Father’s Day Op-Ed: Reckoning with the Promise of Education

My father was born in the late 1930s in North Carolina—Black, brilliant, and determined long before this country made space for men like him to thrive. He was the first in his immediate family to graduate from college, earning his degree from North Carolina A&T, one of the South’s most respected HBCUs. He went on to serve in the U.S. Army and later built a life rooted in science, service, and family.

As a chemist, he developed epoxy resins and industrial coatings that protect our roads, water towers, and even the iconic Oriole Park at Camden Yards. He worked quietly and diligently, creating the coatings that support the infrastructure most people never think about. He holds a patent for high-solid epoxy coating—a testament to the brilliance he poured into a career defined by service over status.

He married my mother in the late 1960s, and together they raised my brother and me in a home grounded in love, structure, purpose, and pride. When it came time for college, they paid for my brother’s tuition. But with two children attending back-to-back, my father did what so many parents do—he took out Parent PLUS loans, believing that education would launch us into a life that was better than what he could have imagined for us.

My father didn’t just support his own children—he helped extended family, gave back to his community, paid every tax bill, and never missed a mortgage payment. All while working in roles that underpaid him compared to his less-experienced peers. He believed in the American Dream and in education as the great equalizer.

He did everything this country tells you to do to succeed. And yet—because of student loans—he’s still treated by the system as a liability.

At nearly 90 years old, my father still carries student loan debt.

He is a living reminder that not all borrowers are young—and that Parent PLUS loans, with their high interest rates and unforgiving terms, are crushing millions of older Americans. These loans account for more than $104 billion in federal student debt, held by 3.7 million families.

As my father’s health declines and medical bills grow, it has become painfully clear: he will likely die owing student loan debt.

Let me say that again: a Black man who helped protect this country and designed materials to protect this country’s infrastructure will likely leave this world with a balance due.

Many parents spend more years paying off their Parent PLUS loans than the years they spent living with and raising the child whose education their loan supported. See, the ability to repay is not just about income, it is about wealth. And wealth is something many families, especially Black families, never had a chance to build. A program designed to bridge funding gaps for middle-income families has become an anchor around the necks of seniors. And when they default, they can risk losing a large portion of their monthly social security income. Although the Trump Administration has stated that it will not garnish the social security of the 452,000 seniors age 62 and over who are currently in default. Which is helpful, but insufficient in providing actual relief for seniors.

Parent PLUS loans are often described as unique because the benefits go to the children—and, in reality, to society and employers. A well-educated workforce strengthens a state’s economy. As reported by the American Action Forum, “every 1 percentage-point increase in the growth rate of the portion of a state’s population with at least a bachelor’s degree, the state’s real gross domestic product growth rate increases by about 0.08 percentage points.”

I write this piece in honor of my hard-working father and all the parents and grandparents who believed in the power of education, only to be punished by a system that promised to change the odds for them and their children, not weigh them down in old age.

The promise of education should not end in debt. We need affordable, accessible, and navigable solutions to reduce the burden on those who have invested deeply in their families and communities—especially after decades of payments.

We owe them more than interest payments. We owe them justice.