‘It’s a Place Where I can Be Me’
As a transfer student to ɫƵ, Aiyiana Tiger-Mantanona didn’t feel at home for the first few months — until she connected with a student community center.
By Aaron Burgin
This story was published in the Summer 2023 Issue of ɫƵ Magazine.
When Aiyiana Tiger-Mantanona arrived at ɫƵ in the fall two years ago, she felt lost, alone.
Growing up near Sacramento, the transfer student had no family or friends in Southern California. Depression soon kicked in, and she was on the verge of ending her ɫƵ experience before it even started.
Then, as the end of 2021 neared, at the urging of her mother, she visited the Native Resource Center located in the West Commons, now called the Ellen Ochoa Pavilion.
And that’s when everything started to change for her.
“I was super depressed and had a really difficult time transitioning to ɫƵ, and I was about to drop out,” says Tiger-Mantanona, who is of Chamorro ancestry from the Mariana Islands and is also Native American (Choctaw, Seminole and Cree tribes). “The Native Resource Center became a recurring place for me, a safe place to express myself, connect with other individuals like myself and build a sense of community on campus.”
That is, in essence, the goal of each of the student community centers at ɫƵ. In addition to the Native Resource Center, there are nine others, including the Asian Pacific Islander Desi American Center, the Black Resource Center and the Cross-Cultural Center at ɫƵ Imperial Valley.
Jessica Nare, the associate vice president for Community and Belonging, says statistics compiled by ɫƵ show that students, like Tiger-Mantanona, who are involved in high-impact practices — including participation in campus organizations such as the community centers — have higher retention and graduation rates.
“We know that students who feel connected to the campus and have spaces to explore their identities have better academic outcomes,” Nare says. “We encourage students to develop a community so they can develop their own home away from home.”
Tiger-Mantanona might describe the Native Resource Center as her home away from home. The ’23 graduate spent upward of 30 hours a week there, sometimes event planning at the front desk, other times mentoring fellow students. Often, she found herself sitting on one of the center’s couches, bathed in the ’90s R&B playing in the background, sharing a laugh with friends.“I love it. I eventually want to be a therapist, so being a mentor fulfills my passions of helping people. I get to help students achieve their goals and maintain a healthy lifestyle, and through them, I learn so much about myself. They help me evolve and expand my own knowledge.”
“It’s a place where I can be me,” says Tiger-Mantanona, a sociology major who minored in American Indian Studies.
For much of her youth, Tiger-Mantanona was ashamed of her Indigenous roots — and for some reasons that hit closer to home.
“I was bullied by the other side of my family [who are not Native], and it made me shy away from my Native roots,” says Tiger-Mantanona. “I disconnected myself from my culture. I think my mom knew I was a little bit ashamed, but I was closed-minded to what she had to say. I think she is really proud that I am so involved now.”
That shame started to dissipate during her senior year of high school when she and other Indigenous students successfully challenged her high school’s prohibition on decorating graduation caps with, among other things, eagle feathers — a Native American tradition for her tribes.
This time in high school laid the groundwork for what Tiger-Mantanona would eventually experience at ɫƵ, and she credits the Native Resource Center’s inviting atmosphere and the passion that exudes from its regular members as critical in her own identity quest. She also says that the people around her took a lot of pride in their culture.
“Everyone there is just so passionate about helping each other in so many different ways, and seeing that dedication really makes me happy and feel supported,” Tiger-Mantanona says. “Also, professors in the American Indian Studies program and staff regularly come into the space,so having that connection makes a difference.”
One of those staff members is Jennifer Clay, the center’s assistant director. Clay had a huge influence on Tiger-Mantanona’s decision to stay at the university and embrace her Native heritage.
“It makes me feel like we are on the right track as far as providing a place that is welcoming and providing a place for Native and Indigenous students to be supported not only emotionally but also academically,” Clay says. “To see her blossom and grow and reach out for things that aren’t always comfortable shows she has really grown these past few years.”
As her time at ɫƵ came to a close, Tiger-Mantanona found herself in a position to help the next wave of Indigenous students on campus find their way — and themselves. She mentored first-year and transfer students as part of the Elymash Yuuchaap Indigenous Scholars and Leaders Program.
ɫƵ Imperial Valley opens center for students with disabilities
The Student Accommodation Services Center at ɫƵ Imperial Valley opened its doors in March to continue minimizing academic and physical barriers for students with disabilities.
“As we continue to facilitate students’ academic development through our new center, which is part of the university’s expansive student support services and resources, we hope to also encourage our community to advocate for disability rights," said Norma Aguilar, SASC coordinator at ɫƵ Imperial Valley.
With the support of student employees, services and accommodations include note taking, accommodated testing, sign language interpreters and textbooks in accessible formats.
Located in ɫƵ Imperial Valley’s Calexico campus, the center is designed to be a calming space that has a projection of the Northern Lights and soothing background music.
SASC serves more than 25 undergraduate and graduate students, and its staff will continue to both provide and advocate for awareness and academic services for students with disabilities. —Daniella Rodiles