The cost of an education.
I showed up for my first day at Columbia Law School with a credit card and a pen to sign student loan documents.
I made it through undergrad on a combination of need-based scholarships, a little help from my folks, and two or three jobs every semester. But when I decided I wanted to go to law school, I didn’t have a choice. I took out the loans, knowing that when I graduated I would work as hard as I could to pay them off and pay back the cost of my education.
My loans numbered over a hundred thousand dollars, and they were a part of defining the next decade of my life.
Every financial decision I made was done in the context of my debt. When I moved home to Montana, I couldn’t afford to take a job in the private sector because the proportion of debt I’d be paying relative to my income was too high to live. I began working in public service, where I could qualify for a loan-reduction package.
When I married Lisa a few years later, the load I carried moved to her shoulders as well. To this day, I’ll never forget making our last payment.
The next generation of Americans, my kids and their classmates, must be able to pursue an education and their American dream with the same faith in their future opportunity that I was able to have.
Student loan debt in our country reached $1.5 trillion last year, surpassing the total credit card debt for the first time. One in six graduates have debt that exceeds their income, and the burden of student debt falls disproportionately on women. With the price of education skyrocketing since I went to school, it’s nearly impossible to graduate without a significant amount of debt — especially for folks from working families and the middle class.
Addressing our student loan crisis is more than a moral imperative. This debt is dragging our economy and creates a significant barrier to the ladder of opportunity for our future leaders. We owe it to them to relate to their experience, to offer solutions, and to make their American dream possible.
