The Circuitous Path to My College Degree

Isabella Moles with her college diploma

MY FIRST SEMESTER at college, I became homeless.

I got my idea of college from movies I’d seen—movies like Legally Blonde, 22 Jump Street, House Bunny, Accepted, and Animal House—so I was not prepared for how different my own college experience would be. It had all started off well enough: I quickly made friends, I joined clubs, and even performed poetry and dance as if I was a Bardon Bella from Pitch Perfect. My off-campus housing situation appeared suitable, secure and rent was affordable—one of my roommates even attended Susquehanna University with me! But suddenly our renter had an emergency and we were literally left without a roof over our heads. As our living situation upended, my college fantasy shattered.

For two years I was a nomad, bouncing from one friend’s house to another. I stayed enrolled in college, but was not mentally showing up. Exhausted, I could literally feel the burnout coursing through me. Nevertheless, I forced myself to stay the course. 

Goals for my future remained my anchor. In high school, I believed I was capable of making change. I worked at a nonprofit to help combat local food insecurity, and used my voice to uplift others and bring awareness to problems within the community. I wanted to travel, produce video content, go to Capitol Hill and lobby for the good guys, be a businesswoman, and give a TEDtalk. I’d dreamt of becoming a political leader. But in college, it was as if I was trying to pour from an empty cup. What I didn’t understand then is that, in order to truly help others and make change, I had to first help myself and find change from within. 

Nothing in the world could have prepared me for what came next: I lost my mother. Totally consumed by grief, I existed in a world of resentment. My belief in myself, in my passions and goals, dried up. I lost any sense of hope. But of course there was more: the pandemic hit. As one of the few students with no home to return to, I felt completely left behind. So I dropped out. 

When I was young, my mom went back to school to pursue her college degree. She couldn’t afford child care, so she would bring me to her classes. A random child and older lady in college classes filled with young adults must have been weird, but we made it work. Watching my mom’s determination and focus on her studies set an early example for me on how to study, and why. I grew up associating education with a life of substance, and her degree meant we could have a better life. 

With all that I braved, my mental wellbeing was at an all time low. I’d become suicidal, and I needed a break from college, where I’d experienced so many dramatic hardships on my own. So I left college and returned to my home state. It was not a matter of giving up, but of making memories with my family—I hadn’t lived with them since elementary school, and had distanced myself from them and my hometown out of fear. But I didn’t want fear to limit me. For my demons to leave me alone, I knew I had to face them. Returning home was a chance to live. 

It felt right.The move closer to my family reignited my dreams. 

In Spokane, Washington, I got an apartment, a good full-time job, and lived comfortably. Thanks to the business classes I took at Susquehanna University, I was hired as the Executive Director of the Inland Northwest Business Alliance, a LGBTQ+ chamber of commerce for Eastern Washington and Northern Idaho. I wanted to prove I was right for the job, so where I lacked experience, I sought out guidance. I attended public lectures.  Always learning, I read a range of books related to the field including good habit development, psychology, and general self-help. 

After a year passed, I still didn’t feel ready to return to the structure of college. At the same time, I worried that if I waited until I did feel ready, it might be too late. PowHERful Foundation, which had provided so much support for me in college and during my break, joined with my family in recommending I go back to college and complete my degree. Finally, as the pandemic neared its end, I returned to Susquehanna University. 

Back at college, I began to think my doubts about returning were validated: just halfway through the first semester of being back, I had to take a medical withdrawal. This was HARD.

Still, before the start of the new semester, with both Susquehanna University and PowHERful behind me, I committed myself to making it through. 

I am reminded of a quote, “ready is too late.” When I let go of the notion that I had to be perfectly ready and accepted that I never will be, it was easier to get up and do what needed to be done. I’ve learned that, sometimes, the things that are worth doing are not the easiest, but the hardest. For me, getting through college was just that. 

As the pandemic waned, I could once again attend in-person classes and school events. I had evolved, surviving difficult life experiences and, in this way, felt older than my peers. I found a new drive to study and to succeed. Some classes were difficult, while others flew by easily. I joined clubs and participated in college events, meeting new people and creating great memories. Looking back, I learned much from what my professors taught, but I also see there is no greater education than to have worked through the toughest of personal challenges. No matter how difficult things may get, I have it in me to stay the course. 

In May 2023, I received a B.A. in Strategic Communications Public Relations and a minor in Film Studies from Susquehanna University. I see my diploma as a team effort: Soledad O’Brien and the PowHERful Foundation stood with me, and time and again provided the kind of support I needed to not give up. I could not be more grateful. The moment I walked across the stage and received my diploma, I felt free!

The future is unclear, but I don’t fear it. I want to travel, to learn new languages and meet new people as my education continues beyond the classroom. I'm so amazed and so happy to have successfully brought to term this chapter with my college degree, and I’m looking eagerly forward to what lies ahead. 

—Isabella Moles