Lessons in poverty, perseverance
Tough financial and life choices face ISU student fighting to get through school.
Laying on the mud-brown couch in the open living room of his fraternity house in two years ago, Kappa Alpha Psi brother Devon Caldwell-Valdez remembers being flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling. As he lay on the couch, he just wanted to go back to sleep — to not have to think about doing homework, going to work, or paying off his balance with the Indiana State University financial aid office.
Devon is a first-generation college student. His family is proud of him for attending college, but as with other first-generation students, they couldn’t relate to or understand some of the struggles that he was up against. About half of ISU’s incoming students are first-generation students, compared to 30 percent nationally. They face obstacles dealing with things other students take for granted.
Looking up at the ceiling with no answers, Devon felt stuck, and found himself wishing that he could have done better in his classes. It was the spring of 2013 when Devon began slacking, ending up on academic probation and losing his financial aid for the following semester. He blames the distractions that college students often face — what Devon calls the “fraternity lifestyle.”
“I took advantage of the social life of being in a fraternity, you know more parties, more thirsty Thursdays, more women,” he says.
Devon said living off campus and not having transportation also didn’t help his grades. He didn’t live far from campus, but he said he sometimes lacked motivation to get up and walk to campus.
“Living off campus, you have to wake up earlier so you can get to class on time,” he says, “But if you live in Mills Hall, you just get dressed and walk out the door.”
Even when Devon had a vehicle, he didn’t have a student parking pass or a bus stop nearby. Skipping class sometimes seemed easier than figuring out transportation.
Devon blames himself for laziness, but other factors were out of his control. After falling behind on his bills, he started working 20-25 hours a week at Wendy’s near campus to get caught up. He worked extra hours whenever he could, making attending classes and doing homework even tougher.
Looking back, Devon says a campus job would have made life easier, but those can be difficult to get and rarely provide the extra hours of an off-campus job.
The long work hours, partying, off-campus expenses and lagging motivation all led to academic probation and lost financial aid for the fall 2014 semester. Devon owed ISU $5935. If he could get it paid down to $500, ISU would take the hold off of his account and let him register for classes for fall semester.
Devon was still able to attend classes in fall 2014, but he knew it might be his last semester at ISU. There was no way he could pay the almost six grand on his own. By the end of the semester, Devon was working as a server at Applebee’s, when he received an eviction notice from his leasing office. He didn’t think to talk to anyone in financial aid to discuss options for paying his account balance; his family didn’t know how to help.
Struggling to make ends meet throughout the semester, Devon was evicted from his apartment and moved into his then-girlfriend’s dorm in Lincoln Quads. Living in the dorm was against ISU’s rules and was a big risk for both of them. Living in Lincoln Quad made things easier for Devon because he no longer had to worry about paying rent or other bills. He was still working at Applebee’s to survive and trying to be a student.
But the new arrangement did nothing to motivate Devon as a student, nor did the $6000 account balance still hanging over his head. He didn’t share his financial troubles with anyone — and told no one that his time at ISU was coming to an end.
A few weeks living together was hard on Devon and his girlfriend. The two broke up. Devon moved into the Kappa house and slept on the couch every night. It was at this point Devon decided that there was no longer a point in going to school. He was tired of waking up every morning with all this weight on his shoulders. Tired of constantly thinking about the account balance, being homeless, wishing that he had cared more about his grades in the previous semester.
Devon stopped attending classes completely. He didn’t officially withdraw from the university; he just stopped attending. Devon left Terre Haute around Dead Week in spring 2014.
“There was no point in taking finals, I was already failing my classes,” Devon says.
When final grades were posted, Devon received an email that he was academically dismissed from the university. Devon knew it was coming; he had mentally prepared for it. Devon told his family, but they didn’t have any reaction to it.
“My mom, of course, asked why I was dismissed but she wasn’t upset like another mom would be. None of my family has been to college, so none of them understand how serious being dismissed is,” he says.
After being dismissed at the end fall semester 2014, he enjoyed the rest of his winter break. He decided to enroll in courses at Ivy Tech’s Indianapolis campus. Devon didn’t want to just give up on his college career, so he decided he would simply start over with his education, become a freshman again.
He still had the account balance at ISU, but Devon still had no way to pay it. He wasn’t aware of any resources, nor did he look into finding any, that would help him with a payment plan.
While attending Ivy Tech, Devon lived at home with his mother and sisters, a household of seven, and slept on the couch. He was also working at Chili’s as a server. Devon was doing better in school and feeling motivated. The pressure of working and going to school wasn’t as strong as when he was at ISU. Devon was able to help his mother with rent occasionally. He worked extra hours to keep his cash-strapped family from being evicted.
His time back in his hometown make Devon realize he wasn’t living the life he wanted. He went away to college to educate himself, so that he could return to his hometown and help those who were less fortunate. His goal was to help the students in his community better themselves — to be a motivator and a leader. The kids from his high school still needed guidance, someone who was in their shoes and who made it out.
Devon wanted to go back to ISU. Devon met with an advisor at Ivy Tech and the only advice she had for him was to pay the $5935 to get enrolled again. He asked family members for money, but no one was able to give him a dollar. Devon picked up more hours at work and saved all that he could. He worked double shifts nearly every day, always asked to cover others’ shifts, as well. He was working about 60 hours a week, determined to get the money to re-enroll at ISU.
But Devon was taking a risk. Even if he paid the balance, he wasn’t guaranteed readmission to ISU. He would have to write an appeal to his academic dean, which had to be approved. If the dean denied his appeal, Devon was out over $5000 and still not a student of ISU.
When Devon had saved $2000, his car broke down. He sold it on Craigslist for $350. Devon then had to ride his bike to work every day. As the colder months started to roll around, it was a harder, longer, and more dangerous ride, often after midnight through some of Indianapolis’s most crime-prone neighborhoods. Still, he kept working, kept saving.
“I stopped telling people that I was saving up to get back in school because people kept telling me that I wasn’t going to get it and that I should just stay in Indianapolis and go to school,” Devon explained.
He shut a lot of people out of his social life as he was saving up, and turned to music as his outlet. Most of his days were spent working or listening to music. He started to live by a lyric from his favorite artist J.Cole’s song “Too Deep for the Intro”:
“If they don’t know your dreams, then they can’t shoot them down…”
In November 2015 Devon paid the $5000. For days and weeks, he called the Office of Admissions, checking on the status of his appeal. His account still showed a red X, indicating he was not able to register for classes.
Then one day, in late November, he saw the red X had been replaced with a green checkmark. He called Admissions. They said that his appeal was approved.
Devon scheduled his classes for January 2016 and lined up housing. Today he lives in the 500 Wabash apartments — a brand new complex on Wabash Avenue with brand new appliances, plush carpeting — a big change from the muddy brown couch where he contemplated his problems just two years ago. His semester is paid for through financial aid, and he is confident that his grades will get him welcomed back next semester. Devon plans to graduate in May 2017.
For more stories in the “Poverty and Policy” project, go online to ISU Community Journalism or www.facebook.com/sycamorejournalism.
