn early on that being poor is frightening, dangerous, and stressful. More than anything, though, the focal point typically centers on making sure others do not know that you are low-income, out of fear they would think less of you.
Experiencing a number of unfavorable circumstances throughout childhood due to low-income status can drastically increase an individual’s Adverse Childhood Experience (ACE) score. One’s ACE score paints a reasonably complete picture of the level of hardship an individual endured in childhood, with higher scores connected to a plethora of problems in adulthood. On top of the impact of excess difficulty during important periods of development, constantly feeling like you need to hide your hardships causes extreme stress, and can result in varying ranges of rejection sensitivity and emotional dysregulation when compounded over the course of many years.
Almost everyone believes that resource discrepancies play a role in the gaps in academic performance between low-income and higher income groups. Though these resource discrepancies certainly play a role, rejection sensitivity and emotional dysregulation may be even more impactful. If rejection is perceived as catastrophic, seeking help becomes difficult and stressful. Furthermore, if one’s physical response to stress is significantly elevated, intense classes and exams can become nearly impossible to perform well in. With this in mind, the differences in academic success, particularly in STEM, between low-income individuals and their high-income peers begin to make more sense. Lacking resources only adds extra hoops to jump through, and when combined with higher baseline stress levels, many marginalized groups don’t have the energy to pursue the sciences long term.
So, what can be done? Leveling the playing field through allocating required resources is one way to decrease stress levels and provide a deeper sense of belonging in academic environments. The Texas Advance Commitment, for example, has drastically improved my outlook on life, deconstructing a lot of obstacles in my college career path. The Texas Advance Commitment provides tuition support for families earning up to $125,000 per year, and provides free tuition to families earning up to $65,000 per year. My tuition has been free since the end of my sophomore year and the impact on how I feel is night and day. I feel so much more connected to UT’s atmosphere and more able to engage with opportunities on campus now that my current everyday stressors resemble those of my CNS peers.
The solutions to rejection, stress, and emotional sensitivity are much more difficult, as these effects are deeply wired in the brain. Higher Education Emergency Relief (HEERF) funds financed quality therapy for me during the pandemic, but those sort of packages were never meant to be long-term additions to the UT Austin experience. Although affordable options for mental healthcare exist on campus, students dealing with the impacts of complex trauma and emotional dysregulation may find they need a higher level of care and more specific, less accessible treatment.
Personally, I found the research-based strategies in Strategic Learning framed around the Dembo and Seli book “Motivation and Learning Strategies for College Success” vastly more helpful than the mental health resources on campus. For those who grew up with a general lack of guidance, adequate calming techniques, or an understanding that thoughts can be reframed to reduce negative impact, the course/book may also be a helpful set of skills for you. The book is centered around all elements of successful school performance, but I found almost all of the skills can be adapted for increased resilience outside of school as well. I can’t say the content will work wonders for everyone — it is certainly not a complete solution — but I do think it’s one of the most effective and accessible ways to start to “catch up” to those who seem to handle life with a little more ease.
There is a lot that can change on campus in terms of resources specifically targeted towards low-income students struggling with emotional dysregulation and extreme stress. Reprogramming neural pathways through regulation interventions and compassion, as well as allowing for processing in a safe environment are key. In the classroom, professors need to be educated about the unique challenges that come with a low-income background, particularly when that student has a higher ACE score or the student has been academically or socially marginalized in multiple ways. There is no specific system that can be recommended to identify these students or address their struggles, but understanding promotes compassion, and ultimately, that is what these students require.
Last, but not least, there is also a personal component to all of this for low-income students and those close to them. What I’ve learned most through my journey of being low-income in STEM is that you have to fight for you. Despite the immense difficulty of doing so, you need to advocate for yourself, speak up against unfair circumstances, take advantage of available resources, persist through setbacks, and find ways to love yourself and demonstrate self-care. The world won’t change overnight and you deserve a level playing field, even when your environment doesn’t feel like one.
The STEM field needs marginalized students' creativity, drive, and passion. Your struggle yields insight and skills many others don’t have. Although paving the way to equal opportunity for students with more adverse backgrounds will be difficult and arduous, it is more than worth it. The potential contributions to STEM in research, professorship positions, healthcare, and other related careers from students with this background cannot be understated.