Attending college is meant to pave the way for a more prosperous future. However, the expense of obtaining a degree has become a financial burden, dragging down borrowers from graduation day until retirement—assuming retirement is even attainable.
The weight of student loan debt is a challenge that nearly 3 out of 4 American borrowers claim has compelled them to postpone significant life milestones—whether it's purchasing a home, starting a family, or tying the knot, as per the latest Gallup Lumina Foundation Cost of College report.
"I've had to set aside all of my aspirations and concentrate on getting through each day," shared Jes Evans, 35, with CNN. Despite earning a master's in religious studies in 2017 with hopes of becoming a college instructor, she struggled to find relevant employment post-graduation and faced difficulties securing jobs in unrelated fields due to lack of experience.
Evans, currently employed as a director of youth programs and communications at a church north of Pittsburgh, feels ensnared by her debt, which demands $940 monthly payments.
"It feels like you're merely surviving, without any progress in life... I couldn't explore, couldn't start a family due to financial constraints. It's an uphill battle."
Evans' situation is not unique.
Numerous respondents to a CNN inquiry on social media this week revealed that their student debt has severely impacted their credit ratings and depleted their earnings. Many nearing retirement age expressed doubts about ever being able to cease working, resigned to carrying their debt until their final days.
"Affordability is the primary concern when individuals decide against pursuing higher education," noted Courtney Brown, leading the Gallup Lumina study for the past four years.
"When individuals are burdened by this debt, it's not just about delaying family plans or homeownership; it also stifles entrepreneurship, and that's detrimental. We rely on local businesses and innovation, and this obstacle poses a significant threat."
According to the Gallup Lumina poll, one in three students currently enrolled in higher education or post-secondary programs in the United States has contemplated halting their studies in the past six months. Among them, 31% attribute their consideration to cost, ranking behind emotional strain and personal mental health concerns.
"People aspire to attain a degree—it's not a lack of appreciation," remarked Brown, serving as the vice president of impact and planning at the Lumina Foundation, a non-profit dedicated to enhancing engagement in post-secondary education. "I believe their frustration is growing, not just due to the exorbitant expense, but also due to the complexity of determining the true cost."
The limits of debt relief
Escalating tuition expenses have begun reshaping perceptions regarding the worth of a college diploma. Back in 2015, over half—57%—of Americans expressed "a great deal" or "quite a lot" of confidence in higher education, as per a distinct Gallup study. However, last year, that confidence plummeted to a record low of 36%. While the Gallup study didn't delve into the reasons for this declining trust, it acknowledged that soaring costs "likely contribute significantly."
A fraction of the issue lies in the vastness of the US higher education system, where numerous nonprofit institutions vie for enrollment and talent. Moreover, a considerable portion of affluent and middle-class parents are willing to shell out top dollar—or even accumulate debt themselves—to provide their children with the best possible education.
Critics of the Biden administration's proposals for student loan forgiveness argue that erasing debt fails to address the underlying problem and could potentially incentivize universities to further hike tuition fees.
The White House has already pardoned a staggering $153 billion in federal student loan debt, extending a financial reprieve to millions of borrowers.
Upon receiving an email from the Department of Education last week, Josh, a resident of Oregon who preferred not to disclose his last name to CNN, initially reacted with bewilderment. However, his confusion swiftly gave way to elation as he discovered the reason: He qualified for loan forgiveness.
"Upon reading those words—that I now met the requirements, having fulfilled the requisite number of monthly payments...I was utterly astonished," he remarked. "I can't adequately convey the sense of relief that after 24 years of struggle, there's a glimmer of hope that it might finally come to an end."
Despite his cautious optimism, Josh refrains from allowing himself to fully embrace the possibility, citing ongoing legal challenges to Biden's SAVE plan. Yet, in fleeting moments of contemplation about life unburdened by debt, he envisions purchasing a home with his spouse.
The dream of retirment
While Biden's forgiveness of $153 billion in debt is certainly remarkable, it barely scratches the surface of the trillion-plus dollars owed in federal debt.
Since 2007, individuals employed by the government or a nonprofit have had the opportunity to alleviate their debt burden through the Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) program. However, not all public sector employees meet the criteria.
Amy Coody, a social worker at a maximum-security women's prison in Wetumpka, Alabama, finds herself ineligible for PSLF due to her employment through a third-party contractor rather than directly by the state.
"Despite working within the prison system and interacting with inmates, they deemed it ineligible for public service," she explained. "After 21 years of loan payments, retirement feels like an unreachable dream at this rate."
Borrowers who opted for private loans or transferred their debt to private lenders for consolidation also find themselves excluded from loan forgiveness.
This exclusion is a source of acute frustration for Ralph Davis, a 64-year-old chiropractor from Savannah, Georgia. While he harbors no ill will towards those fortunate enough to have their debt erased, he can't help but perceive a fundamental unfairness within the Biden initiatives.
Having graduated from chiropractic college in 1986 with approximately $30,000 in federal student loans, Davis was advised to consolidate his debts through a private lender. Subsequently, he accrued an additional $40,000 in debt while pursuing an additional degree at a for-profit college, although he ultimately abandoned the program due to continuous curriculum alterations.
However, because Davis consolidated his debt through a private lender, he remains ineligible for federal forgiveness programs.
Despite his acceptance of the situation and his reluctance to rely on a miraculous solution to absolve his debt, Davis remains acutely aware of being left behind, resigned to the likelihood of spending another nine years clearing his loans.
"I willingly entered into these agreements to further my career—no one forced my hand," he emphasized. "Since graduating from my doctoral program in '86, and throughout my additional education... even during the pandemic, I've made consistent payments."
Nevertheless, Davis lamented that "virtually every penny I've paid over the past four decades has gone towards interest," acknowledging the inevitable postponement of retirement plans.
