Last week, I finished my second year at Georgetown. As much as I wish I could provide some eloquent update about how, despite the obstacles created by COVID-19, I made the most of this semester and learned a lot, that simply isn’t the case. The reality is I’m tired. I’m really tired. I’m tired because I’ve spent every day for the past two months thinking about the fact that Georgetown doesn’t seem to consider me, a first-generation student, valuable.