Hope in an Age of Crisis is IIRON’s economic justice presentation. Download this Powerpoint file and show it to your congregation, community group, or friends & family. A suggested narrative/script is included in the “notes” pages.
by Missy Rubio
I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago in a neighborhood that was built in the 1950s where everyone’s parents worked as laborers, factory workers or were retired military veterans, or both. I watched my parents, a union construction worker and a waitress struggle to pay their bills, feed their children and live a “happy” life on a paycheck-to-paycheck basis. Neither of my parents graduated from high school, so in their eyes, if they worked as hard as they could to keep their children in “good” suburban schools, we would someday make it out of the cycle of poverty through higher education. My parents and teachers told me to just focus on my education and get to college. That was the equation to a better life. If I just went to college, I would achieve what my parents never had the opportunity to achieve, but my story is much different than the story they told.
What my parents did not know then was that my mother would struggle through cancer and lose and that my father would be permanently laid off from building houses as our economy sunk further into the depths of depression as a result of bad lending and risky wall street investment.
My father, alone and stripped of his job, his home and not to mention his dignity fell into a deep depression and left us for his home state of New Mexico after the bank staked the “foreclosed” sign into the neatly trimmed and vibrant green lawn he had prided himself on maintaining. As a second generation Mexican-American my father had, through years of labor in the union, made it out of the grips of poverty and achieved a version of the American dream, only to plummet back into it mid-life. I was 15 and was introduced to the hard reality of the world, but did not lose my will to fight against the tide of injustice and oppression. If anything, these misfortunes only heightened my passion and desire for change. I worked hard both in school and in my two jobs and was able to fulfill my parents’ wishes of attaining a college education.
From the age of 15 until present I have worked full time jobs, as well as part time jobs to provide for myself and to pay for the portion of tuition that my two federal loans and little grants and scholarships did not cover. After 5 years at DePaul I am in $47,000 of student loan debt. This number is frightening. What is more frightening is the fact that the work that I love to do, in the humanities, does not pay even pay a quarter of that amount a year. So the story that my parents, teachers and mentors told me was not true. Hard work in school does not equal security and it is certainly not the path out of poverty.
When I graduate in three months I can either head to graduate school, take out more loans and find myself buried deeper into a pile of student debt, or I can find a job that will pay enough for me to scrape by while I attempt to pay off the pile of debt that I have already accumulated, while it collects interest along the way. Either way, I will be in debt for the best years of my life. This amount of money will impede on my plans to have children and my dream to one day own land. I have been waiting my whole life for that “great job” and, in reality, the American dream. But what I have come to realise is that dream is not available to all of us, it is the dream for the privileged few.
Missy is a senior at Depaul University and a leader with Depaul Students for Justice.
by Amanda Haws
My college journey began at my local community college. I applied for one private loan, which I had no trouble acquiring at the age of 18 in December 2007. Once the market crashed, I could only fill out a FAFSA and hope I was given enough money. Luckily, my tuition costs were so low that I actually got money back after my tuition was paid. Once my two years at community college were over, I decided to pursue a Bachelor’s degree at DePaul University. I filled out the paperwork and assumed that I would be given more money because I was going to a more expensive school. DePaul granted me $11,000, which they said was the most they could give me. A few grants and federal loans later, I was at $22,000. I still needed another $7,000 in order to attend my junior year. My mother ended up taking out 2 Parent PLUS loans for me for the next two years, which she still holds over my head until this day. “Why didn’t I go to a less expensive school?” My question is why can’t I go to whatever school I want if I have the brains to do it? Why is a non-profit university so unaffordable?
After two years at DePaul, I required only one more quarter to graduate because of how my credits transferred. Because this final quarter happened to be in the next calendar year, I was counted as a part time student and thus, I was still not given enough money to finish college. My mom could not afford to take out another loan on her teacher’s salary. I was stuck. Luckily, DePaul Financial Aid applied for an endowed scholarship for me which helped cover all but $400 of my tuition. I nearly emptied my savings to cover the cost.
All throughout college, I went to school full time and worked full time. My parents did very little to help me. My father gave me $1,000 at one point, but this pretty much only covered my books for one year. My mother took out two loans for me, but all of that went towards my tuition. I have lived on my own since I was 18, so not having a single day off for months on end was my only option. I ended up graduating magna cum laude and was on the dean’s list every quarter. Surely this along with my long resume would land me a job right out of college. I searched for two months without so much as a single interview, email, or phone call. I decided that an internship was the only way to gain the experience needed to land a job. Unfortunately, the majority of internships available are unpaid.
So here I am, one month from having to pay back my loans. I am working two jobs below a living wage along with working an unpaid internship. Why is it that the poor are relegated to community colleges and have much less of a choice concerning their education? Why have I not slept for more than 4 years? Does anyone understand what it’s like to have a “useless” degree? That shiny piece of paper on my wall glares at me every day and reminds me of the $30,000 I owe it. I never thought that I would graduate with honors and begin to regret going to college at all.
