The price of an American education

US student Hana Bieliauskas reveals the terrible financial cost of getting a college education acros

College tuition costs in the United States are continuing to skyrocket, making many students question whether they want to pursue further education.

Although enrolment has increased in recent years, and students are emerging with impressive degrees, they also have empty wallets and are no longer able to enjoy simply easing into the workplace.

For many graduates, landing a job within months, or even weeks, of graduation becomes essential to afford a decent meal - much less move out of home.

Thirty years ago, students financed their education during four years of college by simply working a part-time job during school, or even with their summer job earnings. In 1977-78, the cost of attending a public four-year college was $1,936, including tuition, fees, room and board.

Today, the cost has risen over $10,000 to about $13,000 a year. The changes are even more disturbing in the case of private universities. Costs have increased from about $4,000 in 1977-78 to nearly $30,400 in 2006-07. Multiply those numbers by four, or often five, years, and you have the cost an American student usually pays for their undergraduate education. And if they want to obtain postgraduate degrees? Tack on a few more zeroes to those already large figures.

No wonder credit card debt is running rampant and almost every student has multiple loans, while many young Americans are opting out of higher education and into minimum wage jobs. Either way, it's a financial struggle.

Two-year, primarily commuter schools, have the lowest tuition costs overall across the country, and they are the only ones who haven't increased tuition by exorbitant amounts over the last decade. On average, since 1998, two-year colleges have increased their tuition by less than $1000, which is significantly less than their four-year counterparts.

These schools, often considered community colleges and trade schools, are often the only ones students not in the economic middle or upper class can attend. Especially when students are funding the entire education by themselves without family contribution, the government often doesn't provide enough aid to cover the many expenses of a four-year school.

The funding provided by federal government generally takes little out of the total tuition cost, and financial aid at the state level differs from state to state. Both at the federal and state levels, a student's socio-economic status, race and gender may be determining factors in what colleges they apply for and are correspondingly accepted into.

It is almost always significantly cheaper for students to attend schools within their home states because then they are only required to pay in-state tuition costs. About 81 percent of students attending college in the U.S. attend in-state schools. However, sometimes scholarships and grants can offset the nearly $10,000 on average that students wishing to attend out-of-state public institutions must pay. In the case of private colleges, scholarships, federal and state aid, grants and tax benefits usually reduce the price by about $9,000, which helps lessen the financial burden but certainly doesn't eliminate it.

The only place where high school graduates may not have to worry about whether they go in or out-of-state for college are those who reside in the nation's capitol. In 2002, the Senate approved the spending of $17 million on a tuition assistance program for Washington, D.C., residents,citing the city's lack of a traditional college system as a reason.

The federal government provides up to $10,000 to compensate for the difference between in-state and out-of-state tuition costs for students who live in D.C. It also provides a $2,500 stipend for students who want to attend private, in-state institutions, and an additional $2,500 in assistance for a resident who chooses to attend any historically black college in the nation.

Race has always been a controversial issue in American education. According to the 2003 U.S. Census, of the 16.6 million enrolled college students, 68 percent were white, 13 percent black, seven percent Asian and 10 percent Hispanic. With the three latter groups experiencing the highest rates of poverty and earning the lowest salaries, there's no arguing that huge educational discrepancies certainly still exist.

One proposed way to solve the race problem has been through affirmative action, which involves giving minority students some type of special opportunity when it comes to admission. Often, colleges will reserve a certain number of spaces in admissions for minority students every year, or have scholarships that only they are eligible for.

However, affirmative action has been hotly debated, especially after a landmark 2003 case involving the University of Michigan. The U.S. Supreme Court eventually ruled that race can be a factor considered by colleges for a student's admission because it furthers "a compelling interest in obtaining the educational benefits that flow from a diverse student body."

However, the Court also ruled that the university must modify its admissions' point system, which gave extra points to minority students. Although many people argue that all students should be treated the same in the eyes of college admissions, with no consideration of race, others believe affirmative action is necessary to achieve diversity in higher learning facilities and ensure everyone has an equal chance of getting a college education.

Many American students choose to attend college directly after their senior year of high school, and the college selection process is often very elaborate, involving travels across the nation to investigate schools. A college's location plays a huge part in how much it costs. Four-year New England schools traditionally are the most expensive and western ones usually cost the least. Attending a private, New England school is usually around $30,000 a year - and that's before adding on living expenses that most college students incur.

When choosing a college, the location, price and choice of majors are often top considerations, as well as characteristics of the student body and, if private, the school's religious affiliation. Many students' “dream” schools may be in their reach academically, but, if they are out-of-state, have a positive reputation and are located in one of the more expensive regions, it might be completely out of reach financially, even after government aid.

Only through taking out many hefty student loans, if eligible, are students without proper funding able to attend top colleges. And they better be happy there because they'll be paying for it later!

The enrolment numbers are up, as are the massive spanking-new sports facilities, at American colleges. Exactly where is the money going from college tuition, and just when is it going to stop escalating? When I was 17 and checking out colleges, I admit I was impressed by the attractive landscaping and sprawling recreational centres at my perspective schools.

Who wouldn't want an indoor track, climbing wall and too many basketball courts to count? But, if American universities keep planting and building, pretty soon no one is going to be able to afford a higher education. The four best years of a college student's life are going to be paid for heavily by being stuck in an office to pay back loans. If America wants to be educated, then everyone needs to have access to a quality education that doesn't suck away all their future savings.

