“Sometimes you just have to be grateful for the gifts that God has given you,” was a statement I wasn’t expecting to hear from the Financial Aid Office, especially not at Bethel University. Sitting in the small office on the fifth floor of the Anderson Center, trying to stop the tears from flowing, I felt for the first time that Bethel no longer cared about me. 

At least, not in the way it used to.

Bethel has ensured that, post-tuition reduction, I am still paying the same tuition amount as before. Except now, my scholarship is no longer based on my academic achievement.

I think the most frustrating part about my financial aid visit was that my parents were with me.

They’re genocide survivors. During Cambodia’s Khmer Rouge regime of the 1970s, both experienced confiscation of property, starvation and concentration camps. They witnessed death and war first-hand. They were separated from their families as children, constantly in fear for their lives. They watched as those close to them were taken and never heard from again. They endured a communist regime that killed thousands. They suffered decades later with PTSD and the grueling task of assimilation.

Imagine being told to be grateful for what you have, after all that. All my dad could say was, “We are grateful.” 

And I don’t mean to bash the financial aid representative either. I mean, how could she have known what my parents have been through? She was trying to be a voice of encouragement. Still, my parents and I left feeling a little shocked, a little uneasy and extremely hurt. So we went home. And I thought about how I had gotten here in the first place. 

Being raised by immigrant parents taught me a lot. When both of my parents came to the United States, they had to build their lives up from nothing. 

My mom was raised in a single-parent household, while my dad’s immediate family was all on another continent. Their losses, sacrifices, challenges and triumphs through it all inspire me to keep going. As I grew up, my mom always said she wanted me to be able to do the things she never got the chance to do.

So I worked hard. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be the smartest kid in the class, to prove myself worthy and make my parents proud. 

In high school, I was the Advanced Placement kid. Taking tough classes was one of the ways I continued to prove myself as the academic weapon, and conveniently, I enjoyed the challenge. People in the AP cohort knew me as the smart girl, so when ACT season came around during our junior year, you had to have guessed what score I was aiming for. I fell short with a 35. 

Nevertheless, Bethel saw my hard work and 4.2 GPA and awarded me the Royal Merits Scholarship upon acceptance. This was an answer to prayer. 

In my senior year of high school, FAFSA had a major change in policy: the number of children in college at one time would no longer be considered in a family’s financial situation. As the middle child of three daughters, I will always have a sister attending college at the same time as me, which doubles the financial strain on my family. 

I could have picked the cheaper option and commuted to the University of Minnesota. But during the college decision process, I felt the Lord calling me to Bethel. I wrestled with this for months, with tuition costs at the forefront of my mind. With FAFSA no longer considering siblings in their aid calculations, merit aid was the only thing I had going for me.

Until it wasn’t going for me anymore.

September 16, 2024, two weeks into my freshman year, I was walking to Chapel when the words “exciting updates to Bethel’s tuition” popped up on my phone. With my heart racing, I opened the email describing the tuition reposition and what it meant for students. 

The more I read, the more I began to feel a pit settling deep in my stomach. I realized not only was tuition being reduced, but so was my scholarship. The follow-up email confirmed it all. 

When financial aid offers were finally completed for the next year, my scholarship was in fact reduced from $22,000 to $2,620 per year, although my tuition sticker price remained the same. To put it into perspective, that is 12% of the merit scholarship’s monetary value. In my efforts to find more aid through Bethel, I stumbled across the scholarship page for incoming and transfer students. What I saw was baffling.

Incoming students with my same high school GPA would be receiving $7,000, or 2.5 times more merit aid than me. Even the smallest scholarship of $3,000 was being given to students with a minimum 2.8 GPA.

After reading further and realizing future students with less than exceptional grades would attend Bethel with thousands of dollars more in academic aid than me, I didn’t know what to feel.

The Royal Merits Scholarship was also renamed to the “Bethel Discount.” With this change, it felt like financial aid was no longer something I had earned based on my academic accomplishments. The award money was only a gift from Bethel.

In reality, that gift is simply the minimum amount of scholarship required to match my previous net cost, and not the maximum I deserve for my hard work. It’s hard not to feel neglected. It’s as if all those years of long nights, study-crying sessions and struggles with a perfectionist mentality were all for nothing. It feels like I’m being told none of my academic dedication matters; my true value comes from how much I can pay the institution.

I tried expressing these concerns to the financial aid office. Instead, I was told to be grateful because receiving departmental scholarships is “rare for a sophomore,” and incoming students don’t have the same scholarship opportunities I have.

I found these statements frustrating and futile. The financial aid office struggled to understand that it was never about the money for me. Sure, I was disappointed by how much of my scholarship was taken away, but I understand that it was done to ensure I, along with other students, am paying the same net cost.

No matter how many times they told me I was still seen and valued as a student, I wasn’t convinced. As they always say in mathematics, the numbers don’t lie.

Now that I’ve been able to truly reflect on it, I have to laugh at the irony of it all. Bethel’s “discount” has ended up discounting me. Sometimes I still feel forgotten as a student. Like I don’t belong, and the only thing I’m becoming is financially unstable.

But I know my value. It doesn’t come in test scores or merit scholarships, or a perfect 4.0 GPA. It comes from a Father who sets treasures in the highest place for me, who has already defined my identity and worth. 

And whether I’m receiving $22,000 or $2,620, I know that I’m still making my parents proud every day. Just as they’d want me to, I’m choosing to put my trust in the God who provides, the God who truly sees me. And unlike college financial aid offices across the country, He is never one to disappoint.