College Survival: Howard students always stay enrolled after the aid regime

When I started looking at how students at Howari are managing this fall, the first semester after Donald Trump’s terrible student aid, I didn’t expect my reporting to lead me to gofundme.

But late one night, I typed “Howard University Tuition” into the site’s search bar – and it kept scrolling. And there were: Hundreds of my classmates, who joined the masses for their one education with one donation. On page after page, I saw the faces of my classmates fill the screen. I saw seniors smiling at graduation. I saw first years in their laps, musicians on stage, science majors in lab coats, a future surgeon, and an ice skater all asking the same thing: Help me stay in school and finish my degree.

Each campaign told an issue I already knew very well: One Tuition Bread students away from losing their homes, financial accounting far away from being locked out of registration. Some were asking for $500, others $10,000. Together, they add up to heartbreaking and heartwarming portraits of students trying to survive higher education in real time.

In my research, using Gofundme’s community search engine and keyword filtering, I found 300 accessible campaigns started by Howard students this year. What is being attacked is that the last resort has quietly become a way of life and a new type of financial aid system that does not work with government loans, but the solidarity of foreigners and the solidarity of their classmates.

This fits the national pattern. According to Newsweek, there was an increase of more than 15% in crowdfunding campaigns related to education by 2024. The Nasfaa report from 2023 said that students are increasingly turning to finding their own expenses.

Time is not an accident. The Big Beaud Bible Orct Act, passed earlier this year, limited how much students and parents could borrow from Federal Aid. This policy was intended to protect against excessive credit. But for many students, it does the opposite by beating them to a mediocre level and causing them to fork over money to stay enrolled.

The fallout from the policy is not just theoretical; It belongs to him. Stephanie Stewart, a journalism major at Howard, said the delay with her parent and her loan nearly canceled her housing and registration. He first studied for a loan when the unpaid balance stopped him from enrolling in classes. Later, when the housing crisis hit, he and his father applied for a loan to cover the rent. Even after being told the loan had been transferred in late August, the money never arrived. For weeks, he visited the finance office almost every other day while dealing with pressure from his mortgage company. I said: “I continued to explain that it is under my control, but there is a great deal of time that will be given to me.”

When I reached out to students to organize these campaigns, I saw their exhaustion and hope. Jessica Parker, a junior from Georgia, said her university refused to release her student loans until the old balance was settled. “It kept me from even my junior year,” she said. On her Gofundme page, she writes about wanting to become a healthcare professional dedicated to helping low-income families. He has raised $3,585 so far, and is well below his goal.

Anania Wills, Sociology Major, wrote that her family was able to make ends meet until now. “If we do not receive payment by July 31, the University will send our account in collections,” he said. He has raised $2000, part of his $15,000 goal.

Students at other universities are scrambling to survive in similar ways. At Temple University, law studies major Kennedy Seabrook said the cost of registered accommodation depends on your major and housing situation. While she hasn’t run many gofundme campaigns, she’s watched her classmates sell clothes, do hair and nails, and work on many campus activities to get together. “The temple is very expensive,” he said. “I know people stop saving money.”

At Towsen University, Jasmine Dower nurses say financial stress varies depending on family support. Some students rely on parental bailouts or college funds, while others fend for themselves entirely. He has seen cannibalism and illegal housing schemes in housing to cut costs, although repeat mobs still occur on his campus.

Scrolling through these pages, it is impossible not to feel the weight of the event. Behind every smiling profile picture is a student who does everything right. They study, work, and volunteer, and they’re still short.

At Howard, this isn’t just about money. It’s about access, opportunity, and the erosion of what college was supposed to be.

Each story I received seemed like the last one. Roy Xavier James Vanterpool, major in electrical-engineering, wrote that even after working 40 hours a week during the summer, he could not cover the urgent situation in the areas of study and housing. He is trying to raise $5,000 to stay registered. “Every dollar will help me stay on track to get my degree,” her page read. He doesn’t just fight for himself; He is a member of Alpha Phi Omega and the Howard Naacp, where he advocates for juvenile justice reform.

Finance Major Tayvion Elzey lost his assistant resident position, the job that once paid for the housing, and with it, the stability that allowed him to stay in school. His gofundme tells donors that “all donations will help me continue my education and work toward my goal of making a positive impact in the world of finance and in my community.” His story captures the same thing that is so surprising to us that we felt: we did everything “,” however one policy changed away from losing the future we worked for.

Not every story ends in despair. Zakaiya, an acting student at the Chadwick A. Boseman College of Fine Arts, is accused of being sent to collections before his campaign went viral. Donations and hidden messages of encouragement from alumni, family, and strangers. “God is very good and we have more than we need so far,” he wrote after meeting his goal. His joy was felt by the Spokesman and he likes to win a little for every student who is waiting for theirs.

But for many students at Howard and beyond, the struggle continues. Confyfunding has turned into a full-time job with passion and students posting updates between classes, refreshing donation pages, and learning how to market their pain to survive. Vulnerability to the community that should have existed in the program that was designed to lift us up.

One piece of Big Beaud Bill legislation was sold as a financial exercise. But for many of us, it feels like there is a penalty for pursuing higher education without general wealth. For students who are forced, especially at HBCUS, to rely on digital management instead of guaranteed help. The policy is designed to cut government spending and simply transfer the cost of education to students’ mental health, reputation and future earnings.

The Irony is impossible to ignore: While Federal Aid is frozen, tuition continues, housing companies continue to make a profit, and students are left to beg online to stay in school. What was once, an occasional gofundme link in a class group discussion, has become a routine. It is now a mirror of what the college has become: a program that seeks academic excellence and financial desperation.

When I look at the faces on those gofundme pages, I don’t just see strangers – I see classmates, peers and friends. I see what it takes for black students to chase success in the economy and government that keeps moving the birds.

And as I keep scrolling, I realize that this story is not just about Howard. It’s about what higher education looks like in America after the big payoff: students survive college, not because of the policy, but in spite of it.

Mekhi noal Is a journalism minor at Howard University with a media interest in storytelling and broadcasting. She focuses on highlighting the experiences and strengths of students, especially in HBCU communities. You can follow him on Instagram.

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