by Jennifer Winchester

Created on: March 17, 2009

The state of the economy is felt in our back yards, neighborhoods, and communities. There is little escape to the burden and trouble that is facing our great nation. Yet, despite the devastation surrounding us as individuals, there is really no way to fully understand the magnitude of that devastation until it is felt more personally - in our own homes. We are bombarded on the news and in the papers; "Recession", but it still seems to catch you off guard when you begin to feel it in your own home. I have spent the last three years attempting to follow a career path and better myself, both personally and educationally. Three years of hard work; blood, sweat, and tears. The last nine months of those three years included a somewhat grueling internship program that required me to work only part time - well, work part time for pay. In all actuality, I worked 65 hours each week and was only paid for 30 of those hours. That, my friend, is not the disappointment.

During the final few terms of my Master's program, my husband's businesses suffered greatly. My part time employment and his noticeable decline in work coupled to destroy our household income. We had spent five years building our life together and now we have found ourselves in debt, with declining credit, and in desperate need of a new family vehicle. Our poor, two year old, yellow labrador needs some dental work and there is no money in the budget to follow up on his care. And yet, although disheartening and shameful - that is not even the grandest disappointment.

I have reached my graduation date. I have met the requirements as set forth by the University and the national organizations that oversee and empower therapists and counselors such as myself. All of the blood and sweat have dried after the internship program completion and approval for graduation. The tears, however, have not gone. In fact, I have shed more tears in the past two months than I had the entire three years I spent working toward my goal. I cry when I receive a bill in the mail. I cry when I see my adorable dog's broken tooth. I cry when I read my bank statement. I cannot graduate.

I cannot graduate. Three years of my life were dedicated to making a better future for myself, my husband, and our little family. There is no clarity as to whether more dollars or hours were spent in making this goal a reality but it has been made very clear that there is a $350 graduation fee. Until that sum is paid in full, there is no diploma and there is

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