Amanda Haws is a recent graduate of Depaul University
The IIRON Student Network is committed to organizing power so that we can can act on the best interest of our communities. This past year, we have seen a rise in home foreclosures. These foreclosures hurt our communities, properties sit vacant while families are left homeless. Meanwhile wealthy bankers continue to turn a profit. These are the same bankers that got bailed out a few years ago.
BANKS GOT BAILED OUT, WE GOT SOLD OUT!
We believe that something must be done to stop these home foreclosures and stop the banks current behavior.
In March of 2012, students from across the IIRON Student Network joined together at North Park University to urge Illinois Attorney General, Lisa Madigan, to provide financial relief for homeowners affected by the housing crisis. Hundreds of students and community members gathered to fight for principal reduction. In true ISN fashion, students raised their voices and their chants were heard echoing through Albany Park where more six homes had been foreclosed on one street alone.
WE ARE THE 99%
The issue of home foreclosure has not been forgotten. Ed DeMarco is currently leading the Federal Housing Finance Agency. Ed DeMarco has continued to block principal reduction and we believe it’s time for DeMarco to go. You can join us in calling the president and telling him to, “Dump DeMarco!”
Anonymous (photo by sarahstarkweather)
As I drew near to the end of my undergraduate degree, I had a clear path in mind for my life. I wanted to work in the field of academia. In order to do this, I knew that it was necessary to continue in school and to earn a PhD. Over the last 11 years I worked to reach this goal of completing a PhD and to become a professor at a university. In doing so I tallied up nearly $200,000 in student loans in order to pay for my education, my books, and to be able to survive.
As I worked toward this goal, faculty and staff encouraged me and suggested that once the degree was done the jobs would be there. However, the reality of the situation is that there are not many open full-time faculty positions available and the number is decreasing rapidly. Many of our institutions of education are foregoing hiring full-time faculty and are instead hiring persons holding PhD’s or PhD candidates as adjuncts to teach one or two classes at a time, paying only around $2,000 a class. The absurdity of this idea is that a college instructor at the adjunct position then makes less than $130 a week per class for a standard 16 week course. It is impossible for a person to live on this sort of money, let alone pay off nearly $200,000 in debt. The American college system is going toward this system of education in order to save money on paying faculty while at the same time requiring the same, if not more, work from them.
While I understood going into this line of work that the competition would be fierce, I was also told that as long as I followed the steps and earned the degrees a job would be there for me. But now I sit on top of a mountain of debt with no job prospects in sight. The field is flooded with many graduates in my same situation and our colleges and universities are decreasing our job opportunities or reducing us to little better than slave labor. How can we continue to educate the future generations properly when we are burdened by working multiple jobs in order to pay our debt? How will an overworked, underpaid faculty member be of any benefit to a group of students to whom they are indebted for their education? When will this country realize that burdening its young people with exorbitant amounts of debt just to achieve their academic goals is a failure on the part of its leaders? What will we do to make a change?
by Aija Nemer-Aanerud
I come from a low-income family, raised just by my dad. I’ve watched my dad struggle my whole life to make ends meet. For as long as I can remember, he’s worked odd jobs – as a custodian, a gardener, a handyman – to make sure he somehow has enough money at the end of the month to pay rent. And through all that, I’ve watched him feel shame for not being more of a success, despite how hard he was working all along. And I don’t think that’s right.
Since I’ve grown up some, I’ve come to understand the truth of the matter – that the system is rigged against him. He wasn’t born one of the wealthy, one of those people with connections, or as someone who knows how to manipulate the system to get ahead, so he’s been at a disadvantage.
As a kid, I wanted nothing more than to grow up and have a steady income, to not have to worry every month about where the rent was gonna come from – and to be able to provide for my dad who’s worked so hard for me. And now I’m in college, really lucky to be going to the University of Chicago. But I don’t know what’ll happen when I graduate; I don’t know if there’ll be jobs out there for me. Unemployment and underemployment for people in my age group is at 47%. As someone who knows what it’s like to live just scraping by, this terrifies me. I think I’m doing relatively well considering current economic conditions, but I live in constant fear of slipping down.
But I keep the faith that it’ll all be fine. Even as someone who knows the numbers and meets the many people they represent, I still think, “It’s okay, it won’t be me. I’m different.” I’m going to finish school, I’m going to continue saving all that I can, and I’m gonna believe that I can find a way to create value in the world and land a job. Those times when the neoliberal “pick yourself up by your bootstraps” narrative is especially strong, this feels like all I can do.
