What challenges have you faced in higher education? What supports helped with those challenges or would have helped?
From each of our five regions, advocates spoke about financial barriers, institutional hurdles, and lack of support throughout their higher education process.
Check out their nuanced and powerful stories below:
As a first-generation college graduate emerging from poverty, I experienced immense pressure to pursue higher education and succeed in it. A significant portion of my family’s resources was invested in me, and I was determined to ensure that none of it went to waste.
During my sophomore year of high school, I secured my first job as an artist with an activist theater, Free Street Theatre, Chicago’s oldest interracial theater company. This experience ignited my passion for the arts and public health. The organization emphasized the positive impact of sharing personal stories and helping others share theirs within a community.
By my senior year of high school, I had transitioned to taking primarily art classes, with the exception of one required math class. Convincing my family that theater school was the right path for me proved challenging. I had to demonstrate that I could support myself in the field, especially considering the ongoing struggles for better wages within the acting profession.
Upon entering theater school, I realized there were limited opportunities for me, especially in the realm of racial justice theater. The lack of representation in the curriculum led me to switch from acting to directing, becoming the only Black director. My first directing project addressed racism within the institution, as depicted in this video (https://youtu.be/VLw_RrznA5M?si=222f3AuTNJ8axeCI).
I organized three Black arts festivals, and the Columbia Chronicle covered multiple articles about my efforts in promoting racial and gender justice within the institution. While I am deeply committed to this work, I feel that other students are not burdened with the expectation to represent their race or gender identity. I sense that I lost the right to simply be a student and learn, as the curriculum often focused on violence.
To make ends meet, I took on public health and sex education jobs to supplement what I had hoped art would allow us to explore. An older Black professor advised me to focus more on myself during college, cautioning that attempts to make systemic changes are often met with resistance, as institutions profit from maintaining the status quo.
Now, as loan payments loom, I reflect on graduating in 2020 without a proper graduation ceremony. Throughout my college experience, I never felt that Columbia College Chicago had adequately addressed the challenges faced by students with backgrounds similar to mine. Graduating in 2020 underscored the realization that systems are not invested in their students; we were cast aside without guidance, support, or remorse.
Pettway, Will IL
In higher education, I’ve experienced a mix of passion and isolation. When I moved away from home to pursue my degree, I knew that funding would be a significant challenge. Despite counselors advising us not to let money deter us from college, grasping this concept wasn’t always easy. I had to navigate the complexities of obtaining loans and seeking scholarships. Initially, I managed to cover some of my schooling expenses, but when my mental health soared, I decided to move out of my apartment. Consequently, I had to pay higher rent and take out more loans, significantly impacting my sense of identity.
Surrounded by peers receiving financial support from their parents, it took me a while to accept that their reality was not mine. The support I did find came from organizations at school, providing scholarships that helped fund the remaining fees. Now, as a graduate student, the landscape has shifted. Beyond a bachelor’s degree, financial aid is not readily available, and everything comes out of pocket. Fortunately, my connections at the university secured me an assistantship covering most of my tuition, but I still face the responsibility of handling fees. This new challenge adds another layer to my journey, and I’m currently navigating how to manage this financial aspect.
Overall, this facet of higher education is one that I wish more people discussed—the isolating nature of financial struggles and the complexities involved in navigating them.
Sanchez, Karlie IL
In my last year of college, the COVID-19 pandemic struck, causing disruptions that I hadn’t anticipated. While many considered taking a semester off due to the shutdown, I was determined to graduate as I was already close to completing my degree. My spring semester, initially in person, shifted abruptly online, catching everyone off guard. The summer classes I had planned for my Minor were also supposed to be online, but the sudden change impacted the way classes were structured.
The transition to online learning wasn’t seamless; my classes, originally designed for in-person interaction, struggled to adapt. To compensate for the loss of in-person elements, they added more reading assignments and writing papers. While some streamlining was expected, the shift was overwhelming, especially for someone dealing with undiagnosed and untreated ADHD throughout their educational career.
