Walking across the graduation stage at Harvard with my son in my arms was one of the most profound moments of my life. It was not just a personal triumph; it symbolized the possibility of thriving as both a scholar and a parent. Harvard Graduate School of Education allowed and even celebrated that moment. In that instant, I felt seen.
However, behind that moment was a year of near-constant juggling. Even in a relatively supportive environment, I struggled to manage my coursework, find reliable childcare, and carry the emotional weight of feeling like I was never fully present for my son. The infrastructure simply was not built with student-parents in mind. I was grateful, but also exhausted. And I knew that my experience, privileged in many ways, was far from typical.
Now consider the experience of Jean Paul Al Arab at the University at Buffalo. During his commencement ceremony, Al Arab tried to fulfill a promise to carry his six-month-old son across the stage. Although he had previously received permission, he was told just before the event that he could not bring his child with him. He decided to do it anyway. As he walked across the stage holding his son, university police pursued him in front of the audience. The video of the incident quickly went viral, igniting national debate.
Al Arab’s story is not only about a disrupted graduation ceremony. It reveals a broader truth about how unprepared many universities are to support student-parents. The message was unmistakable: parenthood is not welcome here.
And yet, it should be.
Across the country, thousands of student-parents are pursuing degrees while raising children. They face enormous challenges, often with little recognition or institutional support. Inflexible academic schedules, a lack of affordable childcare, and limited financial aid that takes dependents into account can make success feel out of reach.
A 2024 report from Inside Higher Ed emphasized that student-parents are significantly more likely to leave college or take extended breaks due to the absence of essential resources. When institutions fail to acknowledge the realities of parenting, they send a harmful message that family life is incompatible with academic achievement.
Failing to support student-parents is not just a logistical oversight — it’s an equity issue. The majority of parenting students are women (74 percent), and most are students of color (55 percent), making them disproportionately affected by the lack of institutional support. On average, student-parents are also older — around 35 years old compared to 23 for their nonparenting peers, which often means they are balancing academic demands alongside full-time work, caregiving, and financial responsibilities. When universities fail to provide affordable childcare, flexible course scheduling, or financial aid that reflects the realities of raising a family, they are effectively pushing out students who already face compounded systemic barriers. Supporting student-parents isn’t just about individual success stories. It’s about ensuring that higher education is accessible and just for the communities it claims to serve.
The difference between my experience and Jean Paul Al Arab’s is striking. Yet both experiences point to the same need for systemic change. No parent should have to choose between celebrating a major milestone with their child and being removed for doing so. No student should feel they must hide their identity as a parent in order to succeed.