Hello from post-academic-working-busy-life land! I’m so intensely sorry to have neglected the blog. I have excuses but they are boring. I think I’m finally settling in to my job and will have more time and brainspace to write here.
A few months ago, I started a series of entries about student loans and how grad school culture supported my awful financial choices for a decade called “Let’s Talk About Debt.” In the third essay, I wrote that loans could — and probably should — be considered a prison sentence:
Really, let’s reframe student loans as a prison sentence. The higher your debt, the longer your sentence. And 5 years might seem like nothing at 22, but I’m telling you that ten years later, 5 years seems like a big chunk of your life, and that’s if and only if you are able to put a huge amount towards loans every year. Most people – like me and my family – can’t approximate that.
So you might say Fuck it, I’ll just make my minimum payments for 25 years or whatever and just count on having to pay it. OK, yeah, that makes sense (if you ignore things like the massive amount of interest you’ll pay); but really, think about what you could be doing with that $400 or $500 (or $1000) per month. You could… save for retirement. Get your kids the braces they need or help pay for your Mom’s nursing home costs. Go on a honeymoon in San Francisco instead of camping. Get your dog the surgery for his hip instead of putting him to sleep. Invest in the stock market, or buy a kickass car. Fix the car you already have. That kind of money, month after month? It can be a life or death, eat or go hungry difference.
I wanted to add a new wrinkle to this conversation after a chat I had with a coworker earlier this week. We were talking about being broke and going broke. This coworker is a close friend and fellow ex-academic who came to work in advising after completing an interdisciplinary PhD and trying (and failing) to find full-time teaching work in community colleges and the like. She’s brilliant and funny and employed and broke. (Sounds familiar, right??) She told me that under federal guidelines, our jobs as full-time employees of a public university qualify us for Public Service Loan Forgiveness. It’s kind of like Northern Exposure, where Joel gets med school paid for when he agrees to work in Alaska for a few years, but in this case, PSLF qualifies any full-time public employee to write off whatever remains of their student loans after 120 on-time loan payments.
Doing a little math, you can see that for anyone with a lot of student loan debt, this is a really, really good thing. For me, personally, depending on what my monthly loan payments end up being, this plan could save me anywhere from $60,000 – $90,000.
Let that sink in for a second.
And then imagine my thought process.
Yay!! OMG LOAN FREE IN TEN YEARS, BITCHES! I AM DOING THAT. I’m definitely doing that. Which means I have to stay in this job for ten years.
No matter what.
Forever. (Well, for ten years, but still.)
There’s really no other job — unless it was a comparatively paying, full-time, public service loan forgiveness qualifying job — that would make it worthwhile to quit this job until I fulfill this requirement and get the monkey off my back.
This loan forgiveness thing is a bit of a golden handcuffs. It’s extremely exciting to think that I might be student loan debt-free at age 42 instead of age never. But it changes any discussion of the future. It raises the bar for any competing jobs, any life changes, because the incentive to stay in this job is now so high that I can’t imagine much else competing with it.
The good news is that I like this job, I like my colleagues, I love the students, and I can imagine being here for that long and even being HAPPY. But it is strange to move from a position of freely accepting and taking on this job by choice, and now feeling an external force powerfully compelling me to keep it. It raises the stakes, in a good way, but in a way that’s a bit stressful too (I really need to not fuck this up. Which I won’t. But still.).
This is just one more way that debt in general, but massive amounts of student loan debt in specific, becomes the albatross around our neck in ways we can’t foresee (and are encouraged to actively ignore) in grad school. It might make a deeply indebted grad student stay in a crappy position, or in a crappy location, longer than they would otherwise. It might make a grad’s dreams of eventually becoming a freelance writer or business owner get pushed back much further. It might make a grad student stay quiet about a problem because they don’t want to risk a job. I’m not saying this is the fault of the amazing public service forgiveness program; I’m saying it’s an unforeseen consequence of taking on loads of debt. Debt changes the landscape of your dreams in ways you just can’t comprehend when you are biting your nails for that loan refund to hit because August and September are the worst for grad students, amirite? But in five years when you get the mostly worthless PhD and start your entry level, non-academic position and realize that, yeah, you’re 38 and starting at the bottom rung and pretty much HAVE to stay here (wherever here is) for 10 years? It’s a bit of a bummer. It takes the shine off a little. And many of the advisers here are counting down their 10 years to student loan freedom.