Reading assignments, always challenging for me, became even more daunting without the structure of in-person classes. Managing my ADHD without treatment during the pandemic was tough, and I had to push through to complete my coursework. I spent hours each day at my computer, adjusting to the new format, which was far from ideal for someone who thrived in group settings.
As the pandemic persisted, the differences between classes designed for online learning and those forced to adapt became apparent during the summer term. While the online classes were better formatted, my struggles with focus and reading assignments persisted. Completing everything felt like an uphill battle, but I persevered and graduated with my degrees.
Reflecting on the experience, I questioned the support and resources available to me. I wondered why helpful systems weren’t in place to assist students like me. Despite the challenges, I learned a lot about myself that year. However, I also realized the shortcomings of my college in supporting students during challenging times. While I acknowledged the difficulties everyone faced, I hoped my college learned from this period to create a better scenario and provide more accessible resources for all, including virtual students.
Madera-Guerra, Ness IL
Being a first-generation college student presented numerous challenges that I had to navigate independently. While I received some support from my high school guidance counselor, familial support, especially in filling out crucial forms and documents, was lacking. I believe having family assistance would have been invaluable, particularly when understanding the various options for paying for college.
Attending a predominantly white school added another layer of difference to my experience. Reflecting on it, I think if I had more time to research schools, I might have chosen to attend an HBCU college. However, my primary focus during the application process was affordability, and at that time, I felt attending an HBCU might not be financially feasible.
After my first year of college, I learned to become financially independent, figuring out how to make my college experience more affordable. In hindsight, I wish I had been more cautious about taking out loans and had the opportunity to pay them off while still in school. The experience of stepping out of my comfort zone and becoming self-reliant taught me valuable lessons.
Advocacy for higher education and mentorship are crucial aspects that can significantly improve the college experience, especially for first-generation students. Having resources available and hearing from relatable individuals who have successfully navigated the college journey could have enhanced my own experience. As beneficiaries of higher education, we need to advocate for and mentor those who decide to pursue college, fostering a supportive and informed community.
Watt, Kenyetta IL
When I embarked on my undergraduate journey at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, I was fueled by passion and eagerness to pursue a degree in psychology. Despite my youth and potential, I was unknowingly grappling with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). Described as a bundle of energy with a penchant for being easily distracted since childhood, it wasn’t until my second year of college that I received a formal ADHD diagnosis.
My first year in college was the typical mix of excitement and anxiety. Navigating a vast campus 3,386 miles away from home, coupled with demanding readings and deadlines, felt overwhelming. I struggled to pay attention during lectures, often missing crucial details, and managing deadlines became a considerable challenge due to poor time management and organizational skills.
Unaware of my learning disability, frustration set in as I perceived my classmates effortlessly navigating college life while I lagged behind. Determined to succeed, I sought advice from my therapist, who suggested an examination for ADHD. From the diagnosis to multiple informational sessions with doctors, the pieces started falling into place. The pivotal moment came when I connected with the Office of Disability Services at UWM.
This office played a transformative role in my academic journey. They sat with me, understood my needs, and provided tailored support for my academic success. Game-changing accommodations, such as extended time for exams and technological tools for recording lectures, were instrumental.
As semesters passed, my grades improved, and my confidence soared. I realized that, while ADHD posed challenges, it also brought unique strengths to my studies. My boundless curiosity, creativity, and ability to discern connections others might miss made me an outstanding psychology student.
My story serves as a reminder that, with the right support, determination, and self-acceptance, individuals with ADHD can overcome the challenges in higher education. By seeking available resources and embracing their differences, they not only navigate but thrive, ultimately achieving their dreams.
Weeks, Jasmine IL
One of the challenges I face is the escalating costs of tuition and on-campus living expenses. I share this struggle with many fellow students, often having to skip meals to allocate funds toward rent rather than quality groceries. While programs like the Illinois Commitment and full-ride scholarships exist, the continual increase in tuition and living costs is hard to reconcile. Accessible grocery stores within walking distance are too expensive and lack nutritional value.
