From the moderator, Maya Dukmasova: The Outlet is a forum for thoughtful and engaging student discussion. The panel of students will address a different question every week, relating to pertinent student issues and concerns. Our mission is to do our best to represent the wide array of opinions and experiences on this campus in order to promote dialog and discussion among students of diverse backgrounds. We hope that the Outlet Panel will grow into a large group, representative of the student body, and that our interaction among ourselves and with our readers will do service and justice to the variety of interests and ideas present on this campus. Please join us in our weekly discussions to promote and encourage intelligent, considerate discussion as an outlet for your individual thoughts as well as for the multiplicity of ideas in the University community.

This week’s question: How much is your education costing you?

Maya: Since coming to UR, my education has cost me much family tension. I was blessed to come here on a generous scholarship and therefore free from parental pressure to choose a certain area of study because “they were paying for it.” When I became a philosophy and religion double major, my medical family was very surprised and cynical. I think my mother, who has a PhD in psychology as well as an MD, always knew that I would not follow the family path to medicine, but the seemingly “dead-end” choices I have made have caused many a heated discussion among us. Every time the question of my academic choices come up, my parents try to voice their concerns that I will not be able to provide for my family in a tumultuous economy, and that such esoteric fields of study would not offer me many choices after I graduate. I am steadfast in my beliefs that my studies are important and worthwhile. I am not sure yet as to what I will be doing after graduation, but I am sure that the closer I get to finishing my degree, the more skepticism my parents will voice. As of now, I think they are still hoping that I will change my mind. The worst part about it though is that they may be right. If I face difficulties with finding a job or getting into the graduate program of my choice when I finish at the UR, their “I told you so” could come at a high price indeed.

Carlos: Coming from a big family I knew that college was not an option, but as my high school years went by, I understood that there are other options — it’s just a matter of taking advantage of them. I am standing here on this campus because of the sacrifices my mom and I committed ourselves to since my middle school years. I lived my middle school years in a bubble — in a prison — and the only way out was to make good grades. Since I was committed to this, I had to give up TV, family dinners, family trips, family nights — family everything. High school came and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. High school was not as exclusive as middle school, but I still felt I was living in a never-ending bubble. IB classes made me think twice about where my life was heading, but I managed through the rough times. All I could think of was that first day when I would touch college grounds and become who I was meant to be. Now that I have made it all the way to college, I’m a bit tired: tired of always living in a bubble, a bubble that doesn’t burst open. I am waiting for that day when I can finally live with my family and not have to worry about homework or financial aid. My education has cost me more than I could ever own: my family. The sad thing is, I can’t go back in time and change things. I want my family back!

Victoria: Though my collegiate education may not be putting significant strain on my family’s wallet — because of a scholarship that I am thoroughly grateful for — it does add pressure on the relationships I share with my family members. I was more than ready to leave home; thus, it is no surprise that I attended a boarding school my last two years of high school. The situation could not have been more ideal: not only did I feel a sense of independence, but with the guaranteed once-a-month breaks when the institution forced the student body off campus for at least 48 hours, I knew I would receive the needed dose of parental nurturing. However, going to school in Rochester, what used to be common has become an increasingly rare event. Yes, we have Meliora Weekend and, if I really wanted to, I could find some way home, but the underlying issue is inconvenience. More obstacles arise as two destinations grow farther apart, and traveling between Rochester and North Carolina becomes much more inconceivable outside of the university’s longer breaks. It is not that Rochester has forced me to become completely isolated from my blood relatives; I call them at least a couple times a week to make sure my dad is laying off the red meat, my younger siblings are being “appropriate” and that my mom is taking a break every once in a while. My college choice has limited my ability to do these seemingly minute, yet deeply meaningful, actions in person.

Kashika: I’ve often wondered if my education is worth the tens of thousands of dollars of debt I will leave this university with. Up until this summer, I had reconciled myself to the belief that I was going to have to pay my way by myself, on my own merit through scholarships and employment. Then, I read about the decision of Harvard and other universities to remove loans for low-income families. Harvard restructured their financial aid programs so that they now charge a maximum of 10% of a families income for families who make up to $180,000 and gradually lower the rate to zero percent for incomes of $60,000 and below. (To read a Newsweek article about the changes click here). More…Less…

Juanita: When I think of the cost of my education, the first thing that comes to mind is sacrifice. Once I give it further thought, and I have time to reassess everything, I feel like I should be grateful. I feel guilty for not feeling blessed initially. Being a student who is almost fully supported by financial aid has been a double-edged sword. More…Less…

Erin: I hesitate in answering this question for a few reasons. First, our country’s history has given me an inherent advantage that I do not deliberately exploit, but inevitably do. I am an Asian-American female from Hawaii interested in engineering. I hate to question whether I am rewarded for my merit or for my genes so I’d rather not compare the scholarship I’ve been blessed with to what I have accomplished to deserve it. But for the sake of argument, let’s proceed with the assumption that I’ve earned what I received. Even so, I have it easy. My parents worked hard and saved well, so I never had to question whether I would be going to a decent college so long as I wanted to. And lastly, the finances and personal sacrifices I have made seem irrelevant without accounting for what I will gain throughout college. Not only will my degree help make me a competitive candidate in the workforce, but I will have developed an independence far from home, I will have met people who challenged my beliefs, and I will have established, a little more than before, who I am as a person. I could list the amount my parents pay each semester, the interest on my student loan, or even the hours I spend locked away before a midterm. But I am a year and half into my undergraduate studies and I have already made incredible friendships, challenged many of my pre-existing views and even managed to get a taste of the technology I would like to further develop in future years (photovoltaics). So instead, I ask myself, not how much my education is costing me, but rather am I investing enough into my future?

Amy: To me, education cannot simply be defined by the classes I attend, the assignments that I complete or even the college with which I affiliate. To me, education is the very life of an active, knowledge-thirsty mind that never ceases wondering, never stops inquiring and never quits looking for further insights. What, then, does my education cost me? Nothing and everything. There is no price tag on curiosity, no fee for questioning. The start of my educational journey that began with my grandmother’s teaching me to read and the simple question “why?” continues for me throughout every day, regardless of whether I’m sitting in a lecture hall or having a discussion with friends. Intellectual pursuits, however, are not entirely without expense. When the question of what constitutes true freedom of will arises while studying for a psychology midterm and causes me to reassess whether I’m actually living an authentic, self-endorsed life, the resulting self-critique does not come without discomfort. When the desire to reach the bottom of an issue drives me to ask controversial questions in class, there is the knowledge of possible negative reactions that do take their toll. To me, education is life and, as with life, naming its cost is next to impossible: it is priceless and yet demands our utmost.

Jess: I feel like a spoiled brat saying it, but, in terms of money, my education has cost me absolutely nothing. I’ve had no financial aid, scholarships or student loans. I’ve had workaholic parents who have spent their entire adult lives working for the well being of our family. I didn’t get to see much of them growing up though — and I was pretty pissed about it for most of my teen years. Now I understand why they weren’t around, and I appreciate all of the hard work that they’ve done and are doing for everything our family has. There were definitely some rough years where my parents were less happily giving me spending money, but I have been truly blessed with everything that I have.