Last Monday I experienced my first real moment when I knew that I was helping an IHAD student with more than just their homework. I know, the semester was almost over, and maybe it sounds bad that I only had one, but I don't know if the average person gets to see the impact of their volunteering actions very often, so this was a big deal for me. I'd just finished up with working on the FOIL method- first, outside, inside, last- god I hate math with a 7th grade girl. Normally this is the point when I start small talk for a few minutes before they say, "Thank you for your help today" and either go upstairs to play games or start on their way home. Instead, the girl asked me, "You go to college right?" I told her I did, that I went to UNC Asheville that was just a few minutes down the road. She mulled that information over and then leaned in closer like she had a deep dark confession to make.

She all-but whispered to me that she felt bad because she didn't really want to go to college. She said all of her IHAD friends wanted to, and she knew she was supposed to want to since that was the point of all of the tutoring she'd had. I have to admit, this threw me for a loop. Why would she not want to go to college? It would be free, she would make her parents proud, and she'd probably be way more financially successful in the future. Being careful to keep my face blank, I asked her why she didn't want to go to college.

"It's dumb, " she told me, "but I would rather be a fashion designer." She went on to tell me her mother and her always bonded over making her clothes together, and though she never felt happy taking tests or memorizing facts, she loved every minute of designing and making clothes.

"Then that's what you should do," I told her. And for the first time, I realize how true that is. Just because the traditional college route is available to her doesn't mean that college is her best option. Yes, when i think of success I measure it in how much money a person makes, the stability in their life, and whether they have a family and a home. However, maybe I can use that measurement for my life, but I can't apply that standard to everyone when determining success. I found a college major I loved, and am pursuing a career that pays well and is so enjoyable that it could not be any more perfect for me. Perhaps not everyone would feel that way about working for a marketing firm, but I'm excited. It just so happens that the career I've always wanted to do involved attending college.

We talked for a while about the fact that several schools do offer fashion design courses, and even majors, but I emphasized the fact that college is not a necessary factor for a happy life. I assured her she shouldn't feel guilty for being in IHAD with no plans for college. IHAD's mission is to motivate and empower children from low-income communities to reach their education and career goals by providing a long-term program of mentoring, tutoring and enrichment and tuition assistance for higher education.

If her goals and dreams don't involve college, that's fine. IHAD just gives her the opportunities she needs to find out what she wants to do. Support from her community, IHAD volunteers, parents and teachers should all be working together to make sure she knows her dreams are valid, and it is not a waste of anyone's time to help her achieve those dreams. In fact, she has been done an injustice if no one in her community or school ever told her that her dream was worthwhile. Schools and afterschool programs could look for ways to integrate creative learning and offer alternative courses so that they can give her many opportunities to achieve her dream. Facts and numbers for standardized tests aren't what are going to make all children feel successful and happy.

Our conversation was my best IHAD volunteer moment. I felt like an actual role model, not because I was a college student, but because I was a person who had gone through her age and the insecurities that go with it, was young enough to remember, and was able to reassure her that she should keep doing things she should enjoy. When our conversation was over she was smiling again and looked extremely relieved. She could open up to me and trusted what I had to tell her. That was the first time in quite a while I've felt like I was needed and helpful when I volunteered.

Our conversation wasn't only filled with new ideas for her. It helped me realize that I have some inbred stereotypes I didn't even know about telling me what constitutes "success" and what avenues one should take to get there. It took reassuring a middle schooler that her dream was just as important as any doctor's, and not a waste of anyone's time, before I, a 22-year-old could come to that same realization myself.

It might have taken me a while, but this semester's IHAD volunteering has opened me up to new ideas on education, success, race and class. I was not only impacted, but hopefully impacted the lives of others as well. My IHAD volunteering and class discussions have been, for me, the true definition of success.