Landing in Washington from Cambodia less than a year ago felt like resetting my entire life to zero. New language, new systems, new expectations—everything needed to be learned from scratch. My full name is Han Phannmannavy Phorn, but almost everyone here just calls me Navy. This is my third quarter at Everett Community College, and in a lot of ways, it feels like I’m just beginning to understand how things work.
When I first arrived in November, I didn’t know anything about college in the U.S. My uncle was the one who suggested starting at a community college instead of a university. He explained that it would cost less money and be a better first step while I was still learning how everything functions here. That’s the main reason I chose community college—I needed somewhere more affordable and a bit gentler as I learned my way around a new country.
At first, I enrolled at Edmonds College because that’s where my uncle had studied. But as an international student, I was charged much higher tuition. They told me I hadn’t lived in Washington State for 12 months yet, so I didn’t qualify for lower rates. After doing some research, I realized EvCC was a bit more affordable for someone in my situation, so I transferred. Even then, I was placed in the “non-resident” category—cheaper than international, but still more expensive than a resident. I’ve just recently passed the one-year mark of living here, so now I need to update my status so I can hopefully pay resident tuition.
Right now, I’m pursuing computer science. I want to keep exploring coding and technology and see where it takes me. My dream is to work at a big company like Microsoft or Google someday. Higher education matters to me because it’s a path to stability and possibility—whether I end up staying here or going back to Cambodia. With a good education, I can find better work, earn enough to support myself, and help my family.
From my experience, college is not affordable. Tuition here is five to ten times more expensive than in my home country. I’ve spent a lot, especially on school. The good thing is that I did receive some financial aid when I first arrived, and that helped. But the system is complicated, and being labeled “non-resident” or “international” automatically makes everything more expensive.
That’s why the idea of making the first two years of college free feels so powerful to me. At a conference in Spokane, I heard a lot of stories from people who grew up here and still struggle under the weight of tuition. It’s not just immigrants who feel the burden. People already work so hard just to study; adding financial stress on top of assignments, exams, and everyday life makes it much harder. Free college for the first two years would let students focus more on learning and less on whether they can afford to continue.
In my daily life, basic needs are also a big part of the picture. When I first got here, I tried to apply for benefits like food assistance, but I wasn’t eligible because I hadn’t lived here long enough or didn’t have the right status. I had to find support in other ways. Last quarter, I was able to receive a gift card for food from EvCC, and that helped a lot. This quarter, I didn’t get one because of limits, and I feel that gap. School is expensive, and on top of that, my parents are paying for things like gas and insurance. We’re new here; everything costs more than we expected.
Transportation is another challenge. I travel about 40 minutes each way on the bus to get to campus. That means waking up very early and spending a lot of time commuting. Free or discounted transportation for students, especially those who live far away, would make a huge difference. Even parking costs add up—once I get a car, I’ll have to think about that too.
One of the hardest parts is that many students don’t even know what help exists. I only found out about some programs by walking around campus, reading posters, and digging through the website. Information isn’t always shared in class. Unless you go looking for it, you might never know what’s available.
Transferring is another big question mark in my mind. This is only my third quarter, so I haven’t gone through the transfer process here yet. I’m connected with TRIO and MESA, and I think they’ll help me when the time comes, especially since I’m low-income. But I’ve already had a complicated experience with transfer in another way.
Before I came to the U.S., I completed my first year at a university in Cambodia. I needed my transcripts evaluated so that EvCC could count those credits. I ended up spending nearly $200 through an agency just to process the same papers with their logo for recognition here. Even after three quarters, I still haven’t received final confirmation about my credits. I may have to retake courses I’ve technically already done—like business communication—just because the evaluation isn’t complete. It’s frustrating because it isn’t my old school’s fault; they gave everything that was requested. The problem is in the time and complexity of the credit evaluation here.
I’ve also heard from other students that even when you transfer from state to state, not all credits are accepted. That can mean lost time and money. And then, if I eventually transfer to a big university—maybe even in another city—costs will go up again. Transportation, housing, food, tuition; everything is more expensive. Universities like UW have costly meal plans and on-campus living, which would be a huge financial jump compared to community college.