Moreover, despite the availability of resource centers for student success, consistent access to essential resources such as therapy or quality mentoring is challenging due to the overwhelming number of students requiring assistance.
Another significant challenge is obtaining the academic support and resources I need as an Autistic student. I experience concentration differences and easily get overstimulated without helpful accommodations in the learning environment. Building rapport and feeling supported by departments prove challenging, even when they claim to be on my side. Sometimes, I feel compelled to prove the extent of my autism to receive the necessary support. Given that my diagnosis is relatively new, it becomes more challenging when encountering skepticism or negative assumptions from those still unfamiliar with what the diagnosis means for my academic development.
While my social network outside of school provides essential support, the university’s support is limited. For academic assistance, I join groups focusing on learning and study skills. For therapeutic support, I turn to online support groups that help me better understand myself. These external support networks connect me with experienced individuals who have navigated similar challenges in college, offering valuable guidance as I navigate my academic journey.
Pan, Leland IL
Tuesday night was when it happened the most. A few other freshmen and I would make our way across the university grounds to be transported to an off-campus dinner. It was only a few minutes after we had arrived, and I could not seem to speak. I had been given the question I did not want. When asked what my parents did for a living, I desperately wanted to impersonate everyone else who had long lists of accomplishments to share. Although it would have been easier to say union members, admitting that my mother was a cafeteria worker and my father a forklift operator was a testament to my disadvantages and an opportunity to unveil how I overcame them. This was Home-Plate, a Washington University-sponsored program that matched first-year students with neighboring families for regular meals, and I had been advised against visiting a home in an area that sat in stark contrast to who I was.
Since move-in day, there were many boxes to place me in. I was a low-income, Black woman, an underrepresented minority in this pristine and coveted space. I was also a first-generation college student. My socioeconomic nexus informed so much of the story I could tell, but my differences compelled me to share a different one. My path from a modest upbringing to an elite college echoed against the intellectual and economic landscape of the institution. I was part of a growing population of Pell Grant-eligible learners who made up just a small percentage of the incoming class. I soon realized that if I was not actively engaged with my community, then I would be missing an opportunity to challenge it to live up to its stated ideals.
I had limited knowledge of the admissions process and academic expectations. I constantly grappled with financial constraints and balancing multiple jobs. Adjusting to college-level coursework was already daunting, and choosing suitable courses was even more intimidating. The pressure to succeed and the stress of navigating this new rhythm without guidance was anxiety-inducing. But I made it work.
I arrived at the next dinner, anew. My love for a home-cooked spread and discourse transcended my expectations of the environment. I was unhindered by any judgment my identity invited, and I aimed to be the footbridge for meaningful engagement. Having grown up in the south suburbs of Chicago, I understood the complexities of city-adjacent life firsthand. My working-class parents never failed to provide a meal, even in the face of deteriorating food pantries and food deserts in place of grocery stores. Whereas now, everything was handcrafted, grass-fed, and chemical-free, this space afforded me the opportunity to reimagine the personal hardships I shouldered in existence with privilege. I leaned into my identity even more. I continued to nurture my commitment to difficult dialogues during and after the program, which included nights driving discussions forward on the lack of socioeconomic diversity in the community. I was integral to the hub that became Home Plate. Though my undergraduate experience came with a unique set of challenges, having spaces like Home Plate allowed me to better navigate and overcome the hurdles faced by most first-generation students.
Hill, Tiffany IL
In my higher education journey, I encountered financial challenges right from the start. Before entering college, navigating the FAFSA application was a struggle for me. Additionally, understanding the various loans and the process of acquiring them was a daunting task. Fortunately, I sought assistance from my school’s financial aid offices, which proved to be a pivotal step.
As I became more familiar with the available support, I gained the confidence to voice my needs and ask for help. This shift in awareness and proactive communication with the financial aid offices played a crucial role in addressing my financial challenges and ensuring that I could navigate the complexities of funding my education.
