Harvard: in the minds of many Americans and people across the world, the name is synonymous with prestige. Old, red brick buildings filled with students whose parents have old, green money. To some, it smells of success, while to others, it reeks of elitism.
All of these perspectives have a component of truth. But to a wide-eyed, first-generation, low-income (FGLI) college student, Harvard represents something else: opportunity.
As a first-generation college student, the concept of college seemed distant and unfamiliar. None of my family members knew about the application process or had the experience of being a college student. My grandmother wanted to attend university more than anything in the world, but could not due to her socioeconomic status and new financial strains that cropped up when she became a young adult. Being astutely aware of the limitations that still lingered around someone of our background, she and my parents encouraged me to pursue higher education, prioritize my academics, and stay ambitious. When the day finally came to assemble my college list, shooting for the stars was a no-brainer.
The application process was daunting. There was terminology being thrown around by school counselors — FAFSA, grants, loans, early action, early decision — and loads of fear-mongering information online. From surfing the internet, I thought I needed to have produced peer-reviewed research, won international awards, and shaken hands with the president, or else my chances of being admitted to an Ivy League college were doomed. No student from my high school had ever been admitted to Harvard before, so the application process was even elusive to some staff at my school. Even after piecing it all together, I was still highly discouraged by the idea that I would never be able to live up to Harvard’s elite status — or afford its almost $90,000 sticker price.
However, what most FGLI students do not realize is how accessible Harvard can be for low-income families. The narrative that the university is reserved for the wealthy discourages underprivileged students from applying who may have otherwise found success.
In 2023, students from families with annual incomes less than $85,000 could attend Harvard completely free, including tuition, living expenses, and travel costs. To reflect the higher cost of living post-pandemic, that threshold was recently increased to $100,000 starting in the 2025-26 academic year. Harvard’s expansion even added a provision in which families with an annual income below $200,000 would at least be able to send their child tuition-free, qualifying 86% of American households for aid. The Harvard administration’s move to ease the financial burden on families gives students the opportunity to graduate without debt at a lower cost than most state schools. As a Californian myself, attending a UC — a school within California’s flagship state university system — would have ultimately cost me thousands more dollars annually than I would have to pay here at Harvard. After news came about the college’s new financial aid policy, Harvard, of course, still felt “elite,” but it no longer felt inaccessible.
Despite these changes to the financial aid policy, Harvard is still written off as unaffordable, demonstrating an information gap between the university and the low-income students it hopes to attract. After I was accepted to Harvard and committed in May, I could not avoid passing quips from members of my community about the cost of attendance. “Good luck paying all that money,” “Hope you’re ready to take out a loan,” and “Why not go somewhere cheaper,” were phrases that circulated equally as much as they praised my achievement.
Their sentiment is not entirely unfounded. With its tuition fees hitting almost $90,000, it is no wonder that Harvard feels unwelcoming to those outside of the top 5% — let alone to those towards the bottom. For FGLI students, the lack of information about applying to college already puts us at a disadvantage, but the price tag attached to every step of the process can be discouraging beyond belief. Between SAT registration fees, transport to testing locations, and application costs, it is no wonder many FGLI students want to throw in the towel.
It was only through digging deep into ways to alleviate the financial stress of college applications that I discovered organizations offering fee waivers and Harvard’s generous financial aid policies. However, I often wonder how many bright FGLI students are out there, heads filled with misconceptions that Harvard is not a school for people like them. My brazen, borderline unreasonable confidence that everything would work out is the sole reason I applied and ignored Harvard’s sticker price. Without that blind faith, I would not be here at this school today.
On top of FGLI misconceptions, there are media ones too. Attending this school during a flurry of news headlines and outlets fixating on Harvard’s wealthy status can feel conflicting. Although I understand its allure, I feel like my identity and the identities of many other FGLI students get completely erased in the media landscape.
People tend to speak as if all Harvard students are rich and connected. These sentiments are felt even from sympathetic sources like The Citizens’ Voice, which wrote back in June that, “Harvard is just about the most unrelatable [institution] to run-of-the-mill Americans.” They underscored this by mentioning “its reputation as an educational haven for societal elites.” While it’s true that Harvard admits a disproportionately upper-class student body, these notions cause many to assume that the entire student body is wealthy, excluding the FGLI experience at this school. But a portion of the student body here also would’ve considered themselves “run-of-the-mill Americans” before opening their acceptance letters. I certainly was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I check my bank account before I make purchases. I make peace with the fact that it will be months before I see my family again because trips across the country are too expensive most of the year. Lingering assumptions about Harvard’s unaffordability both dissuade FGLI students from applying and cause people outside the institution to neglect FGLI experiences.
My financial worries would exist regardless of the institution I attended, but Harvard at least makes the struggles manageable. Even so, some may describe Harvard’s acceptance of FGLI students as “performative” rather than altruistic. While Harvard can and should improve outreach to students from low-income backgrounds, they have made steps in the right direction earlier this year by partnering with QuestBridge, an organization dedicated to “connecting the nation’s brightest students from low-income backgrounds to top colleges and universities.”
Still, Harvard’s debated authenticity feels secondary to me when they provide a stipend to buy a winter coat or a start-up grant to make it through the month. This institution has truly changed my life, and the lives of many of my FGLI peers, for the better. Though I have no problem advocating for increased access to FGLI applicants, I personally cannot ask for anything more.
Despite Harvard perpetuating elitism at times in its selectiveness and culture, it offers a strong path forward for those with limited choices. A golden ticket towards opportunity, the university allows FGLI students to fulfill the seemingly distant American dream. Futures fleetingly thought possible become realized with one acceptance letter. If I could convince one low-income student to apply, I would be fulfilled. This school is for people like us, too. I only wish the world remembered we were here.
