Emilee McCubbins
Just under three years ago, I stood before a room full of people and bared my soul. At the Board of Trustees meeting, I opened up about the struggles of being a low-income student and the first in my family to make it to college. I exposed my own situation so that students following me would not have to suffer through crying sessions at Financial Aid, decisions to stay on campus and work for spring break or email chains with the Business Office. In front of a room of trustees and peers, I admitted to my very real fear of leaving The College of Wooster prematurely because of a lack of resources to stay, despite fighting with every fiber of my being to continue to be a Fighting Scot.
In the semesters since, I have tried to be the best advocate I can be. I’ve spoken up when staff and faculty ask for feedback. I’ve dedicated as much of myself as I can to SGA so that at least one low-income student is in the conversation. When I had resigned myself to the fact that there was no way I’d make enough money to return next semester, I continued speaking with administrators and working on initiatives and putting on a happy face to those around me. But the thing is, this isn’t enough.
There is good work being done to support students, but we need to look beyond the basics.
The culture of the College is not one that lends itself to flexibility. When taking a semester off, one may not take online courses to keep up with their studies because of a “lack of rigor.” When unable to pay off your student balance, you’re forced to wait to register for classes until the day before the semester begins — if you can get a balance of $2,999 or below, of course — while late fees continue to stack on top of your already looming bill. Ordering official transcripts is also not allowed unless you’re under that financial threshold. When you wish to seek accommodations, you’re expected to have medical record — years of it, at times — to even be entertained.
It’s overwhelming.
To be low-income at a private college is to constantly be vulnerable. Vulnerable to losing opportunities because the school will not release your official transcript. Vulnerable to struggling in class because your family wasn’t able to spend the time and energy diagnosing the attention deficit or learning disability you have. Vulnerable to succumbing to mental health issues because the knowledge that you only have five free counseling appointments is enough to keep you from seeking out help. Vulnerable to being expelled, period, because you are unable to keep up with the insurmountable tuition bills on top of additional financial obligations. Every conversation with a professor or staff member or dean is another series of ripping open wounds to explain your situation.
And while I do not particularly want to, as a fired-up senior, I am willing to again be vulnerable. At present, there is a massive chance I will not be returning next semester. I will not be able to walk with my class come May 11. I will not be day drinking with my friends after months of hard work on I.S. Monday.
I am an independent student. Every penny I pay to the College I earn myself. I do not have private loans, because no one will issue them to me as a student without a parent or guardian by my side. I have absolutely no idea whether or not I will be on this campus next semester. Instead of focusing on my I.S., the goal to which I have been working since I was the eighteen-year-old girl speaking before a room of trustees, I am instead desperately searching for a loophole in a system with no exit, just so I can stay a few more months and not have all the work I’ve done go to waste. I am not the only student like myself.
It’s time for everyone — students, staff, faculty and administration — to examine the ways in which they perpetuate the classism currently present at The College of Wooster. There are countless examples in nearly every department. I would give more, but I am already beyond my word limit. My plea is this: don’t assume that we are all given the luxury of focusing on our weekend plans or an upcoming paper.
There’s no happy ending to this viewpoint. It’s time to cut the shit and start supporting every student.