Now, before you read this, I will say a few words. They are very important, hence the bold font. If you get easily anxious about finances, don't read this. If thinking about money stresses you out, don't read this. In this post, I am getting completely financially naked about my student loan debt. It's uncomfortable, and brutally honest. I haven't made up any numbers, this is all the absolute truth. This is an account of my experience with financing my post-secondary education.
This is a touchy subject for many newly graduated students.
Student loans. I’m not writing to complain about my specific situation, though
I am going to complain about the system and the environment that created the
problem in the first place. I’m not one to talk much about money. Frankly, I
try not too care too much about it, I rarely discuss figures, and then, they’re
never mine. I’ll mention that I’m broke, once in a while, to explain why I can’t
go out, or why I always cook at home, and why I go to thrift stores instead of
getting a new piece of clothing. The people that are dear to me know that I
have debt, and that I don’t have much money, and the conversation usually stops
there. Not even my parents know the actual amount of my debt. Why is that?
Because I’m ashamed. I’m so ashamed of the fact that I decided to pursue higher
education, and that I didn’t know how to manage my finances. It took a brutal
wake-up call between my second and third year of university to understand what
a dangerous road I was on. And an even more brutal blow came about a year ago
when everything I believed to be stable fell to pieces and I couldn’t even
afford my rent. I had to bite through my stubbornness and ask my parents for
financial help. I’ve tried desperately to be financially independent for the past
few years, and I can’t. I can’t, it’s too much pressure. I can’t handle it. I
can’t even understand it. I try to put it in perspective, but it simply doesn’t
work. The system is broken, and I’m one out of hundreds of thousands of
students trying to crawl back to safety.
I’m in debt. In fact, I have so much debt that when spread
out over 15 years, or 180 months, I would need to pay 393.50 per month to get
rid of it. Oh wait, that’s not including interest. What? In plain numbers, it
means that this very day, my debt stands at $70 829.53. How did this monstrous figure
ever creep up so high? I bet you’re feeling very uncomfortable now.
I read about students whose debt is around $30 000, and I
want to cry. I hear about those who have less than $20 000, and I’m deadly
jealous. I empathise with those who are in the same boat as me. A quick google
search reveals that the average student loan in Canada is about $27 000. How
did mine ever get so high?
Let’s break it down, shall we. Tuition comes first, at Dalhousie,
it runs around $3000 a term. My very first term, I was looking at $8445 for
tuition, my room in a residence, and the meal plan offered by the university.
That term, I received $4589 in loans. Not enough. I had to take out a private
bank loan. Since I was going to face more or less the same situation for the
duration of my studies, I took a $10 000 pro annum loan, good for four years. It
took me five years to get my degree, and let me tell you, I bit and scratched
hard during that final year. $44 424.08, that’s what I paid for five years of
full-time education, two classes at NSCAD, and a summer course that took place
in the Czech Republic.
Then comes the cost of living. I’m not living in my bedroom
in my parents’ house. I moved 700 km away, because nothing at the Université de
Moncton, campus d’Edmundston, was able to attract my attention for more than a
half second. Result, I need an apartment, electricity, heating, internet, and phone.
Aside from that first year when room and board was calculated with my student
fees, I had to pay for all of that on top of my already soaring high tuition.
Apartments don’t come cheap in Halifax. Landlords like to take advantage of
students, and charge them absolutely ridiculous amounts of money for the
convenience of having a roof above their heads. Over four years, my rent fell
between $500 a month, to $764 a month. The average comes to about $587 a month,
so over the remaining four years of my education, it looks like $28 176, give
or take a few thousand. And then there’s groceries, and bills, and bus tickets
to visit my parents, and school supplies, and unexpected spending, and
douchebaggery from people I thought were friends, and break ups, and moving,
and so on, and so on. Life is expensive. Stating the obvious.
I started attending university with no money. Of course, I
had a part-time job for a couple of years before that. But what are 10 hours a
week at $8 an hour going to do, other than cover clothes and meals out for a
teenage girl? I was so proud when I bought my mini-fridge just before I moved
to Halifax, it was $129, it was almost all I had in my bank account, a few
weeks before starting university. I had no concept of money.