Hana Bieliauskas is a junior at Ohio University majoring in magazine journalism. She is currently studying in London.
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In defence of orientalism, the case against Twenty20, and why Ken should watch Son of Saul

My week, from Age Concern to anti-semitism.

Returning late from a party I never much wanted to go to, I leap up and down in the middle of the Harrow Road in the hope of flagging down a taxi, but the drivers don’t notice me. Either they’re haring down the fast lane or they’re too preoccupied cursing Uber to one another on their mobile phones. My father drove a black cab, so I have a deep loyalty to them. But there’s nothing like being left stranded in NW10 in the dead of night to make one reconsider one’s options. I just wish Uber wasn’t called Uber.

Just not cricket

Tired and irritable, I spend the next day watching sport on television – snooker, darts, cricket, anything I can find. But I won’t be following the Indian Premier League’s Twenty20 cricket again. It’s greedy, cynical, over-sponsored and naff. Whenever somebody hits a boundary, cheerleaders in cast-off gym kit previously worn by fourth-form Roedean girls wave tinsel mops.

Matches go to the final over where they’re decided in a thrashathon of sixes hit by mercenaries wielding bats as wide as shovels. Why, in that case, don’t both teams just play a final over each and dispense with the previous 19? I can’t wait for the elegant ennui of a five-day Test match.

Stop! Culture police!

I go to the Delacroix exhibition at the National Gallery to shake off the sensation of all-consuming kitsch. Immediately I realise I have always confused Delacroix with someone else but I can’t decide who. Maybe Jacques-Louis David. The show convincingly argues that Delacroix influenced every artist who came after him except Jeff Koons, who in that case must have been influenced by David. It’s turbulent, moody work, some of the best of it, again to my surprise, being religious painting with the religion taken out. Christ’s followers lamenting his death don’t appear to be expecting miracles. This is a man they loved, cruelly executed. The colours are the colours of insupportable grief.

I love the show but wish the curators hadn’t felt they must apologise for Delacroix finding the North Africans he painted “exotic”. Cultural studies jargon screams from the wall. You can hear the lecturer inveighing against the “appropriating colonial gaze” – John Berger and Edward Said taking all the fun out of marvelling at what’s foreign and desirable. I find myself wondering where they’d stand on the Roedean cheer-leaders of Mumbai.

Taking leave of the senses

My wife drags me to a play at Age Concern’s headquarters in Bloomsbury. When I see where she’s taking me I wonder if she plans to leave me there. The play is called Don’t Leave Me Now and is written by Brian Daniels. It is, to keep it simple, about the effects of dementia on the families and lovers of sufferers. I am not, in all honesty, expecting a good time. It is a reading only, the actors sitting in a long line like a board of examiners, and the audience hunched forward in the attitude of the professionally caring.  My wife is a therapist so this is her world.

Here, unlike in my study, an educated empathy prevails and no one is furious. I fear that art is going to get lost in good intention. But the play turns out to be subtly powerful, sympathetic and sharp, sad and funny; and hearing it read engages me as seeing it performed might not have done. Spared the spectacle of actors throwing their bodies around and singing about their dreams against a backdrop painted by a lesser, Les Mis version of Delacroix, you can concentrate on the words. And where dementia is the villain, words are priceless.

Mixing with the proles

In Bloomsbury again the next day for a bank holiday design and craft fair at Mary Ward House. I have a soft spot for craft fairs, having helped run a craft shop once, and I feel a kinship with the designers sitting bored behind their stalls, answering inane questions about kilns and receiving empty compliments. But it’s the venue that steals the show, a lovely Arts and Crafts house, founded in the 1890s by the novelist Mary Ward with the intention of enabling the wealthy and educated to live among the poor and introduce them to the consolations of beauty and knowledge. We’d call that patronising. We’re wrong. It’s a high ideal, to ease the burden of poverty and ignorance and, in Ward’s words, save us from “the darker, coarser temptations of our human road”.

An Oscar-winning argument for Zionism

Speaking of which, I am unable to empty my mind of Ken Livingstone and his apologists as I sit in the cinema and watch the just-released Academy Award-winning Son of Saul, a devastating film about one prisoner’s attempt to hold on to a vestige of humanity in a Nazi death camp. If you think you know of hell from Dante or Michelangelo, think again. The inferno bodied forth in Son of Saul is no theological apportioning of justice or deserts. It is the evisceration of meaning, the negation of every grand illusion about itself mankind has ever harboured. There has been a fashion, lately, to invoke Gaza as proof that the Holocaust is a lesson that Jews failed to learn – as though one cruelty drives out another, as though suffering is forfeit, and as though we, the observers, must choose between horrors.

I defy even Livingstone to watch this film, in which the Jews, once gassed, become “pieces” – Stücke – and not grasp the overwhelming case for a Jewish place of refuge. Zionism pre-dated the camps, and its fulfilment, if we can call it that, came too late for those millions reduced to the grey powder mountains the Sonderkommandos were tasked with sweeping away. It diminishes one’s sympathy for the Palestinian cause not a jot to recognise the arguments, in a world of dehumanising hate, for Zionism. Indeed, not to recognise those arguments is to embrace the moral insentience whose murderous consequence Son of Saul confronts with numbed horror. 

This article first appeared in the 05 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The longest hatred