As a first-generation college student, I knew that I needed to get an education in order to give myself a better chance at life, one better than my parents could ever offer. But I never dreamed of being rich, famous, or even important. I just wanted to be okay. I wanted a stable life after a childhood marked by chaos. Because of this, I spent the beginning of my college years in survival mode. It didn’t matter what I did as long as I got a degree; for me, it was my ticket out of a life of poverty.

When I discovered my passion for sociology and was further along in my college career, my mindset shifted. I didn’t just want this degree to help myself. I also wanted to be successful, so that one day I could be in a position to help others. I have been given the honor an privilege of being accepted into a top 20 sociology graduate program. Something someone with my background is statistically unlikely to ever achieve.

While I am proud of this accomplishment and all that I’ve learned so far, I still cannot shake the feeling that my desire to help others and my position as an academic are at odds with each other. The ivory tower allots one the power and skills necessary to create knowledge. There isn’t a doubt that the academy plays an important role in society.

However, the focus on the creation of knowledge and publishing in journals can suck the humanity out of the work I do. Currently, I don’t feel like either of my hands are being used to directly help those in need. As a Ph.D. student I am part of a system that does not necessarily reward work to help those in need on the ground. In fact, many academics are extremely far removed from the problems they study due their position of privilege.

This upsets me because I did not want to go to graduate school so I could look down from a tower writing about issues that need to be solved. I don’t want my work to only be absorbed by others just like me, inaccessible to the people that can use the knowledge to actually enact change. While I am not happy with my consistent personal conflict between wanting to be a researcher and wanting to help others, the discomfort is important. It is a constant reminder of what is important to me. It is a fire in my belly that I hold precious and refuse to lose.