Of course I worked during the summers. My first summer, I
moved back to New-Brunswick, and worked in a library, in the kids section. It
was a fun job, 12 weeks of employment at 36 hours a week at minimum wage. It
was a student job created by the government of New-Brunswick. Unfortunately,
the apartment market is fierce in Halifax, and we had signed a May-lease for
our flat. And as it was our first apartment, and no one was physically in
Halifax that summer, we didn’t sublet it. Not that we could have either,
everyone sublets during the summer, and the more expensive places don’t meet a
great success rate at being rented out. So that summer all my
government-subsidized income actually went into a greedy landlord’s pockets.
The next summer I stayed in Halifax, and worked in a call centre. It was simply
horrible. I made it through until the end of July before walking in one day,
dropping my headset, tears streaming down my face, and quitting. The same day,
I was starting a new job in the retail industry, working in one of the biggest
chains in North America. I had about 20 hours a week at minimum wage during the
summer, which barely covered my needs. I kept that job for a little over a
year, working 20-25 hours a week while being a full time student. That was my
third year. I had been denied student loans because my father retired that
year, and received bonuses. That catapulted my case in the: “oh, her parents
can pay for her” category. It was tough; I always worked Thursdays through
Sundays, with 8 hours shifts on Saturdays and Sundays. I was always grumpy.
While my roommates started drinking and partying and blasting music early on Friday
nights, all I could think about was that I had be at work by 8 am on Saturdays.
I couldn’t blame them either. I wanted to party with them, but I couldn’t
afford to miss work because of a hangover.
That following summer, I took up a second part-time job,
effectively juggling two schedules for an average of 50 hours a week, and a
summer class. I worked seven days a week. I had no life. I dropped one job at
the end of the summer, the one that had the least hours. I still worked close
to 30 hours a week during my fourth year of university. I did receive loans
that year, but as ever, they only barely covered my tuition. I kept the same
job over the summer, even though I was away for one month, taking a most
wonderful class about baroque culture that elated my mind and made me aware of
all the things sublime that I had been oblivious to up until that point. That
was one month of lost wages, and it was darn expensive to. I managed to max out
my credit card with airfare and accommodations there, and returned to Canada
with my last $30 in Czech Korunas. I was glad to be back at work, but business
was slow during the summer, and I didn’t work as much as I had before, and so I
scraped by. I eventually let go of that job too, because it was a lot of
commuting, and I knew I would be overwhelmed with my last, and most intense
yet, year at school. It doesn’t mean that I didn’t work. I had three part-time
jobs on campus, that somehow I managed to fit into my ridiculous schedule. All
in all, I would work about 12 hours a week on average, and it would jump to
twice that when there were shows at the theatre, and I was required to spend my
evenings dressed in black, politely asking guests for their tickets, and then
sitting in the back of the theatre. It was the easiest job I’ve ever had, and I
was very grateful for it too. Though ushering was sporadic, it kept me afloat.
As I mentioned earlier, my bank loan was only good for four years, and by the
time I started fifth year, it was all gone. My student loan was a bit more
substantial that year, as a “mature” student, they no longer looked at my
parents income when deciding how much lunch money they would grant me for the
year. Though it’s a double-edged sword. I had to work to make ends meet, and
because I worked, they decided I didn’t need help to afford life’s basic
necessities that much…
Of course, I applied to bursaries. And received them
steadily at a rate of one per term, starting in second year. It was only ever a
few hundred dollars, but they always made me feel a little better about my
situation. In November of last year, I received a bursary unexpectedly, to
reward my outstanding work in costume studies. It was a life saver. I received
the news during the most stressful weeks I’ve ever experienced in my life, when
I had about $40 in my name, had recently moved into an overly-expensive
one-bedroom apartment, to escape a very complicated situation with another even
more expensive apartment… and had the course load of the overachiever that I
am, with all the deadlines coming up in the same week, one after the other,
like some evil mastermind had decided to make our lives a living hell.
I was also extremely mad when I found out that students who
achieved a certain GPA were automatically awarded other bursaries when they had
a full course load. I had a full course load, I was working extremely hard and
getting stellar grades and praises from my profs. Why wasn’t I receiving one?
