your financial aid award

In late March, for the fourth time, I bare my soul to Cornell.

I diligently complete the required financial aid forms, all with funny acronyms: CSS, FAFSA, and TAP.

Everything then gets sent to IDOC (Institutional Documentation Service). 

I check and re-check the long list of required documents.   I give my current financial position and my projected one.  I do the same for my son.  I carefully copy and organize pages and pages of information.  Tax returns.  W-2’s or 1099’s  (only for Alexander, as I have none). Detailed explanations. Documents specific to Cornell.  Authorization to link directly to my returns with the IRS.

The process is invasive and time-consuming. Getting a million dollar mortgage would likely require less.

After all the paperwork is completed, the copies made, and the package mailed, the difficult part begins.  The waiting.

Last night I get an email forwarded to me from Alexander.  The subject line is: Your Financial Aid Award.

I'm too anxious to open it, so I save it for morning.  

I wake up early.  Go to the site.  And can't get in without my son's user ID and password, which of course I don't have.

I text Alexander and get no response.  I then call the school's Financial Aid Office.  I am on hold for 20 minutes.  I finally reach them, but get the answer I expect.  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak directly with your son. We are not allowed to give that information to anyone but him.”

An hour or so later I reach Alexander. I tell him I need his user ID and password and explain why.  His resistance is so strong I wonder, “What doesn’t he want me to see?”  As it turns out, nothing. 

I nervously open the page.  I read and re-read the information.  The news from Cornell is good.  Very very good.

Someday I hope Alexander will be able to repay the school that has given him so much — a stellar education, a supportive and enriching environment, a community of diverse and intelligent people, and a place where he can grow.  

I write and thank them.  I am deeply grateful for their generosity, throughout my son's four years. My wish for Alexander has come true:  he will graduate college debt-free.

I hope he realizes how blessed he is; I certainly do.