In May of 2017, I was ecstatic to finally graduate high school in the top ten percent of my class in Peoria, Arizona. I had pushed myself academically, taking on honors and Advanced Placement courses, maintaining strong grades, and immersing myself in extracurriculars like the National Honor Society, swim team, basketball, and track. Attending a four-year university was something I had wanted my entire life. Since I was a little girl, I had dreamed of having an esteemed job, perhaps something in medical or law, where I could help make a difference. But I didn’t achieve this alone.
My parents worked tirelessly to support my education, even when it meant sacrificing their own time, energy, and financial security. My mom would stay up late helping me make notecards with funny drawings, quizzing me in her bedroom walk-in closet—our makeshift study space. My dad, despite his own long days at work, would sit with me, helping me navigate my collegiate goals. Since I was little, I had envisioned a career where I could create real, meaningful change, fixing the systems that keep communities struggling. Upon graduation, I was awarded multiple in-state merit-based scholarships like the Arizona Excellence Award and the Lumberjack Scholarship.
But even with these scholarships, the cost of attending college was still daunting. Dorm costs, meal plans, textbooks, and other essentials quickly added up, leaving my family in a difficult position. Like many students, I found that even with scholarships and financial aid, additional funding was necessary to go to school. Leaving, my parents were faced with the choice: take on debt or tell their child that her dreams were out of reach. That’s when my family turned to a Parent PLUS loan, a federal borrowing option marketed as a way for parents to help their children afford college.
What we didn’t fully understand at the time—because the system doesn’t make it clear—is that the Parent PLUS loan is a financial trap. Unlike other federal student loans, it offers no way for students to later assume responsibility for the debt, locking parents into years, even decades, of repayment. Now, as I finish my own education and begin repaying my own student loans, my family is facing a harsh reality: my mother, at 61 years old and nearing retirement from the public school system, is still on the hook for a large loan taken out in my name to cover my education costs. Although the loan is in my name, the only way to transfer it to me is by refinancing it with a private lender, stripping it of any federal protections. Even with a job and high credit, the private loan’s APR will result in increased interest payments. Instead of consolidating all my federal loans into one manageable payment, I will now have to juggle two separate loan payments every month—each costing hundreds of dollars—for the next 10 to 20 years.
The Parent PLUS loan program was designed to expand access to higher education, but in reality, it disproportionately burdens low- and middle-income families, particularly women and mothers:
- Women hold two-thirds of all student debt in the United States.
- Due to the gender wage gap, women take longer to repay loans, accumulating more interest over time.
- Mothers are more likely than fathers to take out Parent PLUS loans.
For families like mine, the Parent PLUS loan wasn’t a luxury—it was the only option. My father told me outright: Without this loan, I would have had to say no to your college education.
Despite being a federal loan, the Parent PLUS program comes with several critical flaws:
- No Transferability: The loan stays in the parent’s name, with no option for the student to assume responsibility while keeping federal protections.
- Federal Protections Misalignment: Although the loan is taken out under my name, the loan reflects income-driven protections based on my mother’s taxable income—not mine. This system does not help those who the education was intended for.
- Lack of Clear Warnings: Federal loan providers do not clearly explain the long-term impact of these loans to families. I was told multiple times throughout my attempts at loan consolidation through Nelnet that I had to “figure it out.” I was given no resources or options from loan servicers, the University of Arizona, or other institutions.
- Few Alternatives for Low- and Middle-Income Families: With tuition and living costs soaring, families are forced into risky borrowing just to afford college.
The reality is that higher education financing is broken. Families who have played by the rules—working hard, earning scholarships, and pursuing degrees—are still being forced into debt that follows them for decades. Every year, thousands of families make financial decisions for their 18-year-old children that will affect them for a large portion of their lives. The Parent PLUS loan was supposed to be a bridge to opportunity—but for too many, it has become a roadblock to financial stability. In 2024, total student loan debt reached $1.773 trillion, with Parent PLUS loans accounting for 7% of this debt and an average amount exceeding $30,000. Reform is necessary to ensure that families are not trapped in financial ruin while simply trying to provide their children with a chance at success. Without meaningful change, the cycle of debt will continue to impact generations of students and parents alike.
Sources:
Ways Student Debt Is One More Thing That’s Worse for Women Than Men – Business Insider
Everything You Need to Know About Parent PLUS Loans
Parent PLUS Loans | Federal Student Aid
Average Time to Repay Student Loans: 2025 Statistics & Data | Research.com