Lewis, Mycah CA
I’ve encountered several challenges during my college journey, including loss of motivation, imposter syndrome, struggles defining my study habits, and bouts of procrastination. To address these issues and seek support, I’ve actively engaged in various extracurricular activities.
Recognizing the need for motivation, I joined different organizations to infuse energy into my academic experience. While working on improving my study habits, I’ve made a conscious effort to balance my academic pursuits with an enjoyable college social life. Throughout my time in college, I’ve become a member of four different organizations.
Participating in these groups has not only contributed to my personal and academic development but has also allowed me to gain valuable volunteer experience. Moreover, taking on leadership roles within these organizations has helped me build essential skills and confidence. The networking opportunities provided by these extracurricular activities have been instrumental in furthering my passion for nursing.
In essence, by actively engaging in extracurriculars, I’ve found a multifaceted approach to addressing challenges, enhancing my academic experience, and fostering personal growth, all while enjoying the social aspects of college life.
Sanchez, Stephanie CA
The challenges I faced in higher education centered around financial constraints and the need to navigate college independently. My family communicated their inability to financially support my education, leading me to work part-time while attending school. My off-campus job often demanded excessive hours, leaving me with little agency to decline. To address this, I sought scholarships and utilized my school’s food pantry during financially challenging times.
As a first-generation student, my family lacked knowledge about the resources available for my academic success. While they provided emotional support, they couldn’t fully empathize with my college struggles. Seeking a sense of connection, I turned to various resource centers on campus when in need of guidance. These resources not only offered financial wellness advice but also provided tutoring options and a conducive study environment away from home.
Sais, Joseph CA
The current state of higher education falls short of expectations, creating a challenging environment for students. Personally, I find myself working two jobs and relying on loans to sustain my college journey while also supporting myself. The financial strain has reached a point where I sometimes forego meals to save on grocery expenses. This reality is not conducive to the pursuit of a degree and is far from the ideal conditions for a student.
The demand for students to invest significant time and effort into their studies, often equivalent to a full-time job, is already taxing. Adding the necessity of additional jobs simply to make ends meet is not acceptable. The struggle to balance work and academics affects the overall well-being of students and hinders the quality of their educational experience.
There is a clear need for increased support at the state level to alleviate the financial burdens on individuals pursuing higher education. Offering more comprehensive assistance, be it through increased financial aid, affordable housing options, or access to nutritious food, is crucial to ensuring that the pursuit of a degree is not synonymous with compromising one’s basic needs and quality of life. Addressing these issues collectively will contribute to a more equitable and supportive environment for all individuals striving to attain a higher education.
Mouch, Rayne TX
A significant challenge I’ve faced is securing financial support for my education. Despite being capable, circumstances led me to not excel academically. Pursuing a degree in music brought scholarships, yet I still had to rely on substantial loans. At 18, there was pressure to immediately pursue a degree without exploring alternative options, like starting at a community college for more scholarship opportunities. Unfortunately, these alternatives weren’t presented to me by professionals whose role was to guide my educational path.
Issues related to race and social class also emerged during my time at a conservative Christian PWI in West Texas. Uncomfortable comments from both students and staff arose, and my attempts to address them were often met with defensiveness and dishonesty. Hoping for a more inclusive environment, I enrolled in a more liberal graduate school, only to find similar racism and prejudice among students and professors. Despite available resources, I hesitated to seek support.
Feeling disillusioned, I took a leave of absence, uncertain about returning. I’ve come to believe that higher education isn’t always conducive for minority students, both financially and socially. I contend that institutions should be more proactive in the success of their minority students, particularly Black and Latino students. True learning in these institutions requires gaining diverse perspectives, but societal and financial elitism act as gatekeepers, hindering this exchange. While I know I am just as capable as any other student, I feel reduced to a statistic—a role I refuse to accept.
