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Agnes Armstrong had to make a choice.

She was applying to become a citizen of the United States and, on the day she was scheduled to sit for an interview in Philadelphia, she was also due to be in class at С����Ƶ, where she was an 18-year-old freshman living away from home for the first time.

Armstrong grew up in New Jersey with her mother and siblings, but she is originally from Ghana in West Africa. The family moved to the U.S. when she was 6 after winning a visa lottery. Her father, who continues to live and work in Ghana to support his family, visits on major holidays and summers.

Navigating the application process last year to become a citizen came on top of the other, more routine social, academic and emotional pressures first-year students face. “It is such a grilling, tedious process,” says Armstrong, now a sophomore, of applying to become a citizen. “It was starting to affect my school work, as well as take a financial toll.”

Armstrong is one of more than 1,000 first-generation students currently pursuing a degree at Rider. About a quarter of all current Rider students come from families where neither parent attained a college degree. Like her, many face challenges unique to their personal situations. Last year, Armstrong wound up missing class not once but twice as she strove to meet the requirements for her application. According to data collected by Rider from first-generation students, they in general have fewer financial resources than the majority of students. Some arrive on campus from foster care or in a state of homelessness. Others face greater-than-average hurdles in understanding college culture — its policies, protocols and terminology — often as a result of parents with limited personal exposure to college life. Without strong parental influence, first-generation students can be left to their own devices to find their way to a degree without a knowledgeable advocate.

“Going to college can be like going to a foreign country,” says Dana Lopes ’97, ’00, assistant director of Rider’s Student Support Services Program, which provides academic support designed to increase the performance, retention and graduation rates of primarily first-generation college students. “Students may make mistakes or not do something they need to do because they lack the knowledge. For many, there’s no conversation in their household about what college is like.”

When it came time to apply to college, Armstrong says she felt “disadvantaged” compared to many of her peers. Listening to them make grand plans for an education and a career, she knew she would need additional help and guidance beyond her parents. “I didn’t have as much parental support as my peers simply because they were unfamiliar with the system,” she says. “I relied heavily upon the counselors, but it was a frustrating process. Because I only retain permanent residency and am not a citizen, there’s a lot more paperwork. Many scholarships are only available to citizens.”

The Student Support Services Program, commonly known as SSS, has been operating at Rider since 1993. It provides orientation activities, workshops and resources to help students transition to Rider and integrate into the University community. “The program is about helping students and helping their parents,” says Queen Jones, the program’s director who is a first-generation student herself. “We spend time educating them about the culture and what’s expected of them.”

Nationally, the program is celebrating its 50th anniversary. It began in 1968 through the reauthorization of the Higher Education Act, which President Lyndon Johnson originally signed into law in 1965 as part of his Great Society agenda. The Act laid out the federal government’s major student aid programs that directly support student pursuit of postsecondary education. In his remarks upon signing the original bill, Johnson said, “Tell (your children and grandchildren) that we have opened the road and we have pulled the gates down and the way is open, and we expect them to travel it.” SSS is one of eight federal cluster of programs known as TRIO.

Collectively, they are designed to help the disadvantaged prepare for and complete a college education. (The name TRIO refers to the original three programs included in the legislation.) Overall, the programs are primarily designed to assist low-income, first-generation students, but they also serve the homeless, veterans, individuals with disabilities and those who are underrepresented in graduate education. In addition to SSS, Rider participates in one other TRIO program, the Ronald E. McNair Post-Baccalaureate Achievement program.

Thousands of students have benefited from Rider’s partnerships with the programs. Manuel Mayorga, a senior majoring in human resources and management and leadership, is the son of Guatemalan immigrants and a first-generation college student. He commutes to Lawrenceville from his home in Trenton, N.J., where he attended a charter school before enrolling at Rider. “Coming in, I didn’t know anything,” Mayorga says. “It would have been challenging and so much harder to find answers to my questions without SSS.”

Steven Santos ’17, on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted out of college. Even as a freshman in high school, he was already keeping a list of colleges across the country he wanted to visit. Because of medical issues within his family, including a rare genetic disease suffered by his younger brother, Santos decided to stay close to home in Jackson, N.J., and attend Rider — the first in his family to pursue a four-year bachelor’s degree.

He enrolled as a neuroscience major, envisioning a career in cancer research. When he decided to switch to psychology, he was required as part of SSS to meet with Lopes to discuss his reasoning and motivation. Today, Santos is pursuing his master’s in counseling services at Rider and working as a graduate assistant with Auxiliary Services, looking forward to a career helping young people.

“It was personal,” Santos says of SSS. “They paid attention to who I was, and they helped me probably more than I recognize. Now that I’ve graduated, I still feel like they would help me if I reached out.”

Each student interviewed for this article expressed feeling a level of support from the SSS staff that was deeper, more meaningful and even comforting than traditional advising or most student-faculty interaction. Their descriptions sound like they are talking about family more than administrators. Referring to Lopes, Mayorga says, “She doesn’t just help with school situations — she can help in any situation.”

