The last month and a half have arguably been the most challenging and daunting time of my entire life. I moved across the world from the most highly populated city in India, New Delhi, to the quaint city of Winston-Salem. I did all of this on my own to start afresh in college. Navigating the transition from high school to college is already hard enough, but when you add in the aspects of being at a predominantly white institution, as someone who is Indian and did not grow up around American culture, it makes the experience a whole lot harder.

I remember in my senior year of high school — right about the time I committed to Wake Forest — I was concerned about the lack of diversity and how that crucial factor would impact my college experience. Nonetheless, I decided to take the leap and committed. The first few weeks after I knew I would be going to Wake Forest, I went out of my way to try and make friends virtually with other incoming freshmen — I was so terrified that I would be left out and lonely and wasn’t going to “fit in”. I know these are normal feelings for anyone moving away from home and starting a new chapter of their lives in college, but, by speaking to other students around me, my feelings and fears became amplified.

College is about meeting new people. And when you meet new people, you introduce yourself. Something as simple as telling others my name is now something I dread. I get the confused looks, and the worst of all — some people don’t even acknowledge the fact that I do have a name or avoid making an effort to say it, simply because they find it a little hard to pronounce. Telling someone your name is a simple thing, but also such an integral part of your identity that even a minor thing like this feels incredibly belittling.

The first 10-or-so days after being here, I was hyper-aware of the fact that I looked different than most people and sounded different than most people, and I hated it. I was so conscious of every single word I spoke and constantly felt like mocking eyes were on me. I remember thinking in my head, “I wish I had an American accent” and “Oh, how I wish I looked like everyone else.” Sometimes, when I am able to be mature and optimistic I look at the fact that I’m different and unique as an advantage, and I feel on top of the world. But those moments of optimism come very rarely. Most of the time, I feel like someone even saying my name the right way is an extra and unnecessary burden on them.

Another aspect of being at a predominantly white institution is feeling culturally isolated. While everyone gets to go home and be with their families to celebrate the important festivals of their cultures, I have to go to class and move on with my day, like I’m not missing one of the most important days of the year to me. I will sometimes start speaking in Hindi because that’s what I’m used to, realizing halfway through speaking that no one understands it. When someone talks about how they grew up in the states, I sit quietly in the conversation, not being able to relate. People haven’t been very interested in getting to know about my culture and upbringing because it is different from theirs. I wish people would acknowledge the fact that I had a life before I came to college, and that it was fun and full of interesting experiences, too. Just because my experiences were different doesn’t make them invalid.

I know some of this might sound like I’m being overdramatic and a little too sensitive, but kindness and empathy is all I ask for. The transition to college has been a very overwhelming and challenging experience for most people, and hopefully, this perspective of life through my lens about my first month at college can serve as advocacy for more diversity.