By Maureen Linker
My journey from the wild, wacky streets of Brooklyn in the 1980s and 90s to the Administration Building at the University of Michigan-Dearborn in 2024 is a story of discovery, mentorship, and the transformative power of education. As a first-generation college student, my path was neither linear nor easy. It was paved with the sacrifices of my immigrant family, the strength of my mother who had seen it all and didn’t flinch, and the grit of my Brooklyn bar owning father, combined with the unwavering encouragement of mentors who saw potential in me even as I doubted myself along the way.
Growing up in a tight-knit working class neighborhood in Brooklyn, my life was anything but glamorous, but it was complex, loving, and in many ways, empowering. My grandparents had traveled across the Atlantic from Ireland and Germany with very little except the hopes for a better life. My father worked long hours as a produce manager at a local grocery store with the goal of one day buying a bar with his brother. They realized their dream when they opened up “The Lucky Buck” (a reference to the first dollar they saved for this enterprise) a neighborhood bar where truck drivers, secretaries, factory workers, and yes, whole families, could come for a cold one, a coke or a beer, a burger and shoot some pool or play the juke box. My mother meanwhile spent most days at home in our apartment raising me and my brothers, “six kids in five rooms” they always joked, where every piece of furniture seemed to pull out to a bed except, as my dad would say, “the toilet!” My parents’ aspirations for me were simple yet profound: yes they wanted me to have opportunities they never had but they also wanted me to retain the values of family, community, and humility. More than anything else they wanted me to watch out for the “phonies” the big talkers, the arrogant, self-centered people (as a kid that read as “rich” people) who lacked humor, intelligence, or empathy . Despite our financial constraints and some cultural barriers, my family instilled in me the importance of education, integrity, and hard work.
My academic journey began at Brooklyn College, one of the jewels in the City University of New York system. The federal grants I received were a lifeline, making higher education feasible for my family. At Brooklyn College, I found a community of like-minded individuals—many of whom were also first-generation students—each navigating the complexities of college life with a shared sense of purpose and camaraderie. There were students who had just graduated from Yeshiva, ready to argue points in class with gusto and good will. There were sons and daughters of Italian, Haitian, Greek, Polish, and Puerto Rican families and students whose families had been in Brooklyn for generations. There was art, music, poetry (Allan Ginsburg, one of the world’s most influential “Beat” poets was a professor of mine), science, history, politics, all buzzing around every building and at every table in the cafeteria. But most of all there was for me, philosophy.
My passion for philosophy was ignited in a classroom that was both diverse and intellectually stimulating. But it was Dr. Jonathan Adler, my first philosophy professor who was himself a first-generation college graduate, who changed the trajectory of my life. Dr. Adler recognized a potential in me for logical reasoning but most of all, he celebrated and valued my persistent interrogation of what makes life meaningful. He became an intellectual mentor, providing guidance, support, and the occasional tough love that I needed to thrive in my studies.
“Ms. Linker,” he once told me during office hours, “you have a mind that can contribute significantly to philosophical discourse. It just needs to be combined with a significant amount of self-discipline. Don’t let your doubts hold you back from doing either.” His words resonated deeply, and for the first time, I considered a future I had never deemed possible – a Ph.D. program.
Dr. Adler encouraged me to attend lectures and events at Columbia University and NYU, exposing me to rigorous academic environments beyond the confines of Brooklyn College. Although I often felt the grip of imposter syndrome, questioning my place among the ivy-covered walls and polished academics, these experiences broadened my horizons and sharpened my resolve. Eventually, when I framed an intelligent question during a Q&A session, or provided clarification during a public discussion, I felt no more scared than when I steadied myself in an argument with my four older brothers or stood up to some street bully in my Brooklyn neighborhood.
Despite the challenges, including the grind of working multiple part-time jobs to make ends meet, I completed my undergraduate degree with honors. With Dr. Adler’s guidance and letters of recommendation, I applied to several Ph.D. programs and was accepted to the City of New York Graduate Center, a nationally recognized philosophy program that offered full funding.
After years of study, teaching assignments, and countless hours in the library, I earned my doctorate in philosophy. My academic pursuits took me through various institutions, but it was the offer from the University of Michigan-Dearborn that felt like destiny.
The sense of familiarity and community I found among the many first-generation college student commuters at Dearborn reminded me of my own journey. Here, I saw reflections of my younger self—students brimming with potential but often doubting their place in academia. I was determined to make a significant impact by providing the same mentorship and encouragement that I had once received.
Today, I am now a “senior” professor and administrator at the University of Michigan-Dearborn. I have moved from the classroom to the administration building with the hope of “turning a bigger gear” toward the truly transformative power of education. I take so much pride in the mentoring of first-generation students I did in my more than 20 years in the classroom, guiding students through the maze of academia, and helping them navigate the complexities of their educational journeys.
My story really is a testament to the power of community, mentorship, and resilience. It’s a narrative that underscores the importance of institutional support systems like those provided by the City University of New York. My journey from Brooklyn to Dearborn is not just my own; it is a shared experience, one that I continue to honor by looking back and giving forward to the next generation of scholars.
