On the Cost of College
I grew up in a household that believes in paying for everything yourself.
Except, as it happens, I paid for almost nothing. As with most youth in the developed world, I had free food, clothes, housing, and education, along with a number of luxuries, like access to WiFi, the library, movies, radio. . . the list goes on.
When I didn’t get something for free, I was rarely ambitious enough to get it myself. I didn’t get a cell phone until my mom made me get one when I went to college.
College. Suddenly everything began to cost money and I needed a job.
But I still had to find time for my full load of classes.
And I hate being in debt, so I promised myself I’d never go take a loan for school. I knew that you could get money from the government for college, but I didn’t want to take that money. I observed the health industry, and how the fact that everyone having insurance artificially raises prices and removes competition there. I saw that the same thing seemed to be happening in education, with prices of education rising faster than inflation. I also knew that a university education was a luxury, not a right, and that the government’s money came from taxpayers. I simply didn’t feel right about taking that money. I can pay for it myself.
I also have never really gotten a scholarship. I almost did once, but I wasn’t accepted on a technicality. I guess I gave up on scholarships.
Consequently, I’ve taken off a few semesters of college just to earn the money to attend. I’ve failed classes because I didn’t have time to both study and work, because shifting my focus between being a working girl and a student gets harder every year, as I prioritize my education less and less, because while I might not need to graduate right now, I absolutely must eat.
All of my older siblings went to college.
None of them finished in four years.
Not all of them finished.
And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. They are successful in my eyes, it’s just that I want to graduate. I’ve always been the studious one. I wish school could be my job like it is with my friends — the ones who have scholarships or whose parents pay for college, who only work 15 hours a week, whose only expenses are rent and entertainment.
It was never my parents’ job to pay for college. I certainly never expected it.
So I work. I spend hours invested at my job, which I love. I’ve found a job that matches my skill-set, the best paying job I’ve ever had.
I’m only taking one class this semester. It’s a class I’ve failed three times, twice for being so overworked that I gave up, and once because I couldn’t focus, because I didn’t feel like a student anymore, and I forgot I had homework. I wasn’t really a student. I was an employee with classes.
I took government money last year. Because I didn’t want to borrow from my parents again. I’d just paid them back from the last time. I was, for the first time, able to live comfortably off of my money. I didn’t have to go on the school’s payment plan to attend.
So it’s FAFSA time again. Time to re-apply. And I don’t know what to do, exactly. I’ll start trying for scholarships again. I’ll crunch the numbers for how much I really need to spend. I don’t care how I do it, but I want to be a full-time student again. This is the semester that it happens.
P.S. The beliefs that I express here are not beliefs that I expect of my peers. They are very personal, and I don’t expect or necessarily want the reader to believe similarly to myself, nor do I believe that adhering to these ideas is even possible for everyone.
