She’d received her official acceptance letter months ago and dutifully followed the enrollment instructions sent to her. She knew where her student housing would be, the courses she’d first be taking, and she’d applied for her first student loan with Sallie Mae to pay her tuition. Her admissions counselor assured her that all she’d need in loans for the degree was about $36,000.
The Art Institute of Pittsburgh did not have traditional dorms, so they housed students at an apartment complex off campus. The Institute was situated in the urban heart of the city, so students relied on the public bus transit system to get to and from classes.
At first, this irked Holly – given her small town upbringing, she was intimidated by having to figure out the public transportation system just to get to and from school. But once she was moved into her unit and had a chance to study the bus schedule, she felt a bit more confident. She started to make friends, got to know her Resident Assistant, and took comfort in knowing there was a security guard protecting her new home, seated on the bustling, edgy North Shore.
Unfortunately, her sense of security soon faded. She heard stories about students getting assaulted just outside her building’s front door. Some of her classmates struggled with mental health issues and several attempted – or committed – suicide. A few jumped out of open windows or off balconies, and at least one student tried to jump off a downtown bridge. She also heard that a particular male student on her floor had assaulted multiple women. Holly couldn’t let that go without saying something, so she contacted the resident staff. She was brushed off and simply told they “were aware of some complaints and were monitoring the situation.”
Despite a growing sense of unease, Holly mostly kept her mouth shut while working hard in her classes. She didn’t dare tell her parents some of these questionable details of her educational environment. She knew they’d immediately pull her out of school and whisk her back home. So she kept her head down and finished out her first semester.
She thought she was registered and all ready to start her second semester, but she discovered she had a “hold” on her account, meaning she could not attend her classes. The school had a policy stating that missing 4 hours of class would land her on academic probation, and if she missed 8 hours, she’d automatically fail. Panicked, she contacted her academic advisor who explained that her hold would need to be resolved by the financial aid office.
Bewildered, Holly went straight to the first available financial aid assistant. She sat down and listened to the counselor explain the reason for the hold. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
What do you mean, I need to apply for more money? I just started my degree and my admissions rep asurred me my degree would only cost $36,000.
So my degree is actually going to cost $108,000 total, without interest?
My credits won’t transfer to any other school…anywhere?
If I drop out, I have to start repayment immediately?
Defeated, she signed the necessary forms and got her hold resolved so she could return to class. What else could do? All she could think was, “My family expects me to finish. I’m the first one to attend college. We were told in high school if we didn’t go to college we could expect to not find work outside the family business. Sticking it out is my only option. How could it get any worse than having to pay three times more than we originally thought? At least I have loans to cover the cost.”
Before long, other red flags started to appear. Holly realized that the school would often limit the number of student spots in a class and would offer that class infrequently, forcing students to stay enrolled extra terms in order to finish their degrees. All of a sudden, her professors started giving her very negative feedback. They failed her in multiple courses, no matter how hard she studied or tried to improve her academic performance. She was forced to enroll for an unexpected fourth year and was warned that if she couldn’t finish her degree soon, she’d run out of federal student loans and would have to either pay out of pocket or take out private loans at a higher interest rate. She pulled out of student housing to try to reduce the cost of attendance, and it turned out to be a better decision than she’d originally thought; The Institute moved the student housing to a different apartment complex closer to campus, but it shared a driveway with the Allegheny County Jail. In addition to watching inmates being marched by the door each day, Holly also learned that this new student housing did not provide access to a kitchen – and there was no student dining hall or meal plan available.
Finally at the very end of her academics, Holly was preparing to leave the Art Institute of Pittsburgh. She had always thought leaving the safety of school and losing the comfort of so many nearby friends would be bittersweet. But in reality, should couldn’t wait to get away from the place. Disappointed, disillusioned, and significantly financially disadvantaged, Holly was relieved when she finally stepped off campus for the very last time.