Hiding amongst the redwood trees of California’s central coast (and the windy Highway 17) is a magical place called UC Santa Cruz.

Here, walks to class are equivalent to hikes through the forest, and you might be as likely to run into a group of deer as you would a pigeon in San Francisco — a nature-lover’s paradise realized. However, growing up in the suburbs of the Bay Area, eighteen-year-old me was not interested.

Growing up, your first teachers are those who raise you. My parents came to the United States from the Philippines a few years before I was born. I remember as a kid always wanting to be Jay Leno, to grow up and host a show where I could stay up all night and talk with people. However, being the youngest of three boys, I always remember one lesson my parents instilled in me:

“Don’t speak up, just say ‘okay’ and follow along.”

Kind of ironic for a kid who wanted to have his own talk show, right?

Telling a young child not to speak up may seem harsh. If you knew my family, you’d realize that we are a unique bunch. “We just don’t talk, that’s it” might be a pretty accurate explanation if you asked my parents. It can be good not to speak on impulse, but in some ways, not speaking has also served as a barrier in my life.

Fall of my senior year of high school was a blur. I didn’t know the SATs were a requirement to attend college. To be honest, I was looking forward to a more “chill” senior year that did not include math, after having struggled through pre-calculus the year before. Little did I know that I would need that additional year of math. I didn’t know much about colleges, aside from the Stanford’s and UC Berkeley’s my dad would always talk about. I remember those first few weeks back in school and how anxious it felt to think about life after high school.

Fast forward a few months of working as an after school tutor and taking a community college math class, I found out that I had not been granted admission to most of the schools I applied for, with the exception of UC Santa Cruz and CSU East Bay. What was I supposed to do? At the time, I felt silly for having taken that math class at Ohlone Community College and to have spent as much time after school tutoring that I did. I put so much energy into getting into a prestigious school for my parents that I hadn’t braced myself for the idea that I might not be “good enough” to get into them. Maybe this was a sign that college wasn’t for me, at least for now.

All great stories start with “that one phone call” right? I can still remember getting “that phone call” from some random 510 number. It was from a UC Santa Cruz student who had also graduated from my high school. After chatting for a bit, she invited me to come and attend a student-initiated outreach program she was helping organize called A Step Forward (ASF). I wouldn’t have to commit to UCSC to attend and it would be a good chance to meet people, learn about college life, and see the UCSC campus. Plus, transportation, food, and lodging would be free!

In 99% of situations like these, 18 year-old me would have been too shy to go, but it only took a short conversation and a little talking and I was convinced. (A wise college student once said, “I heard ‘free,’ and I was there.”) I still remember sharing my reservations about going with a friend and how they said that if there is just one person at this school going out of their way to reach out to me, maybe I should take it as a sign.

Those 3 days I spent in Santa Cruz were so much more than what I had expected. The entire program was run by students involved in one of UCSC’s student organizations, the Filipino Student Association (FSA). It was impactful to learn firsthand about college life from living, breathing college students that looked like me. It also meant a lot to be so readily welcomed by the student community. I was staying up playing cards and sharing stories with people I had literally just met. Somehow, I found myself being vulnerable with people in ways I had never been before in my life. I thought that college was all about going to class and studying that I didn’t realize the community that could be waiting for me — it was just a matter of finding it.

Have you ever felt a feeling deep down where you were really drawn to a certain place or thing? After ASF, that’s how I felt and how I knew Santa Cruz was the right place for me.

ASF was my bridge into the Filipino Student Association (FSA), which opened me up to a community of peers already in college who helped make my transition into college a smooth one. It meant a lot to have peers who I could navigate the experience of being a first generation college student of color at a university with. Being part of a minority group on campus, it was empowering to work together with our communities and allies to create our space within the campus, whether it be through various events, through small interactions on campus, or at a social gathering. I felt both encouraged and inspired by my peers to speak up and to try to push myself in exploring my identity and what mattered most to me.

All throughout my first year, a lot of my peers would encourage me to consider running for some type of leadership role within FSA for the next school year. I felt hesitant. I never saw myself as someone to step up and seek a leadership position like that. But at the same time, I had never really given myself the chance to either.

Going into my second year, I decided to apply to help organize ASF, the program I had participated in as a high school senior. Surprisingly, I was selected for the position and I couldn’t believe it! Talking with the other coordinators of the program, I mentioned how I was concerned about my public speaking skills, and they connected me with another community member who had helped them with their public speaking too.

