Education crisis
Printer-Friendly
Email this Letter
Post a Comment (0)
When I was accepted to the University of Virginia, one of the best public universities in the nation, my mother cried and thanked God for giving me the opportunity to get a great education at a reasonable cost. Although I had always imagined myself attending school in a metropolitan area like New York or San Francisco, I was pleased enough to know that even though I had to pay for most of my own higher education, at least it was at public school prices.
Flash forward six years later. I’m 23 years old, I graduated two years ago, I have spent those two years working hard to keep myself afloat, and I am saddled with $20,000 of debt. A few days ago I made the requisite $150 monthly payment on one of my four student loans and saw that the remaining balance was $6,529. Having long forgotten what the original amount was, I decided to call the loan office. It turned out that my original loan amount was $6,019. After fifteen months of paying $150 per month, a total of $2,250, my loan amount had increased by $510.
As a child, I lived my life for school. I knew from a young age that my goals included obtaining as much education as I possibly could. My parents, immigrants from Iran, a nation which places a great deal of importance on education, had instilled a love of learning in me that stayed with me and became a core part of my personality. Graduate school was never a question; it was the inevitable answer—a Master’s degree, perhaps even a PhD.
The time has come for me to start making my graduate school plans, and yet, it is with sadness and great trepidation that I begin to consider my options. I have the chance to go to an Ivy League school, to follow on the path I had set out for myself from the moment I read my first book, to become a scholar, maybe a professor, maybe a writer, an expert in something. Yet I can’t reconcile myself completely to that life because all I can see is a future of triple mortgages, suffocating interest rates, and an endless struggle to take care of myself and the family I hope to have. I have seen it all around me: I have seen how financial suffering and debt can tear a family apart, drive a person to the brink of sanity, and put undue pressure on children who should never have to know what Chapter 21 is.
I know there are millions of people in the exact same situation as me and if it’s this bad for members of the middle class, how much worse is it for those with more dire financial problems who also want to seek out an education? I would call this situation no less than a crisis of education. It is a crisis when talented, driven, exceptional students who want to pursue higher levels of education are disillusioned because they have to choose between following their passions and wanting a financially secure life. It is a crisis when 80 percent of someone’s monthly loan installment goes toward interest, ensuring an inextricable parasitic relationship with a creditor for years to come. It is a crisis when we as a nation hypocritically demand the necessity for freedom of education in nations around the globe, when so many here are shackled with financial burdens that obliterate the ability to pursue academia. How can this be freedom?
Yes, everything that is worth anything requires hard work, perseverance, sweat, tears, and blood, including education. But does that mean we have to bleed ourselves dry to accomplish that goal? How many brilliant people—people who could have potentially contributed so much to society—have given up in the face of astronomical financial constraints? I never want to have to tell my children to end their dreams of higher education after they complete their undergraduate degree, or maybe even their high school diplomas. I never want to put a limit to what they can achieve and to what summits they can reach.
I am 23 years old. I remember how exciting it was to learn something new in school, to truly understand a new concept. I wanted to feel that for as long as I possibly could. Unfortunately, it seems that path has finally come to a dead-end. No one should have to choose between an education and a stable financial existence.
Tara Ebrahimi
You must be logged in to post a comment.