Friday morning, two weeks ago, I was at the Washington Association of Community and Technical Colleges (WACTC) presidents’ meeting, balancing a plate of breakfast food, when I noticed an open seat next to Sen. Drew Hansen. With a mix of nerves and excitement, I decided to sit down beside him. I wasn’t sure how to start a conversation with a lawmaker before 9 a.m., but Sen. Hansen greeted me with a warm smile and simple “Good morning, how are you?” At that moment, it felt less like a formal meeting and more like two people chatting over breakfast. Little did I know that casual chat would become one of the most memorable and meaningful conversations of my college journey.
As we talked over breakfast and coffee, our titles of “student” and “senator” faded
into the background. I shared my story of immigrating to the US from Vietnam and how
I juggle my South Puget Sound Community College classes with a part-time job. He nodded
as he listened, asking thoughtful follow-up questions. The conversation flowed naturally,
from the challenges of navigating the US education system to the excitement I felt
when I passed a tough math class. In that informal setting, I could tell he was genuinely
listening. I realized how much easier it was to convey the reality of being a student
when we were just talking like two regular people than it is during testimony or a
15-minute meeting in office. By the end of breakfast, I felt like I had given him
a window into student life that no statistic or committee hearing could ever fully
capture.
That morning taught me a powerful lesson about open communication. We often imagine that talking to a legislator is intimidating or that we have to use perfect words and formal speeches to be heard. But here I was, a first-generation immigrant student, having an honest heart-to-heart with a state senator in a casual setting. It helps me realize that conversations like these are exactly how we bridge the gap between policy decisions and student experiences. When lawmakers hear directly from students beyond the data charts and funding reports, they get to understand the human side of the policies they create. A simple conversation can put a face and a story to the issues, reminding both of us that we’re working toward the same goal: helping students succeed.
I often reflect on how much the community and technical college system has supported me on my journey. As a first-generation, low-income student, I found opportunity and support at my community college that I never imagined possible. My college gave me mentors who believed in me, resources that helped me thrive, and the confidence to share my story. It’s the reason I became a legislative intern with the State Board for Community and Technical Colleges.
To my fellow students: don’t be hesitant about reaching out or speaking up. Whether it’s chatting with a senator at an event, sharing your story at a town hall meeting, or even sending an email about an issue you care about, your experiences matter. I walked away from my conversation with Sen. Hansen inspired and hopeful, knowing that our stories can shape better decisions. If a simple conversation over breakfast can help bridge the gap between policy and practice, imagine what your story can do.
