Money is dirty; it is improper and impolite to discuss your finances with your acquaintances or even those close to you in our culture. Why is this? We live in a capitalistic society in which we consistently consume products in order to showcase our financial successes. This cultural taboo is very present on our campus. Even though we claim to be progressive, we still have trouble discussing issues pertaining to students’ socioeconomic classes and how this impacts their experience on campus.
Connecticut College was recently on a list of schools that The New York Times deemed “economically diverse.” Conn’s website states that the comprehensive fee is $60,895 for the current academic year, and the average financial aid award is $37,300. 52 percent of students are receiving some form of financial aid. Considering the astronomical fee one pays to attend a private college or university in our current era, it is not surprising that many students cannot afford to pay the sticker price.
Yes, Conn has made great strides in allowing students with more diverse socioeconomic backgrounds have access to a top-notch education through financial aid, but how does money (or the lack thereof) impact individual students’ lives on campus? Many often forget that money is an issue for more than half of the student body who are on financial aid in some form or another (the extent of which obviously varies depending on each student’s unique situation). We are not all on an equal financial playing field simply because we are enrolled at the same institution, and many forget this fact because of the relative invisibility of class.
In the beginning of my first year, it was really hard for me to adjust to the sheer amount of wealth on this campus. Let me preface this by saying that I come from a predominantly white, middle class town where many kids had their own cars, a signifier that their families were doing well. Yet, I was still uncomfortable when I began to realize that many of my peers were, in fact, fairly wealthy. I had never before seen such a vast array of luxury vehicles parked in the student parking lots and I felt inferior because of my own financial situation. As I have come to learn how to navigate this space, I understand that this is just a part of life as a student at any elite liberal arts college of a similar caliber; however, that initial culture shock was a doozy as an incoming freshman.
It was also difficult for me to digest that so many students did not work for their own spending money. Throughout high school and college, I have been working in order to cover many of my own personal expenses. In my town, working a part-time minimum wage job was fairly standard. Coming to Conn and learning that many of my peers did not work in high school was shocking, and having to work for money while others did not was strange, particularly because I was living in such close proximity with these students.
This is not to say that this is standard here on campus. Many of my peers work multiple jobs in order to afford books, snacks, transportation and other expenses that accumulate as the years progress. Having worked an off-campus job for 3 semesters (which is virtually unheard of on this campus), I can say that while I often had an abundance of spending money and was able to pay off my car loan, I was consistently stressed and often extremely sleep-deprived from trying to balance my academics, extracurriculars and jobs both on and off campus. Even though I miss having more money, I decided that ultimately my mental health was more important than being able to go out to dinner every weekend or having the option to frequently buy new clothes.
I asked others who are in similar situations how they felt about the relative invisibility of socio-economic class on campus. They all felt that because of the cultural climate and attitude toward money that permeates our culture, they were perceived as having enough money to experience the “typical” Conn lifestyle. I was interested in knowing if they had experienced microaggressions related to money and how that perhaps shaped their lives on this campus.
One student, a white female hailing from a single-parent household, explained that since her freshman year, she has stopped hanging out with people who continually made her feel inferior because of her financial situation. She stated that in her freshman year, someone she had met was shocked that she didn’t have a passport and she was asked, “Isn’t travelling important to you?” The same student also told me that when she confessed to being on financial aid the same year, some students received this negatively and told her that it was “like they put a nice 50% off sticker on [her] acceptance letter,” which made her feel that her peers were suggesting that she was “getting [her] education on clearance.”
Another student stated that she feels frustrated because she “has been buying her own clothes and working since age 13” and that “[we] go to school with people who actually don’t know how to clean a bathroom.”
One student, who identifies as biracial, discussed how discussing study abroad made her “uncomfortable saying that [she] didn’t want to spend money on it” and therefore did not go. She added that “it makes [her] sad and happy to see [her] friends having these amazing experiences abroad and [she wishes] that it was available to [her].” Yes, financial aid does cover tuition for abroad programs, but this does not include plane tickets, spending money, and often meals are not included in certain study abroad programs. We discussed how this was an issue for both of us that ultimately led us to decide that we simply could not afford it.
My limited pool of interviewees does not speak to the volumes of other marginalizing experiences to which students on this campus are subjected. Regrettably, I was only able to discuss this issue with predominantly white women who understood that their whiteness allowed them to pass as of a higher socioeconomic class. Other students whose identities are intersecting and experience multiple oppressions obviously have a far different experience here at Conn. We also only discussed peer interactions, and I’m sure that similar situations have occurred throughout many other areas of campus life.
Inevitably, we all inhabit this extremely privileged space together, yet we do not all come from similar financial backgrounds, which can be troubling for some students attempting to navigate this climate for the first time. It is not to say that change is impossible, but recognizing the range of experiences on campus is an important step to pursuing further conversations that will help to close the gap between students. •
