Trick and treats for 50K
How the promise of a better future is destroying today’s students’ mental health
$45,602.
That was the price tag attached to my USC acceptance letter, and while a home foreclosure darkened my family’s future, they encouraged me to accept. My father, the man who’d taxied in the slums of Peru because he couldn’t afford a college education, promised me “Ella que estudia, triunfa,” meaning “She who studies, triumphs.” Ambitious and naïve, I accepted USC and their price tag.
Like most other college students, I figured if I could take advantage of all USC had to offer and get my money’s worth from that five-figure tuition cost. So while freshmen year swept by me in a blur, I remember sitting in the front row of guest speaker events, I remember attending networking events on topics I couldn’t care less about and I remember constantly and helplessly craving for my bed every hour I was awake.
But that was the college norm, and I wasn’t alone. I learned that bragging about all-nighters was encouraged, Adderall was easier to get than actual meat at EVK and a ridiculous pile of finals, papers and projects was a common university courtesy. Our freshmen class was like an assemblage of trapped fish, forced to live in a shrinking pond in the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles for the next four years.
Now, as a sophomore, I hold one major, three minors, a resume with three jobs, five internships, and a rich amount of participation in university events. These numbers have become more important than my own USC ID. I’ve learned to strategically distribute them during networking events and professional career conversations, all so I could appear bright, polished and ambitious.
Almost like a dog repeating tricks when given a treat. I can now flawlessly recite my lines even while I can’t remember the last day I slept for more than four hours.
So here’s the real treat:
The fear associated with seeking help is alive. The ADAA reports nearly 75% of those affected by an anxiety disorder will experience their first episode before the age of 22.
The shame associated with seeking help is real. 35% of college students reported experiencing some level of depression in 2013, but 40% did not seek help.
And the guilt associated with seeking a break while at the most vulnerable age of your life is real. One out of four college students on campus right now have a diagnosable mental illness.
Numbers like those often times seem cold, robotic and forgettable if they are not contextualized. Even though it’s difficult to imagine a college student who has to choose between completing his paper and stopping a panic attack by taking anxiety medication that makes him drowsy, it is the college reality.
Less than a year and a half ago when I toured the USC Campus, I knew I had to check out the most social party dorms, the dining halls with the best food and the infamous Greek Row, but I never thought to peek inside the Health Center.
From my first day in college, I had been in a fight against time. Unfortunately, I didn’t know it was an altered version of the rat race that had delivered my parents’ foreclosure. I never connected how the pressure of a mounting tuition cost against my back could influence unhealthy living habits, not just at USC but also at other “prestigious” universities.
Last night while my cinema major friend and I walked out of class after being demolished by our film final, I asked, “What are you taking next semester?” Without skipping a beat, he rambled: “Oh, you know LSD, Xanax, Adderall, etc.” His casual tone made us both laugh, and although he was joking, I couldn’t shake the comment from my mind later that night.
With finals revealing their hideous heads from their hiding places, a drug cocktail like that isn’t as improbable for college students trying to make the most out of their college tuition.
While colleges’ tuition continues to climb, and college students’ mental health continues to weaken, I truly wonder if a university like USC can reach its’ institutional potential, even after it has robbed its’ student body of theirs.