Tucker, Shane TX
Throughout my life, I sensed that my brain operated differently, especially in stressful situations where it felt like my mind was ablaze with overwhelming emotions. Despite witnessing my friends’ struggles with anxiety and depression, I resisted acknowledging that I might share similar challenges. In my family, seeking help was viewed negatively—an inconvenience and a problem to be dealt with reluctantly.
During my teenage years, emotions often dominated me, leading to intense feelings of anxiety, anger, depression, grief, and confusion. While recognizing the need for therapy, obstacles stood in my way. My parents were reluctant, and even if they agreed, my insurance lacked coverage nearby, leaving me feeling utterly hopeless.
Fast forward a few years, and I graduated from high school, entering a local community college. My first year was entirely online, offering some relief but exacerbating other emotional struggles. The positive feelings improved, yet the negative ones intensified. In my sophomore year, discussions about transferring after completing my associate’s degree arose. Encouraged by faculty connections at my community college, I considered applying to UT Austin, a dream school I thought was out of reach. However, my parents, failing to see my progress, insisted I attend the local satellite campus. This decision, among other factors, triggered a spiral of self-doubt, anxiety, and a looming depressive state.
Recognizing my struggle, one of my professors recommended the campus mental health counseling services. Despite hesitations due to my parents’ likely disapproval and fear of opening up, I recognized it as my best option without insurance coverage. I attended seven sessions with the on-campus therapist before graduating. It proved profoundly positive, providing me with tools and coping mechanisms to manage anxiety and depression. Two years later, I still rely on the skills she imparted during overwhelming moments. Access to mental health resources at my college played a crucial role in helping me take control of my mental health.
Brown, Linley TX
Being a first-generation college student transitioning from foster care into higher education presented unique challenges for me. I did my best to navigate these obstacles, which included struggles with understanding and completing FAFSA paperwork, managing tuition costs, and navigating the college registration process. Balancing work commitments while selecting appropriate courses and managing long work hours alongside classes added to the complexity. Adapting to the college environment and feeling comfortable in a potentially unfamiliar setting was an additional challenge. Coping with emotional challenges stemming from transitioning out of foster care and adjusting to college life also proved to be significant hurdles.
Entering college alone, I initially believed these would be the only challenges I faced, but I soon encountered more difficulties related to addressing transportation and housing needs, especially when living off-campus or transitioning from foster care to independent living. Having support in these areas would have been invaluable. Support, in my case, would have entailed housing assistance for finding affordable options near campus, transportation vouchers or discounts, and information about housing resources specifically available to former foster youth.
Opportunities to connect with other first-generation students, foster youth alumni groups, and student organizations fostering a sense of community and providing mentorship would have been immensely beneficial. Additionally, financial literacy workshops and resources teaching budgeting, managing loans, and making informed financial decisions could have provided valuable guidance. Advisors, mentors, and support groups could have significantly improved my college experience and helped me overcome the unique challenges I faced as a first-generation college student who aged out of foster care.
Jackson, Angel TX
Reflecting on my higher education journey, two significant challenges have defined my experience: imposter syndrome and the lack of resources in my rural university setting.
Imposter syndrome, a persistent feeling of inadequacy, posed a considerable hurdle as I entered an academic environment with high achievers. Questioning my abilities and sense of belonging, this self-doubt created a mental barrier affecting my academic and personal growth. To address this challenge, building a robust support system was crucial. Seeking guidance from mentors, both academic and personal, provided valuable perspectives, highlighting that imposter syndrome is a shared experience among high achievers. Connecting with professors who shared their own stories of overcoming imposter syndrome reassured me that these feelings were not indicative of personal failure. Participating in support groups and workshops allowed me to share experiences with peers facing similar struggles, fostering a sense of community and solidarity.
The second challenge I faced was the lack of resources due to my rural surroundings. Moving from an urban to a rural setting limited access to educational resources and extracurricular activities, making me feel disadvantaged compared to peers from more urban backgrounds. In hindsight, a tailored support system for students from rural backgrounds would have been immensely beneficial. Initiatives such as mentorship programs connecting students with professionals who navigated higher education from rural areas could bridge the guidance gap. Leveraging technology for virtual learning resources, online tutoring, career guidance sessions, and remote mentorship opportunities would mitigate geographical limitations.