Because of the NSCAD classes that I was required to take as part of my
programme. As “courses from another institution”, they voided my eligibility to
those bursaries. It made me sick with rage. I was fuming on the inside.
I made it through. In May my extremely expensive parchment from
Dalhousie was mailed to my parents’ house in New-Brunswick. I decided not to
attend convocation for two reasons: firstly, I didn’t want to go, I didn’t feel
like the ceremony would change my feelings toward the university, which are
sour at best, and secondly, I was at work when the ceremony took place. After
all that, I still worked three jobs during the summer. I worked like a mad
woman. I worked a full-time job, a part-time job, and an opera contract on top
of that. I paid off my credit card, and built a little cushion to be able to
move to Germany in September. I had many, many breakdowns during the summer.
Graduating from university was anti-climactic, and left me with a sense of
void.
It’s been almost six months since I finished university. I’ve
been living in Germany for about six weeks now. My financial cushion is mostly
gone, I have enough to cover my living expenses until the end of November,
although I’m trying to convince myself that the 50€ in my wallet is all that I
have until I get paid. Which I hope is soon. Student loan payments are supposed
to start in a couple of weeks. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I received a
fixed salary here, which is enough for me to live on and travel a bit, though I
need to tighten my budget a little, and monitor my expenses more closely. But
it’s definitely not enough to afford $400 in payments every month. Before I
left, I called the national student loan service of Canada, and explained my
situation. Normally, I would be eligible for loan repayment help, because I
have a very limited income, though there’s one small detail that disqualifies
me from such help. I’m not currently living in Canada. Great. Because obviously
I would give up the opportunity to live and work in Germany. I also applied for
a programme that shaves back a few thousand dollars from student debt when
post-secondary education is completed in a timely fashion. I heard of other people
taking five years to obtain their bachelor’s, and qualifying for that help, and
so I thought I would qualify too. Too optimistic? Of course. I was denied.
Which is what sparked this essay about my student loan debt
story. I’m not writing to complain. I’m writing to expose the fact that I
busted my ass off, I worked like a crazy person. I got a degree with straight A’s,
even though I worked through my studies for the past three years. I’ve always
had a roof over my head, always had heat to keep me warm, and food in my belly,
and I can’t start expressing how grateful I am for those things. But God damn
it, I’m still not out of that hell hole, and I won’t be for the next 15 years.
What happens to those poor fellows who have big dreams of
university, and can’t afford to go? The government of Canada told me that my
parents had to contribute $10 000 per year to my studies. Uhm, excuse me, my
parents don’t have that money to just give me as they please. I have other
siblings, there’s the house to fix, cars to pay for, insurance and bills. The
last thing I want to be is another burden on my parents’ shoulders.
If it hadn’t been for that bank loan, I wouldn’t have been
able to attend university at all. What can someone do without a degree
nowadays? When will the people in charge of this great country that is Canada
realize that post-secondary education should not be reserved to the elite.
Post-secondary education is a right, and it is not okay to let universities
spike their tuition and burden their students with more financial stress than
ever. Why can’t Canada follow in the steps of some of the European countries
such as France, Germany, and Sweden. Or closer to home, make a step in the same
direction as Newfoundland, and eliminate student debt by converting loans into grants.
If we pride ourselves in being such a great nation, maybe, just maybe we should
start investing in our future. How are we supposed to fix the economy if students
are crippled with debt as soon as they emerge, fresh-faced and dreamy from
university? This situation is a great social injustice, and I am mad, and
afraid, and unsure about the future. I am flustered as I type these words. How
are we supposed to build a country in our image if we postpone our dreams and
hopes in order to repay our loans? Post-secondary education is there to open
our minds to the possibilities, to fine-tune our senses, to make us dream of a
better future, to outfit us with the tools to build that future. But as soon as
we graduate, we are faced with that wall, and we are chained to it, and there’s
no escape.
This is my story, and I don’t doubt that there are thousands
of similar stories out there. Of students outraged, and anxious. If we all
wrote our stories, and sent them to Ottawa, do you think they would listen? Do
you think they would realize what hardships we go through? Do you think they
would try and rectify the situation? Do you think they would do anything?
