The Crushing Weight of Higher Education
It’s disheartening, isn’t it? To see young people starting their adult lives already so heavily burdened. I remember when Bernard and I were finishing school...
It’s disheartening, isn’t it? To see young people starting their adult lives already so heavily burdened. I remember when Bernard and I were finishing school – not a worry in the world about crippling debt hanging over our heads. Education was an investment, certainly, but one that felt genuinely achievable with some careful planning and a reasonable amount of work. Now? It feels like you’re signing up for indentured servitude before you even have a chance to find out what you enjoy doing.
I taught at the university for thirty-four years, and over those decades I watched this shift happen. Slowly at first, almost imperceptible. Then more rapidly, year after year. The cost of tuition crept upwards seemingly without limit, while salaries for instructors – particularly adjuncts – remained stubbornly stagnant. It was a conversation we had frequently in the faculty lounge, a low hum of frustration underlying our shared love of teaching and concern for our students. We felt helpless, frankly, like cogs in a machine we didn’t control.
And what about the degrees themselves? There's this subtle but persistent devaluation happening with certain fields of study. My own area – humanities – has borne some of that brunt. A bright student would come to me, full of passion for literature or history, only to be met with concerns from their parents: "What will you *do* with that?" As if a love of learning, a critical mind, and the ability to communicate effectively aren’t valuable in themselves. It’s heartbreaking to see a young person's enthusiasm dampened by pragmatic pressures.
It feels, too, like there is a two-tiered system emerging. Some degrees are marketed as “professional” – practically guaranteeing lucrative careers – while others are quietly relegated to the margins. And of course, those "professional" degrees come with professional price tags—a staggering amount for something that isn’t even guaranteed to translate into a job afterwards. The expectation is now that you must invest an enormous sum in this pathway to success, yet often those expectations fall flat for many.
You see, I believe we've arrived at a point where the very structure of higher education needs to be rethought. The ease with which loans are made—and how they’re marketed– has unintentionally incentivized institutions to raise prices. It's a cycle, and it’s trapping generations of young people in a web of debt that is almost impossible to escape. I find myself wondering if government backing of these loans has been more detrimental than helpful. Certainly there needs to be help for students - but has the system itself become part of the problem?
Phyllis and I were discussing this just last week, during our equinox gathering in the backyard. We watched the honeybees buzzing around the lavender, a quiet sense of industry about them, and she remarked how even they seemed to have more financial security than many of today’s graduates! It was intended as a joke, of course, but there was a grain of truth to it. This isn't just an economic issue; it is a moral one. We are jeopardizing the future for these young people because we haven't had the courage – or perhaps the vision – to address the root causes.
Bernard’s always been good with numbers, and he tries to explain the complexities of fiscal policy to me. It’s often over my head, I confess. But even he recognizes that something fundamental has shifted. He says it's a reflection of larger societal trends: increased inequality, corporate influence, a focus on short-term gains at the expense of long-term sustainability. I don’t always understand all the nuances, but I see the consequences playing out right before my eyes.
I look back now, at those years of teaching, and wish that I had been more vocal about this—that we *all* hadn't felt so powerless. Perhaps if there had been a louder, more insistent chorus demanding change, things might be different. It’s not too late to start the conversation again, though – especially with these young people who are facing such enormous challenges. We owe it to them to find a better path forward, one where education remains a gateway to opportunity, not a shackle around their necks.