In conclusion, my higher education journey involved overcoming imposter syndrome and addressing the limitations of a rural university setting. The transformative power of a supportive community and tailored resources emerged as key components. Mentorship, both formal and informal, played a pivotal role in combating imposter syndrome and fostering personal growth. Targeted initiatives and virtual resources could effectively address the lack of opportunities in rural settings, ensuring equal access to tools for success in higher education. Despite these challenges, they served as catalysts for personal development, resilience, and a deeper appreciation for the value of a supportive educational ecosystem.
Feaster, Alexiea TX
I often ponder how my life might differ if I had chosen to attend an HBCU rather than a PWI. With a mere 4% of black students in my school’s student body, I sometimes feel like an outsider in my community. This sense of isolation is exacerbated by the stark lack of diversity in my STEM major, where I’m often one of only 2 or 3 black students in smaller classes. The underestimation of my academic abilities by peers compels me to continually prove my intelligence. I wonder why everyone else at my school doesn’t share these feelings, and why fitting in is a constant struggle for me.
Despite the small size of the black community at my school, we compensate for our numerical scarcity with a close-knit bond. Participating in organizations and initiatives tailored to black students is a source of comfort. Attending any black student organization meeting guarantees encountering familiar faces, and in these spaces, we share our struggles, cultural experiences, interests, and goals. Although our community is supportive, the lack of diversity in my major makes me feel like an outsider. I long for increased diversity and impact, especially after the setback caused by changes to the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion offices in Texas. The overwhelming homogeneity in my major’s college results in a scarcity of black professors. If the school genuinely prioritizes the best interests of all its students, it should take more significant steps to ensure that black students, staff, and faculty feel as welcome as their non-black counterparts in the broader community.
Umeakuana, Favour TX
Education, in my eyes, has always been a vehicle for liberation and opportunity. From a young age, I understood that a college education was the key to success and upward mobility. Despite the challenges I faced in my K12 education, including under-resourced schools, a lack of representation, and a curriculum that didn’t reflect my experience as a Black girl, I remained determined to pursue a college education that aligned with my aspirations.
Opting to attend a historically Black college for my undergraduate degree turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made. It filled the gaps in my education, providing the missing pieces of knowledge about the rich history of my people and addressing the issues faced by Black women. The professors and mentors, all Black women, played a crucial role in shaping who I am today. The sense of community and identification at my HBCU helped me thrive as a student.
However, the historical underfunding of HBCUs across the country cannot be ignored. While these institutions embody resilience and excellence, they have faced systemic discrimination and limited resources. Despite the challenges, my experiences with marginalization in education fueled my trajectory into education policy.
My educational journey took a new turn as I pursued a master’s degree in a predominantly White institution. Here, I face severe underrepresentation, being the only Black person in my cohort, with no Black women professors in my department. The institution’s Black student population is low, and recent legislative actions may further impact enrollment. This scarcity of Black students, professors, and curriculum has led me to seek knowledge and community outside of my educational institution, emphasizing the challenges of systemic racism.
As I progress in my post-secondary education, I see the elusive nature of liberation and opportunity for individuals who look like me. My story is not one of individual racism but systemic racism deeply rooted in institutions and practices. Seemingly race-neutral policies in higher education exacerbate the difficulties in pursuing and persisting toward a degree, especially for non-White students. In response, I’ve directed my focus toward policy advocacy in my graduate studies and future career, aiming to address these challenges and promote equitable opportunities in education.
Wilson, Janeva TX
In my college experience, I’ve encountered various barriers, spanning financial, academic, personal, and structural challenges within the college system. One significant challenge revolves around maintaining the required GPA for my scholarship. The continuous effort needed to meet these academic standards can be demanding. A potential solution to this issue lies in making college more affordable and reducing the financial burden. Additionally, increasing the availability of scholarship opportunities would be beneficial in alleviating this challenge.
