For this Ghanaian American headed to Stanford, supporting her community — even from afar — is her top priority

Kaylyn Noah smoothed her hand over a swatch of kente, a traditional Ghanaian woven fabric — with colorful stripes, blocks and zigzags.

“We call it a duku when you wrap it around your head,” said the 18-year-old from Green Valley Ranch in northeast Denver.

Kente is worn at weddings, ceremonies or after a child is born.

“We call them outdoorings. When we have a baby, we take them out into the world for the first time.”

Softly, Kaylyn said she just might pack the piece of cloth in her suitcase this week. She is going out into the world, alone, for the first time — to study at one of the most-prestigious colleges in the world.

Being among the first generation in your family to go to college takes courage, especially when you’re headed to Stanford University. But this week, Kaylyn’s thinking about a lot of things — not just how she’ll fare on a campus where many students are wealthy — and don’t look like her — or how she’ll handle the rigorous academics. More than anything, she’s focused on how she’ll manage life away from her tight-knit family and maintain connections with her Ghanaian culture.

“I try to keep my family and culture very close to me because, at the end of the day, that’s my identity. That’s who I am.”

A few years ago, landing an acceptance letter to Stanford seemed unimaginable. Her parents never went to college. They immigrated from Ghana. Her father works as a truck driver, and her mother holds down the fort at home. Kaylyn has two sisters. There’s not a lot of extra money floating around.

But the seeds of motivation and ambition sprouted early in Kaylyn.

“When I was little, I was going to go to Oxford University,” she laughed. “I was shooting really high for the stars.”

She said that she thinks she heard about Oxford on television.

Kaylyn became a voracious reader. Her mother, Joyce Parker, said that she knew that her daughter was going far after she won a competition in preschool after reading 250 books.

“And that’s where everything started going up and up and up, and she’s never stopped,” Parker said.

Kaylyn’s parents’ sacrifice of leaving home helped push her forward.

“I was like, of course, if you can’t do it, I’m going to do something for you. I’m going to show you that I’m thankful for coming to America so I can have a better life,” Parker said.

Parker said she will miss everything about her daughter — her greeting every morning in a British accent [“Mummy!”], her teasing. Some days, Parker can’t believe her good fortune.

“I believe in the American dream,” she said, sitting in the family room.

“Coming from nowhere to come to America, having these children and for them to go to these wonderful schools, I wanted that life. I didn’t get that life. I didn’t make room for myself to get that life. So, I’ve worked hard and asked God to help my children live the life that I wanted and that I didn’t get. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Parker said she is blessed to have three daughters who’ve done so well.

“These children are children of God.”

Hard work, talent and opportunities 

Kaylyn attended DSST school in Green Valley Ranch, which she said pushes you as far as you are capable. She tried out various science, math and engineering pathways.

“You could do anything at that school, honestly,” she said.

Kaylyn loves fashion and started a club where she and her classmates sketched, sewed and held clothing and food drives for those in need. Kaylyn got accepted into [HS]², a college access program for low-income students to spend five weeks three summers in a row in Carbondale, getting a jump start on science, technology and math.

Then, a mentor encouraged Kaylyn to apply to QuestBridge. It helps high-achieving, low-income students get into top universities. Kaylyn had her doubts. The school was already hard. How much further could she go? And then, there was the cost.

“I was afraid of that tuition bill, let’s be honest. It wasn’t realistic,” she said. “They are honestly really scary schools to apply to, like 3% acceptance rates, 4% acceptance rates. And when you compare yourself to other students, you’re like, there’s no way I can do this, especially as a woman of color, especially as someone low income, etc.”

But her support group at [HS]² — students like her struggling with the same things — helped her believe in herself. She went for it and got matched to Stanford with a full-ride scholarship.

First-year anxiety, eagerness

At Stanford, Kaylyn will start an exploratory science program before choosing a major: medicine, engineering or biotechnology.

 “I love finding solutions,” she said.

 She said young women of color must fill the gaps in male-dominated professions.