Armstrong describes Lopes as a combination of life adviser and school mom. Rider students who receive assistance through SSS are not conditionally admitted to the University; they’re admitted like any other student and then, if they’re interested, voluntarily apply to the program. However, while they’re held to the same admissions standards, it’s not uncommon for first-generation students to experience a gap between their high school academic preparation and what’s expected of them in the college classroom, according to data collected by Rider.

SSS helps them close that gap through extra attention and support, decreasing the risk of students leaving Rider without completing their bachelor’s degree. “We can almost guarantee that if a student comes in and participates fully, he or she will do well,” Jones says. “It’s amazing to see the changes that take place between when they walk in as freshmen and then when they leave as seniors.”

In other cases, the academic difficulties that first-generation students face aren’t much different than the majority of students. As a high school student, for example, Rita Gillcrease ’15 excelled in ways that previewed her future accomplishments. She says that when she was growing up, going to college was a foregone conclusion, despite the fact that neither of her parents had attained a degree. “It wasn’t even up for debate,” she says. “That was always the next step.” She played three sports and was actively involved in student groups and organizations in high school, including student government and the marching band. She graduated as an honor student.

“You can be a good high school student, but in college, the effort that is required is increased,” Gillcrease says. At Rider, she appeared in 97 games and made 47 starts for the women’s basketball team. She graduated with a bachelor’s in international business and then played professional basketball overseas in Ireland while earning a master’s in international human rights from the National University of Ireland Galway. Today, she is the assistant coach of Rider’s women’s basketball team.

When Armstrong was younger, she contended with parents who were very strict when it came to her schooling. “My only job was to get good grades,” she says. “I was in every club. I didn’t get into trouble.” Such discipline had an effect on her. In fact, for a time she wanted to grow up to become president of the United States. “But then my mom told me I can’t because I’m an immigrant,” she says.

During her college search, Rider offered Armstrong a level of safety and comfort because it was close to her home in Willingboro, N.J., as well as a strong academic program in her major, biochemistry. It also granted her a generous scholarship.

The Office of Financial Aid often refers potential SSS applicants to Jones. Despite that, “Some students come to us and tell us they’re not aware of the program,” says Lopes, a first-generation student who worked two jobs through college. “If I had someone to give me that information, I would have been in a better place. I always think about that. Those who do join, love it. They see that this is going to be another tool to make them successful.”

Since 1965, the legislation that authorizes the financial support for the TRIO programs has been amended, extended and reauthorized many times. However, the gaps between reauthorization, which gives lawmakers the chance to review and change the bill, have grown longer over time.

Through 1980, it typically took lawmakers four years to reauthorize the Act. Since then, it has been reauthorized only four times, or once every nine and a half years.

The legislation was reauthorized most recently in 2008 under the Higher Education Opportunity Act. In December 2017, a bill was introduced in the House called the PROSPER Act that proposes reforms to TRIO, such as a matching requirement for the institution receiving federal dollars and an eligibility limit for institutions that offer similar programs. “They are saying universities can only have one equal opportunity program,” Jones says. “That would mean fewer people would be here to help these students succeed.”

Every five years, Rider’s SSS staff participates in a rigorous competition to regain funding for Rider’s SSS and McNair programs. They write and submit comprehensive proposals in accordance with federal guidelines. Students, staff and alumni travel to Washington, D.C., to make their case to lawmakers and assist the Council for Opportunity in Education, a nonprofit, in its mission to help students who benefit from programs like TRIO have access to a college education.

“The impact these efforts have had help us keep our funding going and we’re very thankful,” Jones says. “When I started working with this population, it seemed this program would never last, but I’ve been in higher education now for 30 years.”

In her office in the Vona Annex, next to Daly Dining Hall on the Campus Mall, Jones keeps a sheet handy that lists famous first-generation students who benefited from TRIO programs, such as actress Viola Davis, astronaut Franklin Chang-Diaz and athlete A. C. Green of the Los Angeles Lakers.

“I think this country needs all of its people to remain competitive,” Jones says. “If we don’t build this growing population, the U.S. is going to miss out. These students are bright kids who become our senators and our scientists. They have a lot going on in their heads and all they need is a little help.”

In life, accomplishment is usually, if not always, accompanied by a certain level of pride. Students who have attained, or are pursuing, their family’s first college degree can be particularly conscious of their achievement and its consequences, as well as the example it sets for their loved ones.

When Gillcrease returns home to visit her family, she is reminded of how much her education means to her mother and father. Four years after receiving her diploma at Commencement, the gown she wore on that day continues to hang on display in her family’s home, alongside her diploma.

Since Armstrong moved to the U.S., she has seen the lottery visa that her family was fortunate to receive canceled, snuffing opportunities for other African families to benefit from moving to the U.S.

“Knowing there are other Ghanaian families out there who won’t have the chances I’ve had makes me want to take advantage of every opportunity in my life,” she says. That sense of obligation exists close to her heart, too. “I have little sisters who are watching me,” Armstrong says. “I have to set a path they can follow.”