McElhaney, London CO
My journey into higher education didn’t begin until my early 20s. I dropped out of high school in my junior year but decided to obtain my GED a few years later. In the summer of 2014, already a mother of four and not your typical college student, I signed up for my first class at a local community college.
As an undocumented immigrant, I did not yet qualify to fill out the Free Application for Federal Student Aid, also known as FAFSA. During the first semester, a summer mini-course, I paid for it out of pocket. This was a challenge at the time since I had just delivered a premature baby girl at 23 weeks. My first college semester was spent between campus and the NICU at the hospital where she was, and we were a one-income household, putting a financial strain on our family.
However, weeks into my summer course, I caught the eye of the honors program director, who encouraged me to apply to the program, emphasizing that it came with a scholarship if accepted. I got into the program the following fall semester and took the steps necessary to figure out any other programs I could get involved in that also offered scholarship opportunities—this opened a whole new world for me. Despite not being able to qualify for FAFSA, the support system offered through scholarships ensured that for an undocumented mother of four like me, college was still a possibility.
During the two and a half years I was a student at Lee College, the most challenging theme for me was finances. With two children in grade school and two in daycare, the degree seemed impossible to obtain many times. I took a job at a daycare so that I could get a percentage knocked off the monthly bill for the little ones, but it was hard to make ends meet and still pursue higher education. I think a daycare located on campus would have served tremendously. However, scholarship programs were crucial to my higher learning experience, and without those opportunities, I do not believe I could have gotten through college. Challenges remain as I am now on the journey toward my bachelor’s, and I’d say nothing has changed. Being a mother and finding the time and resources to dedicate to one’s own higher education is easier said than done, especially when access to resources is limited.
Guzman, Maryori CO
I’ve always wanted to go to college. When I was younger, around 9 or 10 years old, I imagined myself going to college across the country, living on campus by myself, and having the full college experience. Unfortunately, I never thought to factor in the cost of this dream of mine until 7 years later when I actually had to apply for colleges.
I never knew how expensive attending undergrad was for just tuition alone in my own state. Above-average grades wouldn’t cover the cost of the life I envisioned for myself. There, my dream of moving to California and living the life of a college student I’ve seen on television vanished within a few Google searches. However, I didn’t mind going to school in New York; I would be closer to home and able to save money while still getting an education.
I was quickly fooled by this thought when I was marked ineligible for financial aid due to my expected family contribution from FAFSA. Even with partial scholarships and grants from some institutions, the total cost wouldn’t be covered whatsoever. My mother is a nurse, so in the eyes of the Department of Higher Education, her income is enough for her to cover my college expenses while also balancing the bills and basic necessities of the entire household. This sad assumption is the reason why I was not only unable to qualify for financial aid but also had to take out thousands of dollars in loans every semester just to cover tuition and also work full-time to avoid accumulating excessive debt.
The higher education system wasn’t designed for individuals in situations like mine (and I’ve met quite a few people in my situation). It is unfair to gear students towards a life that requires a college education but makes obtaining this degree a series of trials and tribulations.
My mother raised a strong young lady, so I never allowed the challenges in life to drown me out, but I’d be lying if I said it isn’t overwhelming sometimes. It’s vital to bring awareness to this topic because most students are unaware of college costs until it becomes relevant to them. Thousands of people are unable to completely enjoy their college experience because they have to work strenuous hours to pay for it or put their studies on hold to meet their basic needs.
The CUNY ASAP program has helped me the most with my college process by providing me with an advisor, textbook stipend, and metro card for transportation. Due to my financial aid status, I was unable to receive tuition assistance, but the other resources available do make a huge difference for me. The textbook stipend has been the most helpful because professors often require students to purchase websites and software to complete assignments versus assigning traditional homework from an actual book. The ASAP program is extremely beneficial and helps many other students with college costs and provides guidance and a support system.
