We’ve been talking about the death and legacy of Rush Limbaugh, suffering residents of Texas, Ted Cruz’s disappearing act, and the continuation of the pandemic. As for said topics, I don’t think these news stories can be better augmented by my contribution. Briefly, I will say that I’ve stayed away from condemning Limbaugh wholesale because I don’t want to turn him into a martyr figure for the Right. I’d rather refer to Proverbs 24:17-18, which reads, “Don’t rejoice when your enemies fall; don’t be happy when they stumble. For the Lord will be displeased with you and will turn his anger away from them.”
And that’s as much oxygen as I will give him. Take that for what you will. It’s not in our hands anymore.
I’d much rather talk about an issue that has been lingering in the background, a serpent coiled under the table, a ticking time-bomb that is burning out and emotionally taxing people of my generation and younger. That issue is ridiculous student loan debt. Biden wants $10,000 to be forgiven. Democrats in Congress want to forgive upwards of $50,000. Biden is, so far, keeping to his campaign promise, to the consternation of many on the progressive Left.
As for canceling student loan debt, I think the issue is being vastly oversimplified. Higher ed is broken in many, many ways and being that I have several people with whom I worship and call friends who are college professors or are retired college professors, I won't embarrass myself by trying to sound like an expert. What I will say is that universities have become very top-heavy, packed full of redundant departments and needless middle-management positions. One could argue that providing jobs to anyone is a basic service, but I think higher ed has gone too far. And as for my college professor friends, they often feel caught in the middle, unable to change policies, and fighting for the rights they do receive and are granted.
Speaking for myself, I borrowed $20,000 to go to grad school and would still be paying it off had it not been completely forgiven some years ago. But no one would want to qualify for it on the unintentionally humbling terms that went into total and permanent disability status. I can't work at all. I can't even work at McDonald's. Fortunately, a sympathetic psychiatrist filled out an unsurprisingly not easy to locate form, and I was able to sock away more money from what is a very modest monthly disability check of slightly less than $1,200. Every dollar counts for me.
If by some miracle my disabilities went away by magic, a doctor would have to sign off first, before any funds to be used towards tuition, books, or housing would be dispensed. And assuming I could convince a doctor to do that, talked into signing those forms, the money I received could never be totally wiped away again like it was the first time. I had to put aside many dreams and aspirations and pare down my expectations. It wasn’t easy to choke it all down. The disappointment, while largely put aside, still flares up from time to time, as do my illnesses.
This is always why I take such offense when people accuse me of leeching off the system and not working. I wish I could work, but with every failed attempt, I gravitated to one dysfunctional workplace environment after another. Without a stable work history and adequate references, I usually had to take what I could get. And what I could get further re-traumatized me, step by step. The circumstances of my final termination were so humiliating that I knew I couldn’t take on another one. And this is what made me into the crusader for disability rights into which my circumstances have molded me.
Here’s my main point. Disabled or not, what I will say is that I simply don't believe that giving vast sums of money to very young people without first teaching them adequate money management skills is a good idea. Even so-called adults lack this capacity, often at no fault of their own. When I was barely out of my teens, I signed a few forms, with a minimum of scrutiny, oversight, or wise counsel, and was quickly entrusted with more money than I had ever seen at one time before. I was given no guidance as to sensible ways to spend it (or better yet, not to spend it). Some students are given three and four times more than that, at even younger ages than I was.
My ex-wife borrowed $80,000 for a two year Master’s program at an elite university. Though we don’t exactly speak now, last I heard she was working at a job where she wasn’t able to use any of the skills she had once thought vitally important to further her career. And she is not alone. When a close family member died, she inherited several thousand dollars, but could not formally transfer the money into her direct possession, because doing so would have had an immediate negative financial impact. It would have dramatically raised her income-based student loan payments to untenable levels. Now the money languishes in the financial netherworld, tied up in a trust, unable to be used to purchase a home and build equity. And I bet she’s not alone.
Much needs to be changed. Higher education was already a mess before COVID. With the pandemic, college professors are retiring as quickly as they can. Administrators, especially at smaller colleges and universities, are feeling the financial pinch and working themselves to death to keep them afloat and financial solvent. Many of these colleges and universities, particularly liberal arts schools, were already teetering on the brink of total collapse. The pandemic accelerated existing trends.
We still live in a country where, even in 2021, a relatively small minority, 35% of us, have achieved a bachelor’s degree. Obtaining one through hard work and devotion to scholarly pursuits is still thought of as an essential component of social mobility. Unless we can school young people into career paths that line them up neatly for employment, many will fail in their endeavors, multiple times. Many will spend ample time in the wilderness, resume fishing, or toiling in jobs that pay the bills but simply aren’t the best use of their talents. This is still a country made for the wealthy and privileged. And, to use a truism, just like getting a job, it’s all in who you know. Or all in who you don’t know.
