Post-graduation college success should not only be defined by students’ starting salaries but by their ability to choose careers that allow them to honor their own sense of purpose. iStockPhoto // tadamichi
Career Choices at a Crossroads
“I’m like a safety net for my family,” Amanda told me, explaining her decision to accept a job at Amazon. Her voice weighed heavy with responsibility. An Asian first-generation college student from a low-income family, Amanda considered job factors beyond personal career ambitions. While uneasy about certain aspects of the company, she knew the job would be a lifeline for her family. Their current household income was just a quarter of her starting salary.
Stories like Amanda’s reflect the complex career decisions facing students at elite U.S. universities, where a narrow set of professional career pathways can seem predetermined. At Amanda’s highly selective private university and others in its category, landing a prestigious, high-paying role at a company like Goldman Sachs, McKinsey, or Google is commonly seen as the next rung on the ladder to success. But behind this pre-professional culture, students and faculty are raising important questions about the costs of pursuing these well-trodden pathways. What does career “success” really mean, especially for upwardly mobile, first-generation, low-income (FGLI) students?My recent Social Problems article explores these questions through in-depth interviews with 62 students attending “Eastwood” (a pseudonym), a highly selective private university in the United States. My sample included Asian, Black, and White students from first-generation, low-income (FGLI) and middle-class backgrounds. This diverse mix of students allowed me to examine how their racial and socioeconomic backgrounds shaped their career decisions.
At Eastwood, the majority of undergraduates pursue careers in finance, consulting, and tech. However, when I talked about these career pathways with my interviewees, I noticed that many responded using the term “selling out.” As I analyzed their responses to understand what they meant by this term, I found that the concerns they raised fell into two broad categories: “contingent objections” and “linked obligations.”Contingent Objections
When students talked about careers in finance, consulting, and tech, they raised two types of contingent objections, qualms with these careers based on noneconomic values. Regardless of their racial and class background, many students expressed different personal priorities, including concerns about work-life balance and personal fulfillment in these high-stakes careers. They feared the long hours and intense corporate culture would compromise their well-being.
Some students, especially those from FGLI backgrounds, also voiced contingent objections on ethical grounds. Mark, a White FGLI student, didn’t hesitate when I asked if he’d consider a job in these sectors. He immediately responded, “No, not at all. I think that corporate America gets away with a lot of exploitation, and I don’t think a lot of consulting careers are a net benefit in this world.” However, for FGLI students, these objections typically came with a significant cost: by rejecting work in these sectors, they risked sacrificing their future earning potential. While some FGLI students pursued these pathways as a fast track to upward mobility, many FGLI students rejected them on ethical grounds.
Linked Obligations
Some students’ career choices were influenced by what I call linked obligations—a deep sense of responsibility to others. Asian and Black students, regardless of class background, frequently expressed a duty to lift up their racial groups through their career decisions. FGLI Asian and Black students cited the additional goal of contributing financially to their families as a key factor driving their choices.Amanda’s account illustrates the emotional weight of these obligations. Although Amanda perceived Amazon’s profit-driven motives as problematic, she knew her family’s financial security depended on her. “I’m fully going into tech because I need to be stable and provide my family with that financial support,” she explained. Given the impact her salary could have on her family’s financial situation, she felt the sacrifice was necessary. “My mom, I know she’s not trying to pressure me,” Amanda said, “but after graduation, I’ll go home, and I’ll live with my family and pay the rent and help them financially.”
For students like Amanda, linked obligations meant sacrificing some personal values to meet family needs. These decisions reveal how career choices are not just about individual success—for some, they are deeply relational, shaped by students’ connections to their families and communities.
Redefining College Success Post-Graduation
As institutions like Eastwood celebrate First-Generation College Student Day on November 8th, it’s time to ask a deeper question: What does true support look like for FGLI students after they leave the classroom? My conversations with students underscore that supporting students like Mark and Amanda will require a broader definition of success.
The future of higher education lies not just in college access but in how well we equip students to align their career paths with their values—especially those who face additional pressures because of their racial and class backgrounds. Supporting students beyond graduation requires understanding the moral compasses they follow, which are often shaped by their obligations to family, community, and the broader world. When I asked students how the university could better support them, several mentioned providing stronger pathways for opportunities beyond the finance, consulting, and tech sectors instead of letting the major companies in these areas dictate the rules of the game. In the end, post-graduation college success should not be only defined by students’ starting salaries but by their ability to choose careers that allow them to honor their own sense of purpose. Higher education institutions need to rise to this challenge by transforming how we guide students toward their future selves.Joyce Kim is a graduate student in the Department of Sociology at the University of Pennsylvania. She studies inequality and mobility, focusing on culture, education, and work.