The night before our first event in November, we met at a parking lot near my dorm on campus. We talked about why I felt that I struggled with speaking loudly or in front of people and reflected on that a bit. At first, we took turns yelling a rhyme into the parking lot:

“I am a mother pheasant plucker. I pluck mother pheasants. I am the most pleasant mother pheasant plucker who ever plucked a mother pheasant.”

At first, my voice felt so unsure, so wobbly and worried. Then she had me yell it over and over for maybe half an hour until it was dark and cold. It really took me aback that she took time to stand with me and listen to me yell in the cold. Having someone reach out and support me in that way made me want to use my voice and really any means I had to reach out and support others as well. Additionally, I was surprised at how much more confidently I felt speaking the next day. Taking on A Step Forward, a program that involves over 100 volunteers, over 50 high school participants, I think it was always in the small moments that went unseen that I found my voice (both literally and figuratively).

Having attended ASF as a participant and coordinated it while in college, I was fortunate enough to see many small moments that factored into the growth of many of my peers, as well as in myself. In stark contrast, it showed me how small, negative moments can also have their own impact.

While coordinating ASF my junior year, some volunteers and I were accompanying high school participants to the residential building they would be sleeping in. While passing a different dorm on our way there, a few UCSC students (not associated with our program) yelled at us from their window, saying how they didn’t want us on campus and that there was no reason for us to be visiting. I spoke with the high school students after that incident and realized that one of their major concerns was whether this type of experience was typical of UCSC or of any other college campus. This incident helped me see how one person’s decision to make college feel less welcoming could outweigh the efforts of many to create a safe and welcoming introduction to college. Through ASF, I had a better sense of the power I had as a college student and the privilege I had to decide what I wanted to do with it.

Alongside ASF, the other major event that FSA hosts is its Pilipino Cultural Celebration, or PCC. PCC is an annual cultural production where different performance teams (dance, acting, improv, etc.) in FSA come together to host a show that engages the audience in different aspects of Pilipino culture or history.

My entire first year, I was encouraged by many upperclassmen to participate in the production. For my first two years, I helped out with the Tech Crew for the show, but was always too shy to perform onstage, despite a lot of encouragement from peers. During my junior year of college, I decided to try out for both our folk dance group and our a cappella group. I ended up dancing for both my junior and senior years and making the a cappella team my senior year. (As you might have guessed, I have never been a singer or dancer.) Some of my most favorite memories in college were of me staying up until 2 or 3 in the morning trying to get a performance right with people who cared about it as much as I did. I came into college trained to not speak up and somehow found myself dancing, speaking, and singing on stage.

In a lot of ways, I believe I learned as much outside of the classroom as I did inside of one. I came into college as a Health Sciences major, even though I knew that math and the sciences were not strong areas for me. I went to as many office hours as I could, attended free tutoring sessions, and spent hours in the library, but I didn’t see my struggles change. It got to a point where I adopted this idea that I wasn’t good enough. All the while, my experience in college outside of the classroom with student organizing was completely different. I had such a different sense of my own self-efficacy and potential.

Somehow I was able to make it to the end of my junior year, but Organic Chemistry and multi-variable Calculus had taken their toll. I realized that my involvement with various FSA programs felt so positive because I was able to focus on connecting with others, helping peers feel engaged on campus, and speaking on things that felt more relevant to me in my life. I had to make this decision about owning my education. Should education ever “teach” you that you aren’t good enough?

I ended up switching to Psychology and was astounded by how different I felt. I still went to class and studied as much as I did in my old major, but I felt much more capable and motivated by the results I was seeing. Having a community that had my back played a major role in my retention as a student at UCSC. Without my experience with FSA, I might not have had an idea of the greener grass that was available in a different major, one that was closely tied to the values that FSA showed me I was passionate about.

Looking back now, I still can’t believe the person I was before high school and the person I became in college. I’m extremely thankful for the opportunities to have learned so much about myself. I am fortunate to have had such a positive introduction to college, and I hope to pay that forward through my work at ScholarMatch. I strive to encourage students to seek community and safe spaces to grow in through taking ownership of their own college journey.

A first-generation college student originally from the East Bay, Oliver Pascua graduated from UC Santa Cruz with a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology. While at UCSC, he helped lead A Step Forward (ASF), a student initiated outreach program that aims to promote higher education to students coming from underserved communities throughout California. After college, he worked as a College Adviser at KIPP King Collegiate High School in San Lorenzo, supporting students in preparing for college. Oliver is passionate about supporting youth in navigating their college journeys and pursuing their goals. In his free time you might find Oliver cheering on the Warriors, or walking his dog.

#MyCollegeStory is a ScholarMatch original series highlighting the diverse and varied journeys to and through higher education. Check back each month for new stories!

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