Getting Real with Kira Hazledine
I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anything as magical as my student loans. I blink and the amount I owe raises a few cents. The amount of money floats around somewhere in an “owed” statement, collecting interest and dust. The more I think about my student loans, the more I realize how much they are like unicorns.
I’ve never seen the amount of money that I paid for tuition.
I’ve also never seen a unicorn. I hear they’re out there, but pictures of narwhals are as close as I get. I owe a ridiculous amount, but since the total student loan debt is over one trillion dollars, I’m comforted by knowing I’m not the only one.
I physically don’t possess the amount of money I now owe for student loans.
And I probably never will. The same way that I will, sadly, never ride a unicorn. However, I’m still more likely to ride a unicorn than to afford my monthly payment. Now that would be magical.
The amount I owe significantly increases every year thanks to magic called “interest.”
According to folklore, unicorns can fly and I’m thinking they get their magic from the student loan offices. There must be some untapped source of power available to those that can afford to pay their student loans, and I’m assuming these people also hoard their knowledge of unicorns.
I keep being told opportunities exist if I just keep looking.
If I just keep believing, maybe a unicorn will ascend from the heavens and fly me far away from my student loan debt. Or, at the very least, deliver a job offer that will make the money I spent on my student loans worth the trouble. I might as well have spent my time throwing coins at a fountain.
My loan company keeps reassuring me that I’ll pay my student loans off before I die.
The chances of me seeing a unicorn before I die are so slim, but still more likely than returning all the money I owe the federal government for my education.
I’m a big fan of all things unicorn, glitter, and rainbows, but no sparkle can brighten the dull of my student loans. From one mom to the next, I have no idea how I’ll convince my kids to go to college. They might as well start chasing the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, because their chances of being debt-free aren’t fantastic. Unless they marry rich. Then they can afford the student loans and the unicorn.
Additional Reading: The United States of Student Debt
An analytical report on the debt burden facing U.S. borrowers today—and the post-pandemic policy changes that will shake it up.
