Money Matters: My Journey Through Princeton
The worst grade I have ever gotten was a C in writing when I was in fifth grade. I have never forgotten the day I brought that report card home. Boy, was my mother angry! She relentlessly told my sisters and me that we had to get good grades.
As a fifth grader, I never questioned my mother—her words were law. It wasn’t until my father was deported that I understood that good grades were a necessity. I had been brought to the United States to study and anything short of a bachelor’s degree would be letting my family’s sacrifices be in vain. I also knew that my mother could not contribute financially at all to my or my sister’s college education. I would have to get scholarships and that meant no more C’s or even B’s, ever.
Jessica as a child (3rd from the left) with her family in Merrill, Oregon.
JESSICA COBIANMy father's absence hit us hard and my family dealt with it in different ways. I indulged my life with books and sports. If I wasn’t in the library reading, I was in the gym putting up some shots on the basketball court. Through grit, hard work, and the grace of God, I found Leadership Enterprise for a Diverse America (LEDA). With the help and support of LEDA, I was accepted into the Princeton Class of 2021.
A large part of why I decided to attend Princeton was the generous financial aid package that I received and the programs it had to help low-income students. My journey through Princeton, however, has been an adjustment. Funds granted to students from the university are only accessible once classes start and it can take up to a week longer for students to get access to these funds. The problem is that students move-in, get syllabi, and are expected to buy materials up to a week before classes start. Because I depend on this money for school, I often do not have books, notebooks, and dorm essentials at the beginning of every semester. This means that I usually have twice as much reading to complete during the first weekend of classes,because it is not until the first week is almost over that I have my books.
Fall move-in is particularly hard, because I usually move in a week before classes start, and then have to wait an additional week for funds, leaving me with two weeks of little food. This past fall, I managed to survive a week off of a bag of bagels and honey. Everyone says, “I’m broke,” but it feels more trendy than realistic. Broke is obsessively checking your bank account to see if you can afford an outing. Broke is stepping away to call your sisters to Venmo you money so that you can afford food for the week. Broke is being conscious of every dollar that goes in and out of your bank account.
In addition to struggling to meet basic needs, attempting to fit into an elite college can be a challenge. Social life at Princeton revolves around eating clubs, which are similar to fraternities and sororities. They are social clubs housed in mansions on the edge of campus, and in addition to a place to eat, they are the center of most of the social life at Princeton. Membership varies per club, ranging from $8,900 to $10,450. While some clubs have made efforts to be more inclusive to low-income students, and financial aid packages cover a part of the costs, these spaces are inherently filled with elitism. They are spaces that do not consider me worthy— spaces in which I do not feel like I belong. I cannot imagine having the ability to spend upwards of $10,000 on meals and social benefits, when this compromises a significant portion of my family’s income. If you choose to not participate in eating club culture—because of the cost, exclusivity, and unwelcome environment—you are inundated with reminders on social media that you weren’t there.
While it might seem like an optional social aspect of college—your network matters. If you connect with peers and alumni through eating clubs, you have access to internships, jobs, and other things that can bolster your career. If you don’t, it’s an added layer of things you don’t have in common with your peers. This only further perpetuates feelings of loneliness on campus knowing it is a shared experience for many students and alumni that I will never be a part of. While other colleges might not have hyper-elite spaces like eating clubs, students like me are sent messages that they don’t belong in other ways. However, it doesn’t have to be like this because we DO belong. I know that I bring immense value to this campus and the broader Princeton community.
Here’s my recommendation for how colleges can take steps to make it easier for students like me to transition through college:
- Make funds available to students one week before the start of classes. This will allow students to have enough time to buy any necessary materials to prepare for classes without getting behind.
- Create and have food pantries available for students throughout the semester and especially during key dates like move-in, start of the term, and breaks.
- Recognize elite and exclusive spaces on your campus and find ways to be more inclusive for all students. At the very least, create better alternatives. Alternatives should target access to social and career networks, which members of exclusive memberships benefit from, but low-income students often get left out from.