I’m grateful for my job, and grateful for this opportunity that definitely means good things for my financial future. But I’m still adding up all the ways that debt closes doors or opportunity for my life and will continue to do so until it’s gone. Buyer beware.
Psst — check out some of the new post-academics on the blogging block! Dr. Outtahere – What Do You Do With an MA in English? — Post-Medievalist
Problem is, the unpaid loan balance will then be considered forgiven debt and the IRS will need to be paid. It would be interesting to do some research on people who have gotten to this point and find out what happened or is now happening with them. Then again, is the program too new, i.e. less than 10 yrs. old, for that? Regardless, it would be smart to be as prepared as possible for this eventuality. Or at least be aware of it and not falsely think you’re completely off the hook.
Good to know. I plan to talk to my financial adviser about this. If I get more info on it, I’ll share.
I have to say, despite all the complexities and nuances and golden handcuffs, I basically now feel like I should ignore everything else on my list and try desperately to get some job, any job, at my university.
Also, my student loan payment for this month is late because fuck you August.
I’ll definitely take these golden handcuffs over the poverty cuffs of grad school/adjuncting. I just think it’s sad that debt makes even a great thing feel bad in some ways.
You would be a great advisor. FWIW.
The 10-year forgiveness thing is kind of a hoax for a lot of people though. I mean, not really because if you have a balance after 10 years, you have a balance, and yay! for getting it paid. But everyone I know in a public service job who has done the math on this has realized that by the time 10 years rolls around they would have paid off their principal and then some — all the forgiveness forgives is some of the interest that’s accrued over time.
I mean, I get that it is a relief, but I find it deeply sneaky for the government to pretend they’re ACTUALLY helping people out who work in the public sector (after TEN FUCKING YEARS when they mostly will have paid off everything they took out anyway! That’s all you get for public service?! They will make just SLIGHTLY less money off of you?) while simultaneously doing things like cutting off subsidized loans for graduate students!
It’s a shit system.
Yes, my sister in in this situation (she has a “public service” job but will pay her debt in 10 years). Really, it only rewards the insane who took out more than anyone has a right to, like me. And then, it may not be a total reward (we’ll see, I guess).
I hear you. I just wish they would rename “student loan forgiveness” “Hey, FINE, we’ll make marginally less money off of you.” It seems more honest. LOL!
Right. The “hardly worth it but hey, it’s better than nothing” plan.
Actually, if I understand correctly, I will eligible for this too if I work in a public hospital for 10 years. That being said, if I didn’t stay in a public hospital and opened a private practice sooner, I would be able to pay off my loans quicker and ultimately pay less in interest. So you really would think they would give more incentive for people staying in public service, since this is the case with many of these jobs (i.e. you can make more if you don’t stay in these jobs!).
Yes, this occurred to me, too. Because Brian makes so much more in the private sector. I suppose if you ended up a HS teacher or went to a really expensive social work program, this could make sense.
You know what? I say this with all sincerity, and also with hope that I won’t be judged harshly: As a soon-to-be PhD, I find myself seriously considering taking a part-time job in my old field of exotic dancing(!) just to put a dent in these loans. Dr. Stripper? A few years ago it would have horrified me, only because of the blow to the prestige I imagined the “dr” would bestow. Now, I’m pragmatic. I just want a house and a vacation. I just want to live as good as my (uneducated) parents did on a mechanic’s salary. If that means working at the club one night a week to pull an extra $500-$1k a WEEK to put towards loans…dude….I’m thinking about it. Real hard. In one year, I could pull an extra…I dunno…$30k? Straight to loans. And yes, I am absolutely 100% a feminist (but that’s a whole ‘nother convo)!
If I could do something I didn’t hate on the side and make $30k in a year to pay off debt, I would do it.