Standing at the entrance of Charlottenstraße 97, about to go our separate ways, a fellow classmate from the United States studying with me in Berlin asked this question: “Why should I pay extra for the little extra I get at NYU, when I could attend a university here in Germany and save thousands of dollars?”

We all began to question how much students pay for college in the US – how much NYU students pay, especially – in our Sociology of the Globalization of Higher Education class that semester. Every semester a group of students take that course at NYU Berlin, mingle with German students, and unleash Pandora’s Box of information on the rest of the cohort: “Did you know that they don’t pay anything to go to college in Germany?”

(This is not 100% true. German students pay semester fees and pay for books, however the total cost of higher education in Germany reaches maybe $1,000 a year, living expenses not included. This number is still far below the cost of even state universities in California, for example.)

During our escapades in Berlin, the question of student debt festered back home. When I returned to NYU New York, I invested my time in the environmentalist communities. However by my senior year (2015-2016), the emphasis of intersectionality began picking up while activism focused on anti-racism and labor rights experienced “moments of the whirlwind,” a term used among activists when a chain reaction is caused by one branch to ignite groups across the country or globe to escalate action. While I continued to advocate for the environment, I felt my focus and energy pivot towards questioning something NYU is known far too well for – it’s lack of scholarships and financial aid support.

Somehow this all led me to focus my Master’s – still concentrated in European Politics and Policy – on the affordability and funding of higher education in Europe. Once I was done with my Bachelor’s thesis, I picked up two books on European higher education and spent the summer reading. I began to consider cost of higher education, structure of universities, the legitimacy of private universities in different countries, the impact of an economic system on culture and perceptions of higher education options. I glanced at the admissions process in German universities, in Irish universities, and I thought back to my own experiences applying to colleges in the US. At the time I was working on my Master’s, my sister was applying to schools, and her journey served me a paradox.

My Master’s thesis aimed to bring forward the voices of Irish and German students at universities and how they perceived the cost of their education. Now, I am looking to learn about the system through a new angle: counseling high school students on the college admissions process. It’s a messy one, and while you’re in it as a high school junior or senior, you can only see it from the front end.

The purpose of my research and work is to question our narratives, systems of funding education, and the institutions themselves. What I will agree with and disagree with I can’t be certain.

With my experience at NYU, one of the most expensive and least financially forgiving private universities in the United States, as well as one of the most “global” universities in the world, and with my interest in continuing the international research I started two years ago, this blog will dive at these questions through examining a large assortment of research:

How do we measure our “value” of post-secondary education? Should this change?

What is our price for quality education?

To what extent should post-secondary education be funded as a public good? 

How does our “value” of post-secondary education impact young adults?

I will look to students in both secondary and post-secondary education to examine my questions, and I will look as close to home as the San Francisco Bay Area, and as far away as the United Arab Emirates. It will be political, it will also be very cultural – and often, the stories will be personal.