But I know it isn’t, and I know it’s not enough. So I’m going to keep fighting. This is a structural issue; it’s not that there may not be a job for me – there aren’t jobs for millions of people out there. We can change this, and if our government won’t live up to this responsibility on its own, I, along with my brothers and sisters in this fight, will help get it there. Cause I, for one, don’t wanna have to live in fear any longer.
Aija is a student at the University of Chicago and is a leader in both the IIRON Student Network and her campus organization, Southside Solidarity Network.
by anonymous University of Chicago Alumni, photo by Michael Fleshman
I grew up in a small town being sure that I would go off and do something great when I grew up. I did well in school and my parents told me that with my grades, the whole world was my oyster. I was always encouraged to go away to college, to the “best” place I could possibly get in to. So when I got accepted to one of the best schools in the country, it was never a question that I would take the loans I needed to go. I would have gone to school nearly for free if I had stayed in-state, but my family thought it would be a waste of opportunity. I was “smart,” and my parents and I were equally sure that a smart kid at a good school was a sure ticket to a fulfilling and well-paying future.
I graduated magna cum laude in 2010 and moved from Chicago to Boston, where I quickly found that the straight shot from good school to employment was nearly nonexistent. I started working three jobs in order to make my loan payments, which are $800 a month. I moved back to Chicago for cheaper rent and more social support. My loans still take 75% of the income that I make–60% in a good month. I’m starting graduate school in the fall because I feel called to ministry, but I worry that I won’t make enough to pay my loans back. I’ve never defaulted and I’ve scrabbled together enough to pay them and still eat, so I know I’m lucky, but I’m scared that my loans will be the biggest thing I leave to my children.
by Lilly Osbourne
What does Loyola University of Chicago stand for? When you visit the Loyola webpage, you see words like “Justice,” “Community,” and “Ethics” thrown around a lot, especially in the name of a truly Jesuit Catholic education. So from the outside looking in, it’s easy to believe that my school has virtuous standards; it stands for social justice in the student community, and our larger Chicago community, as well.
While prospective students may not wonder outright about Loyola’s integrity, the subject lies at the heart of financial considerations when making the decision to attend college; we hope the university will make the most judicious decisions possible to ease the ever-growing burden of tuition and expenses. But we often become subject to the thought process that tuition and expenses can’t be helped: we blame the economy for the 53% of college graduates who are either unemployed or underemployed, inflation that does not account for the scale of tuition increases, and especially at Loyola, we love to blame the budget. In the last two years, Loyola has increased the tuition rate by 3% twice, along with similar percentage increases in housing and student activity fees, all in the name of a “carefully scrutinized budget.” And when the administration explains the increase is in our overall interest, we trust its decision and we trust its integrity. So when the Loyola administration decided to implement new meal plans that will cost $3,360 per year, an increase of 150% for the cheapest option, we were shocked. Not only are on-campus students forced to purchase a meal plan, which directly targets the on-campus living requirement for freshmen and sophomores, but the increased price will also not go to improving the quality of what we are supposedly buying— that is, the food.
When the student organization Loyola Organized in Action sat down with Dr. Rob Kelly, VP of Student Affairs, to figure out where the money would be going, he was mostly unsure, despite being the person responsible for signing the contract. Eventually he told us the money would go to new buildings, namely the new Quinlan School of Business. And if that doesn’t sound ethical to you, that’s okay, because it doesn’t sound very ethical to us either, not only because our money should go towards what we’re paying for, and because the university should obviously not build buildings it cannot afford, but especially because the university is not in the financial and budgetary trouble the administration claims it is. Remember that business school? Loyola just received a $40 million donation to build it. Clearly, Loyola has “carefully scrutinized” the budget, and decided that saddling the already downtrodden student population with debt, for the “greater good” and proliferation of the university’s name, is perfectly acceptable. And we trusted them.
So when you wonder what all that social justice jargon is doing on the university webpage, I’ll make it plain. First off, it’s not because Loyola truly cares about students or the community, because, make no mistake, student debt only oppresses students, driving them and the community they come from into the ground. And that social justice jargon is not just trying to attract you to our utopian, moral compound on the lakeshore, either. It’s telling you to trust the administration, to trust our saint and President, Father Michael Garanzini. So when he says he did his best to make your $100,000 education, that will leave you debt-ridden, jobless, and overqualified at Home Depot, as affordable as possible, you smile and say, “Thank you, Father.”
Lilly Osbourne is an active member of Loyola Organized in Action and the IIRON Student Network.
Members from Loyola Organized in Action have been speaking out about a new meal plan that is set to go into place next year. The new meal plan would be required for all freshman and sophomore students and would cost an exorbitant amount. These students would be required to pay $9,000 for food during their first two years at Loyola University Chicago.
The administration has admitted that the money raised from this cost increase will not go to food, but rather new buildings.
You can join Loyola Organized in Action at 4:45pm this Friday on the lakeshore campus quad. Details here.