Student loan forgiveness: Where does empathy fit in?
The author (far left) pictured with his family, including (from left) his father, Kenneth; his grandmother, Vivian; and his brothers, Denzel and James.
Courtesy of Ken J. Makin
Discussion of student loan forgiveness is starting to heat up again. Next month, the Department of Education is expected to provide guidelines for implementing the debt relief President Joe Biden announced on Aug. 24. Legal challenges are all but guaranteed, with the first one filed on Tuesday and another today by six Republican-led states.
But, for me, the discussion isn’t about logistics or legalities. Instead, it reminds me of my late brother, James. I’ve been a writer for almost 20 years, but fun fact – my younger brother was the one with the communications degree. He had the type of full-grinned, contagious belly laugh that endeared him to people. Whether in college or the workforce, he had the personality and “people skills” that turned the most minuscule of moments into unforgettable memories.
My brother’s laugh and good nature belied an incredible burden, though – student loan debt. He followed my dad’s path to and through the workforce. My father, who earned his bachelor’s degree in education, never became a teacher. Dad worked in manufacturing before he settled on a career with the U.S. Postal Service.
Why We Wrote This
Thinking of the impact of student debt on his family, our contributor considers the role of empathy in loan forgiveness – and how it might shift discussion of the subject.
Likewise, James never took a job in communications, save for modest work he did with a political campaign back in 2020. He became a second-generation postal worker, and then ended up between manufacturing jobs. While he took pride in the friends he’d made during college, and many of them became like family to us, he didn’t have the same type of joy when it came to his degree.
“If I could get my money back for this piece of paper, I would,” James would often say. I understood his lament, and that his angst derived from how the value of education doesn’t always match with the realities of the workforce.
The term “compounding interest” is often associated with student debt, but that idea comes with more than a financial burden. Student debt often takes a physical and mental toll on indebted people. Furthermore, the money spent to pay back loans has forced some people into tough decisions where personal health becomes secondary to the pursuit of money.
My brother dealt with various ailments, and a relatively curable setback turned into a long sickness. Then, my younger brother was gone. Thirty-three years old. There is no price tag one can place on such a loss. Still, I often wonder what my brother’s life might have looked like if, among other burdens, he hadn’t felt the weight of student loan debt.
When I think of that burden being lifted off of – or at least made lighter for – so many Americans, I am happy. One of those Americans is my paternal cousin, who will have tens of thousands of dollars forgiven. I can’t imagine being angry or sorrowful about her benefiting just because such a blessing didn’t happen in time for my brother. And while I think the Biden administration’s plan doesn’t do enough to reduce student debt, interest rates, and the sheer amount of average debt per student, I certainly acknowledge these important first steps taken by this administration.
“Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors,” says a line in the Lord’s Prayer. Forgiveness. It should be the operative term in the midst of our discussion about student loan debt. It is a restorative term, not just regarding financial freedom, but quality of life.
The reality of student debt discussions breaking down into generational and political anger and angst speaks of a more insidious debt – a lack of empathy in our society.
More than 20 governors signed a letter dated Sept. 12 opposing Mr. Biden’s plan and essentially scolding indebted people for taking out loans to get an education.
“College may not be the right decision for every American, but for the students who took out loans, it was their decision,” the letter stated. “A high-cost degree is not the key to unlocking the American Dream – hard work and personal responsibility is.”
Such a statement trivializes the essence of why people attend college – economic advancement. For generations, students have literally bought into the idea of college to make a better life for their families.
But the cost of that dream keeps increasing.
Many of the governors making that statement are from states that cut funding – dramatically in some cases – to public colleges and universities between 2008 and 2019. The steepest cut was 55% per student in Arizona, one of the states whose governors signed the letter to Mr. Biden. Eighteen other states cut between 21% and 38% per student. Only nine states increased funding.
But funding cuts go back further than that. In 1988, students’ tuition “provided about a quarter of public colleges and universities’ revenue, while state and local governments provided the remaining three-quarters. Today, that split is much closer to 50-50,” according to a 2019 study by the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities in Washington.
If we need to reassess anything as a society, we need to review the level of empathy that we incorporate into the everyday decisions that Americans must make. Some people are having to make tough decisions between health care and education, and it’s affecting our collective way of life.
Empathy will help us appreciate the individual lives that make up our collective. And this individual really misses having his brother around.