University of Massachusetts Amherst is failing its students. I don’t say this lightly, and I don’t say this because I want to stir controversy or because I think the administration is made up of bad people. I say it because it is the truth — a truth that every struggling student on this campus knows deeply. Every semester tuition rises and housing becomes more expensive. While the university is aware of these struggles, they continue to respond with half-measures that do not solve the real problem.
The university’s systems meant to support students are either underfunded, inaccessible or outright broken. This leaves too many of us students scraping money together just to afford another semester, while knowing that the next semester will only bring more hardship.
I know this struggle personally.
I came to UMass for the opportunity to work hard, learn and build a future that wasn’t determined by my financial situation. Yet, this dream has been tested at every turn. I have had to ration my meal plan to make sure it will last until the end of the semester. I have seen my account balance tick up each semester while I have had no clear way of paying it off. My inability to pay an overwhelming balance led the university to freeze my account, disallowing me from registering for classes.
I have felt the crushing anxiety of realizing that this institution, one I love and want to succeed in, was never designed for people like me to thrive.
And I am not alone.
Every year, the cost of being a UMass student increases. Tuition hikes are treated as inevitable, as though students should simply accept that the price of our education will continue to rise indefinitely. It’s not just tuition; housing prices on campus continue to skyrocket which force more students into an impossible choice: pay thousands of dollars for an overpriced dorm room or take their chances with landlords in a housing market that has only become more exploitative. Meanwhile, meal plans remain a mandatory necessity, meaning students have no choice but to pay thousands of dollars a semester for food, even if they could feed themselves for less.
The administration knows that many students are struggling and barely getting by; food insecurity is a growing problem, housing is unaffordable and financial aid is not enough. Instead of solving these issues at the roots, the university offers band-aid solutions that help some students in the short term but leave the larger crisis untouched.
Take the Food Recovery Network, a well-intentioned program that redistributes unused dining hall food to students in need. This program is a good thing, yet it is only one meal once a week. In what world does that count as a solution? If students are hungry, they are not hungry just once a week, and the university’s administration is embedding roadblocks and excuses at every corner to prevent expansion of the program. Students are skipping meals, rationing what little food they have or going to bed with an empty stomach — on a campus that claims to have the best dining in the country.
The administration announced plans to open a food pantry, which is a step in the right direction, yet it won’t open until fall of 2025. This means there is at least one more academic year before students have access to a dedicated food security resource — another year of struggling and feeling like they are an afterthought in an institution that should put them first.
And then there are the financial penalties. If you miss one tuition payment, you are locked out of registering for classes and your entire education is on hold. If you can’t pay, you can’t stay — simple as that.
I don’t think people outside of this struggle truly understand how dehumanizing it is to have an institution tell you that your education and future are not dependent on your intelligence or your dedication, but instead on whether you can come up with enough money at on time. This means being treated as a financial liability instead of a student who is simply trying to learn.
Many students are thrown into an endless cycle of stress and instability; forced to balance jobs, classes and bills while knowing that if you slip up even once, the university will not catch you, it will let you fall.
And the worst part? No one is doing enough to stop this.
The Student Government Association (SGA) at UMass is supposed to fight for students — that is its job. The SGA is meant to represent students and be their voice that speaks truth to power. But when it comes to the cost crisis at UMass, the SGA has been far too quiet.
The SGA has passed resolutions and acknowledged these problems. But acknowledgment is not action; a resolution does not lower tuition, a meeting with administrators does not stop a student from going hungry. We need real, visible, forceful advocacy and we are not getting it.
I do not doubt that the people in the SGA care and I do not doubt that many of them want to make a difference. But I do doubt whether they are willing to fight — whether they are willing to make the university uncomfortable by demanding changes instead of politely requesting them.
Because that is what it will take.
This is not just a UMass problem; public education across the country is under attack. With Trump back in office, federal financial aid is at risk. Diversity, equity and inclusion programs — many of which provide essential support for marginalized students — are being dismantled. Funding cuts are coming and if we are not ready to fight for what is ours, our peers will lose out.
This is not a time for patience. This is not a time to wait and hope things get better on their own, as things only seem to be getting worse. And if we do not act now — if we do not push back, loudly and relentlessly — we will wake up in a university that no longer serves us at all.
The cost crisis at UMass is not an unsolvable problem, it is a policy choice—one that can be changed if enough people demand it. But that will not happen unless students stand united and say that enough is enough.
We must demand for tuition not to be raised further and for an end to automatic penalties that force students out of school. We must push for immediate expansion of food security programs. We must demand that administration be transparent about how they spend our money and hold them accountable for not prioritizing student well-being.
And most importantly, we must recognize our immense power as students.
If students protest, organize and refuse to accept that this is the way things must be, then change will come. The university’s administration listens to students’ demands when its reputation is at stake. The state listens when enough people demand action. Yet we must be willing to show up, to refuse to back down and to fight.
This is not just about money, this is about dignity. Further, this is about whether we will allow a public university to continue treating its students as nothing more than dollar signs, and whether we will fight for the right to learn without being crushed by debt and bureaucracy.
This is our university. This is our future. And we must demand better, because we deserve better. And I, for one, refuse to stay silent any longer. Are you with me? Because I am ready to fight.
Jacob Nevins can be reached at [email protected].