Sackor, Patrice NY
The beginning of my freshman year of college was different from a typical experience due to COVID-19. Classes were online, and there was no orientation regarding classes or meeting with advisors. I had to learn how to use a completely different learning tool, which was Blackboard. This was where students submitted assignments and reached out to other classmates. I learned how to use it through YouTube, looking up my classes because I wanted to know the benefits of it. I kept reaching out to my advisor at the time, but she was overwhelmed also. I felt as if she could have referred me to someone else because being a 17-year-old coming into college was definitely an experience in itself.
One day I decided to reach out to some people by searching “#ualbany” on Instagram. I reached out to them because I didn’t want to go into college without prior experience with certain things. I spoke to sophomores, juniors, and seniors regarding what I needed help with. They were very eager to help me and even connected me with people who would help me even further down the line. Being able to connect with other students had a major impact on me because I am someone who suffers from anxiety and I need to know how to do things before someone even asks due to not wanting to feel behind in class or life.
Ifebuzo, Ruth NY
One significant issue I currently face in higher education is the lack of housing resources and transparency about available services. There is a concerning rise in homelessness within our community, particularly among young adults in college. While support services exist to assist students with housing, the information about them is not easily accessible. I’ve had to resort to multiple emergency housing grants, loans, and financial aid to afford housing for just one semester, and I am still grappling with the uncertainty of where I’ll live in the upcoming Spring semester. This is a critical issue that deserves the attention it’s beginning to receive.
Despite receiving three installments of $600, a loan of $717, and financial aid refunds totaling about 3k, I still owe hundreds of dollars to cover my Fall semester housing bill. This situation feels inhumane. The exorbitant cost of $6.9k per semester for a college student to live in a dormitory close to their school’s campus is unjust. Balancing work, school, personal life, and the predicament of needing more money than I have is an overwhelming challenge. While I appreciate the financial aid and resources I’ve been able to utilize, no one should have to endure such hardships just to secure a place to sleep after classes.
Polk, Tianna NY
Junior year, a pivotal phase in high school, where every student embarks on the quest for the ideal college. This search involves finding a balance between affordability and the prospect of receiving a quality education, causing anxiety as we grapple with questions and uncertainties about the future.
The COVID-19 pandemic added an extra layer of challenge to this already anxiety-inducing time, disrupting the lives of countless individuals. Schools were compelled to explore alternative ways to deliver services and maintain a productive learning environment for students. However, this shift brought about many hurdles in accessing essential resources and obtaining guidance throughout the college process. The pandemic glaringly exposed the inadequacies within our public education system, especially impacting my public high school and the 571 public schools in New York City.
As a student in a public high school with a large population of about 3,652 students, predominantly low-income, first-generation, and students of color, navigating the college process became a stress-inducing and overwhelming experience. The junior class, with approximately 500 students, had only two guidance counselors, leading to inadequacy and leaving many without crucial support. The overwhelming caseload resulted in a lack of genuine connections between guidance counselors and students, hindering effective advice on college and future career plans.
In addition to the insufficient support and limited resources, awareness of existing programs within the school was lacking, making it difficult for students to access options like dual enrollment courses, college advice, counseling, and career development services. Limited availability and teacher participation in Advanced Placement and Dual-Enrollment courses further restricted access, placing students on waitlists.
Personally, I had to proactively seek out resources by connecting with external organizations that assisted students of color in navigating the college process and securing financial aid. This experience emphasizes the pressing need for increased funding within our public school education system. Elevated financial support is crucial to ensure a high-quality education, providing students with the necessary resources for their journey toward higher education.
I implore legislators, representatives, and policy advisors to prioritize higher education, particularly for students of color and marginalized groups. This involves dedicating more funding to enable students to engage in college courses during high school, expanding dual-enrollment programs, and offering comprehensive college guidance. As a nation, we must intensify our efforts to make college education and successful degree attainment accessible to every individual, closing the opportunity gap.