Diego Puga Escobar is a communications senior. The opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect those of Mustang Media Group.
I first stepped onto Cal Poly’s campus during my senior year spring break through PolyCultural Weekend. I spent the week before staying with a friend in Poly Canyon Village, the same friend who ultimately motivated me to attend Cal Poly. I remember wearing bright neon green Crocs and carrying the same backpack I had since middle school (that I still wear to this day). At the time, college still felt distant to me: not impossible, but unfamiliar.
The first night of PolyCultural Weekend, I sat front row listening to astronaut Victor Glover speak about opportunity and possibility. I remember conversations centered around belonging, diversity and finding your place at Cal Poly. By the end of that same night, I had been removed from the weekend and left terrified that my admission to the university could be revoked entirely.
Looking back now, the moment feels strangely symbolic of my relationship with Cal Poly as a whole. The university represented opportunity, but also uncertainty. Belonging never felt automatic, so I had to work to find my way.
I returned a few months later for SLO Days and eventually Quarter Plus before my freshman year officially began. My transition into college never really looked the way people often describe it.
I never had the traditional move-in day experience. By the time fall quarter started, I had already lived in the dorms, explored campus and built a social circle. Week of Welcome felt almost secondary to me. While other students were attending events and navigating campus for the first time, I was going to parties, joining Central Pacific Ski Club and spending time with people I had already met through Quarter Plus. I thought I had already figured out what belonging looked like.
Quarter Plus was overwhelmingly white. I think there were only a few Hispanic students, including my roommate and myself. Attending a historically predominantly white institution was not necessarily shocking to me, but it was noticeable.
Over time, I realized that belonging and community were much more complicated than I had originally thought. Some of my closest friendships came from people completely outside my cultural background. Freshman year friendships often formed out of convenience and proximity, but the friendships that lasted were with those who intentionally continued to show up for one another. Community became less about finding people exactly like me and more about finding people willing to understand one another while respecting their differences.
As a first-generation student from Salinas, attending college represented movement. My parents left Mexico searching for stability and opportunity. My mother left home unsure when — or even if — she would return. Although I do not think my college experience directly mirrors my parents’ migration story, I now recognize reflections of it. My father left familiarity in search of opportunity, and years later I found myself leaving home for a university that once felt unreachable.
Even the contrast between Salinas and San Luis Obispo taught me something. Both communities are deeply tied to agriculture, yet the relationship to that labor often feels different. Growing up in Salinas, I saw the people working in the fields before sunrise. In San Luis Obispo, I began seeing the offices, institutions and systems connected to that same labor. The two communities often felt worlds apart while still depending on one another.
I have always been talkative. Whenever I tell people I am a communication studies major, the response is usually, “Yeah, that makes sense.” Communication, however, became much more than simply talking during my time at Cal Poly. Through speech and debate, working at KCPR and becoming involved in orientation programs focused on equity and belonging, I began understanding communication as a way to create connection and visibility. Being on the radio and literally putting my voice on campus airwaves felt meaningful to me. I was able to bring music that resonated with me while serving the larger community around me.
Language also became one of the clearest forms of belonging I experienced at Cal Poly. Hearing Spanish spoken openly on campus always felt beautiful to me. It felt familiar. It felt like connection.
That feeling became even more meaningful through my work with the Spanish Supporter Track during orientation. I intentionally avoid calling it a translation track because it represents something much deeper than direct translation. Hispanic families are often deeply interconnected. I speak with my mother every day. Family involvement does not simply disappear once students leave home.
During orientation, I watched parents visibly become more comfortable once information was provided in a language they fully understood. I realized then this was not something my own parents had been given access to while navigating educational systems themselves.
Belonging goes beyond acceptance letters and admissions statistics. It is also about hearing your language spoken, seeing people who look like you in positions of leadership and feeling like your presence matters in the spaces you occupy.
As graduation approaches, I realize my time at Cal Poly was never just about earning a degree. It was about learning how to navigate unfamiliar spaces while still carrying my culture, family and identity with me. I arrived at Cal Poly unsure where I would fit. Four years later, I find meaning in helping make those spaces feel more accessible for others.
I will be the first in my family to graduate from a four-year university. That reality means a lot to me, but even more than that, I hope the path becomes a little less unfamiliar for those who come after me.
Life is about experiencing it. Making mistakes, learning from them and continuing to grow. Looking back now, I realize college did not just teach me how to communicate with others. It taught me how to better understand myself and the spaces I hope to help create for the people who come after me.
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