The new Ellucian survey lands like a cold splash of reality: more HBCU and MSI students are being forced to choose between staying in class and covering rent, groceries, or a utility bill. It's the kind of choice no one should have to make, yet here we are, watching smart, motivated people quietly ration their last slice of meal plan and pray their car holds out one more semester. The report also shows over half of all college students are working full-time, and financial stress is hammering their mental health. That part hits close to home. We talk a lot about "the grind" like it's a personality trait, but the grind has a cost, and too many students are paying it with their sleep, their focus, and sometimes their actual enrollment.
This isn't just a problem for the students living it. It's a problem for every one of us who claims to care about what a degree means. When a student at an HBCU or MSI has to wonder if they can afford to stay enrolled, we're not just losing a statistic; we're losing the very people who bring fresh ideas and lived perspective to campus. The Heads Up, Cougs: New Academic Officer Survey Drops story from our own publication reminds us that institutional leaders are paying attention to big-picture trends, but this is a reminder that the most important data point is whether a student eats tonight. And for first-gen students, the stakes are even higher. The Hidden Curriculum First-Gen Students Face piece digs into the unspoken rules that trip up students whose parents can't help them navigate financial aid forms or explain why a work-study job might not cover their textbook costs. Add a full-time job and a basic needs crisis to that list, and you've got a perfect storm.
We're not here to doom-scroll, though. We're here to be practical. If you're reading this and you're struggling, hear this: you're not alone, and it's not a personal failure. But we also need to push back on the idea that this is just "how it is." Campuses have food pantries, emergency grants, and basic needs offices, but they only work if you use them and if they're funded. Ask your student government what they're doing. Show up to a town hall. And if you're in a position to help, donate a few canned goods or a couple of hours at the campus food pantry. It's not a forever fix, but it's real. The Rethinking Support for First-Gen Sophomores story shows that support can't stop after orientation; it needs to follow students through the whole journey.
Here's the thing we'd tell a friend over coffee: this survey is a wake-up call, but it's not a reason to give up. It's a reason to get loud. The students in this story are doing everything right and still getting squeezed. That's not on them. The open question is whether the rest of us, the ones with a little time or a little privilege, are willing to make their fight ours. The next time you see a classmate skipping lunch or hear about someone dropping out because they couldn't afford a bus pass, don't just nod and move on. Ask them if they're okay. Point them to the resource. And then ask your administration why the resource has to be so hard to find in the first place. That's the detail we're watching: not whether the survey changes minds, but whether it changes budgets.