Even though I’m not a parent, I think a lot about students who are. Back in Cambodia, it’s rare for someone to raise children and study at the same time—people judge them. Here at EvCC, I see something different. Some classmates bring their children to class. In my English 101 class, for example, one student brings his child almost every day. The child sits and draws or does small activities while the parent learns. It’s beautiful in one way, but it’s also clear how hard it is to focus when your child might need you at any moment.
To me, a truly family-friendly college is one that understands this. A place where students who are parents have support: flexible policies, safe spaces for children, and understanding from instructors. It’s especially important for single parents with no one else to help them. I’ve also seen how my own parents benefit from the college—they attend ESL classes and workshops, and sometimes I join them in those spaces. It feels good when a college welcomes not just the student, but their whole family.
Career advising is something I haven’t fully used yet. I’ve had some help with choosing classes, but not as much specific guidance about the computer science field or long-term career planning. I have heard about internships and some opportunities, and I’ve been told that after I graduate, there’ll be more support in finding jobs or internships. Still, I think a lot of students don’t know these services even exist. Programs like TRIO and MESA are great for low-income students, but you only find them if someone tells you. Otherwise, it’s easy to feel lost—especially when you’re new to the country and don’t know what to ask for.
Mental health has been a big part of my journey too, even if I haven’t used the official counseling services directly. My advisor has been a major support and also connects students to mental health resources. My first year here was extremely difficult. I missed my grandparents, especially my grandmother, who always gave me so much love. I stayed home a lot, cried almost every day, and felt like I wanted to go back to Cambodia. My parents were struggling too, trying to begin new jobs and stabilize our lives. At that time, I didn’t know where to go for help or what services existed.
Eventually, coming to school and pushing myself to look for resources helped me slowly come out of that dark place. I think it would make a huge difference if mental health information was clearly and frequently shared with new students. International students often get structured orientations and support from the international office. But students like me—who aren’t quite international in that same way, and not yet fully settled here—can slip through the cracks and end up trying to figure everything out alone.
When it comes to undocumented students, I don’t know all the details of the policies, but I’ve noticed who gets included and who doesn’t. I’ve heard that programs like TRIO and MESA mostly accept students who have green cards, which makes it harder for international or undocumented students to access those same opportunities. I work as a student ambassador, and many of my international peers also work on campus because they spend so much more on tuition, dorms, and fees. For undocumented students, though, work options are often blocked entirely.
I believe it would help a lot if students without legal status could also work on campus or receive stipends. Being able to earn some money while studying can ease the pressure to drop out or take on unstable jobs. Everyone should have at least some path to support themselves, especially when they are trying to get an education.
Data protection is another area where trust matters. For me, feeling safe and supported as an immigrant student means not being afraid to ask questions, seek help, or share what I need to share. On campus, I don’t feel judged for where I come from, and that’s something I really value. But when I applied for financial aid, they asked for a lot of information about me and my family—our income, where we live, details about my parents—and that made me nervous. I’ve always been told to be careful with things like Social Security numbers and personal data. Even though the system explains why it needs this information, it still feels like a risk.
Undocumented students, especially, are asked to share incredibly sensitive details about their lives. Stronger data protections—clear limits on who can see that information and how long it is stored—would make the process feel much safer. Right now, it can feel like we are giving everything about ourselves without fully knowing where it will go.
If I could name a few key barriers that often get overlooked, I would say transportation, food, and information. Free or reduced-cost transportation would relieve a lot of stress for students traveling long distances to campus. More consistent access to food programs, like gift cards or food pantry support, would make it easier to focus on learning instead of worrying about the next meal. And better communication from instructors and staff about all these programs in class—not just on posters or websites—would help students who are new, overwhelmed, or unsure where to start.
Even with all these challenges, I’m still here. I’m learning a new system in a new country, in a second language, pursuing a difficult major—and I’m doing it step by step. I don’t know exactly where I’ll end up yet, but I know what I’m working toward: a career in technology, the ability to support my family, and a future that feels bigger than the fears and barriers I started with.