“You need to have that personal connection with whomever you’re serving as a doctor. If you’re not the same race as someone, for example, not to say you can’t connect with them, but it’s much easier when someone who looks like you has had the same experiences as you.”

Whatever she does, Kaylyn said, she wants to support her community.

She said she’s closer to her family than most. She said the hardest thing will be leaving her family and home, where religion and culture are important.

She asked her sister Kayla, 25, a college graduate, how she dealt with things when they got difficult.

“I think family was a big part of it,” Kayla said. “I would just go to mom and be like, ‘Hey, I’m kind of having a hard time.’ Just explain things to her, and she really encourages and prays for me.”

Kaylyn has more questions for her older sister.: “How did you deal with making new friends when you got to college?”

Kayla advised joining many clubs and career fairs, going to a lunch hall and sitting at a random table.

“Some people are just like, ‘Hey, you want to come sit with us?’ You really have to just put yourself out there.” 

Kaylyn said it’s a little bit terrifying.

“Especially coming from a community where a lot more people look like me, moving to somewhere like that is intimidating because I don’t know how they’re going to react to me being in the same spaces as them.”

Kaylyn told her sister she’s ready to take on the challenge.

“But I know it’s going to be super difficult.”

“We’ll always be here whether it’s in person or through the phone,” her sister said.

‘I’m bringing you home now’

On the Sunday before leaving for Stanford, Kaylyn attended church, the Gospel Light Assembly Of God, tucked into a building on Parker Road. Her mom was in the front row. Her dad was working.

But Kaylyn was in the back, running the audio for the pastor and livestreaming the service. She said she loves doing that.

“Especially when it’s hectic and something goes wrong — of course, that’s not a good thing — but I like the pressure and the challenge,” she said.

The service was in English and Twi, one of Ghana’s many languages. Some men were in suits, ties and bowler hats; the women were in fine, Sunday dresses. 

There was singing, dancing, clapping, weeping, praying, a spiritual rise and fall.

Whenever there was a pause from working the sound system, Kaylyn slipped her hands into her sisters’ hands — the oldest on one side, the youngest on the other. It was her last Sunday service in Denver for a while.

The pastor, Rev. Seth Aidoo, called Kaylyn up to the front of the church. He told the congregation about her full-ride scholarship to study STEM.

Everyone cheered. 

“You’ve made this whole house proud,” he said. “You’ve made this community proud. You are going there to make us proud. And know that we are with you all the way through … Make this grace rest on you now.”

“I am so proud of you,” a woman shouted from the congregation.   

Kaylyn was akin to everyone’s daughter, everyone’s hope.

The congregation sang and prayed for Kaylyn, who smiled shyly while her long, white braids tumbled down a white, flowered dress. Then, Aidoo’s voice quieted. He asked Kaylyn to kneel in front of the congregation. He placed his hand on her head for a blessing.

Kaylyn’s mom closed her eyes and covered them with her hands, overwhelmed.

Aidoo’s voice built like a wave. He spoke in tongues. Then, Twi and English until it rose to a crescendo of prophetic cries.

“In the name of Jesus, academically, over your life, you shall excel. You will never fail. You will never fail. You will never fail. You will never fail. You will never fail.”

Tears fell down Kaylyn’s cheeks. 

“I declare you blessed, and so shall it be,” Aidoo said.

Kaylyn wouldn’t be making this journey alone. She took the microphone and talked through tears.

“You guys raised me,” she told the congregation. “You made me the woman I am today. Thank you for helping [me] through my journey, and I promise you guys, I’ll make you proud. Amen.”

“Amen,” the congregation responded.

Kaylyn quietly exited the room and entered the hallway to wipe away tears. A few minutes later, her two sisters came to check up on her.

“It’s just, I’ve never felt that much love before,” she said. “You forget sometimes that people care about you this much. But having them cheer for me, pray for me and be genuinely so proud of me, it reminded me that I have people here that I can come back to anytime.”

Kaylyn begins classes at Stanford next week.

An earlier version of this story appears on CPR.