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For Teen Vogue’s IOU package, members of our team shared their experience paying for school and how the cost of college impacted where they went, their career choices, their relationships, and more. Read some of those reflections below.
Jillian Selzer, social media manager
Back in the day, there were several schools on my wishlist that were immediately off the table because of tuition costs, which also meant I had to sacrifice journalism programs I once dreamed of joining. I ended up attending an out-of-state, public university on a partial scholarship, but eventually, my scholarship ran out and my student loans began to add up.
I ultimately transferred to an in-state, smaller, and much cheaper liberal arts college to prevent myself from digging a deeper financial hole. Because of that decision, I was able to significantly reduce how much debt I would have had at my original school, but even then I'm still making payments seven years later. On top of that, I've only been able to pay off 45% of my debt in that time. It's a long road that I didn't think I'd still be on today.
Aiyana Ishmael, associate editor
I didn’t know much about student loans, but after working two jobs — at Popeyes and Old Navy, and then a local spot called Cantina Grill — to pay for my tuition in community college, I knew I would never make enough to pay my university tuition. So I took out loans. The loan that covered the majority of my time at university was the Parent Plus loan, and I was gravely unaware of what it meant. All I knew is that it would cover my costs at school and leave me with enough to buy groceries after I’d paid rent, which was what I needed since I decided I wanted to focus on my education and extracurriculars (like leading my student magazine, which was a beast of a job and consumed most of my free time).
After graduating, I realized that loan was under my mother’s name, so I had lumped another $30,000 on top of her student loans which she’s still paying. That didn’t make me feel good. She told me not to worry about it, but I still do. I have roughly $18,000 in student loans under my name. I am already struggling. In my current role, I still find myself asking to borrow money from my parents. I live paycheck to paycheck and my monthly student loan payments are piling up. I don’t have the money to pay them, even if I wanted to. I applied for the loan payment reduction, and with my job they said I still would need to pay $150 a month. After rent, utilities, commuting, and groceries I’d be lucky to have that much to give them, even if I wanted to.… Financially struggling and the fear of the ~loan man~ coming to take my paychecks away because I haven’t paid them back makes me nervous and forces me out of my “dream life.” I’m no longer chasing my ~career aspirations~. I’m now having to think about what’ll make me enough money to be okay in this life.
Claire Dodson, senior culture editor
When I was a senior in high school, I had a mid-GPA, a semi-high ACT score, some writing talent, and a dream fueled by Gossip Girl: Columbia University. I also knew my parents wouldn’t have much money to give me for college and that it would be on me to snag scholarships and financial aid. My application strategy ended up basically being Ivy League or state school. I then proceeded not to get into any Ivy Leagues (see mid-GPA), so I went with the University of Tennessee in my hometown of Knoxville.
Karissa Mitchell, senior fashion and beauty editor
When deciding which college I would attend, I only applied to one school out-of-state. Out-of-state fees were ridiculous, so I only applied to my one legacy university (that my entire family attended): North Carolina A&T State University. Luckily, I was accepted and it was the one school my parents were willing to put up the money for.
My parents paid my undergrad out-of-pocket, so it wasn't until I decided to get my masters that I now have student debt. My attitude toward that debt is I will pay it off, when/if I cross that bridge.
Mandy Velez Tatti, associate audience director
The cost of school completely determined where I went to college. I grew up as part of the millennial generation and was told that if we did what we were told and made the grades, our dreams were limitless. I truly believed this having been a star student my entire life up until I received my acceptance and financial aid. That totally shattered my long-held belief that hard work was enough. I distinctly remember when my Syracuse University acceptance came in. As I jumped up and down with elation that I got into one of the best journalism schools in the country I looked over to see my mom cry silently on the bed. Not out of happiness, but because she saw the financial aid package first, and even with a $30,000 scholarship, it wasn't enough. My family was working class and living paycheck to paycheck was the norm, not the exception in my house.
Speaking of our house, my application process started in 2008, and in my senior year, we faced foreclosuure, and the single-home I started high school in was no longer mine. I even petitioned my dream school, Boston University, for more money on top of the aid I was given and I got some, but still, not enough. I got a full ride to a state school akin to a community college and would go there for my freshman year before transferring to the University of Pittsburgh my sophomore year. This saved me thousands but at the time, at 17, it felt traumatic. I felt bamboozled, stripped of what I thought I had worked so hard for. My choice that everyone else seemed to get to make for themselves was taken from me. Money dictated where I went.
Katie Wilkins, communications manager, Allure, SELF, Teen Vogue, & Them
I was fortunate (beyond lucky to be frank), to have a pair of amazing and generous parents who took out a loan on my behalf so that I could attend a four-year university without having the burden of long-term debt. As a daughter of an immigrant mother, it was a deal my mom made with me when I was young — a promise that she would pay for my college education no matter what as long as I worked hard so that I could, as she put it, ’go farther’ and have more opportunities than she did growing up.
So in 2013, when I graduated with great grades and four fairly prestigious internships from notable production companies under my belt, I ignorantly (hopefully?) believed I would be one of the lucky ones who would get a job right after college and be spared from the recovering economic recession. Instead, I couldn’t even find a retail job that would hire me because I was either overqualified or there simply wasn’t anything available. After a few months, I finally landed a job as a barista, working full-time and taking home about $200 a week, most of which went to pay for rent.… I never made enough money that could decently accumulate any type of savings. While friends in the tristate area were able to live at home while they searched for a job, that was not an option for me. My family was based in Texas and this was also when remote work options were extremely rare and virtual interview opportunities weren't available.
After a year of working as a barista, I finally landed my first “career job” with a salary that was still below market at $26,000 a year. The challenge of keeping up with bills and utilities was difficult. Little by little, small amounts of debt began to build and to this day, almost 11 years after graduating, I'm still trying to catch up to a salary that meets the demands of supporting myself on my own and living in the city. I feel like the most mentally challenging part of my experience is feeling judged by those who deem me as a “classic millennial” who has no savings to their name. Trust me when I say that’s not my choice and it’s something I’m working extremely hard to change.
Illustrations by Sarah Mazetti
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