• I was accepted into a Ph.D. in economics program, which was a dream come true.
• But I was also offered a job at a startup that excited me, so I took the offer.
• The startup folded, and I'm unsure if I regretted the decision.

When I received an email saying I had been accepted into the university of my choice for a Ph.D. program, I cried.

Furthering my education had always been an important goal for me, but it was one I didn't achieve easily. I battled Graves' disease through my early college years, which meant I was in and out of the classroom. I constantly played catch-up, and never thought I'd graduate. Understandably, the thought of enrolling in a Ph.D. economics program was a dream come true.

I'm a forward thinker, so I started imagining my interactions with my professors and what kind of thesis I'd work on. Although the annual tuition fees would put a great dent in my pocket, I was determined to work for it. I would have to strike a balance between school, family, and side hustles.

But then I got an offer I couldn't refuse.

My friend was working on an intriguing startup idea

While I was still planning for my program that was meant to begin in early fall, I met a friend who talked to me about a startup company he started and was taking off faster than he could keep up. It was exhilarating, and he thought I'd benefit from the experience.

The company wanted to disrupt financial access in underserved economies, and it was doing everything from product development and data modeling to pitching investors.

This friend had always been a dreamer and succeeded in most things he put his mind to. As he assured me, the startup wouldn't be an exception, especially because he had channeled all his savings toward it.

However, he wanted to bring me on board because I had an analytical background in economics. To be honest, the pay he suggested wasn't great, but the opportunity was stellar with potential for growth in skills and finances. My role would involve leveraging my skills in data analysis and understanding market dynamics.

He suggested I take some time to think about it.

I decided to take the job offer

I went back home and spent the majority of my time online looking through the company pages and comparing them to others that were thriving in the same field. It looked promising, and I wanted to be part of something great.

However, the team required someone who would work in the office full time, and logically, I wouldn't be able to be present for classes and work at the same time.

After a lot of back and forth, I thought working for the company was a one-time opportunity, and I was leaning toward it.

I looked up deferral programs and decided to consult with my school to seek their opinion on deferring my course for a year or two and then rejoining. The department didn't have deferrals, and the dean advised against it.

But the faculty told me that I could reapply a year later. I thought, if I was accepted once, I could be accepted again, so I started working for the startup.

The job didn't pan out as I expected

Everything was great in the first half of my work year. We embraced a team spirit, brought a few clients on board, and were on a steady path to growth. However, somewhere in the middle, we lost the plot.

We struggled to fit some of the company's products into a market that wasn't ready, and, most importantly, we faced a severe lack of funding.

After a long time of trying everything we could, the startup folded.

Looking back on my decision

I had mixed feelings about turning down school. In some ways, I feel like a failure. I was depressed and sunk deep into hopelessness. I haven't reapplied to my Ph.D. program yet, and I'm not sure I will anytime soon.

In hindsight, walking away from an opportunity to further my studies so I could join a startup was a risk, but it was also a rewarding experience in itself. I gained immense experience and made connections I wouldn't have made in academia.

I learned what it means to build something from the ground up, even if it doesn't work out.

• I'm a teacher who started experimenting with ChatGPT.
• AI helps me create study guides, bar graphs, and quizzes.
• The technology will never eliminate all of my duties, but it's made me a more efficient teacher.

I was anxious the first time I dabbled in ChatGPT. That's probably an understatement. I actually feared that someone was watching over me, lurking in cyberspace, waiting to sound alarm bells when I typed a certain phrase or combination of words into the blank search bar.

I'm a journalist and journalism educator. I teach kids about sourcing and how to avoid plagiarizing material. In my media ethics class, I ask them to sign a contract saying they won't use other people's material.

So what the heck was I doing playing with AI? And what if I actually liked it?

Spoiler alert: I did, and it's kind of awesome.

ChatGPT has become helpful for me

Teachers have focused so much on how our students might use AI to cheat that we may have forgotten how it can help us in the classroom and at home.

I'm using AI (specifically ChatGPT) in practical, everyday ways.

I recently completed a 16-week intensive ELA and math tutoring program in our local school district. The material I was given for the program didn't work well for my kids, so I ran it through ChatGPT to make it more digestible.

With AI, I can customize my lessons — quickly. Tens and ones review? No problem. Bar graph with ice cream flavors? Done. First grade fractions? Been there, done that, too. I've even started playing around with Bingo designs for fun.

I'm also using AI to play teacher at home. When my 6th grader needs to review states of matter or the history of ancient China, we turn to AI together. ChatGPT whips up multiple-choice quizzes (with answer keys) faster than I can make dinner. The same thing goes for studying India's monsoon season. Once, I even asked AI to create a quiz on how to spot fake news.

I recently looked back on my ChatGPT history and realized how much I had used AI to generate study guides, like the one I made for "The Outsiders," by S.E. Hinton. My son got an A on that quiz.

I don't think AI will ever replace me

As much as I've come to rely on AI, I've learned that it isn't going to solve all my classroom conundrums.

For example, it won't comfort a crying student because he or she did poorly on a test and fears her parents will ground her. AI isn't going to help me decide when a student is sick enough to visit the school nurse. It's not going to help me figure out why a student understands one concept of math but can't grasp another.

But given all the complexities and challenges of being an educator right now, I'll take the help, even if it means double-checking all of the facts.

I'm leaning into AI, but cautiously

I still feel a little guilty when I ask AI to check a sentence's grammar or to eliminate redundancies in my writing. I'm not sure if it's because I asked for help or because the work is often great.

Still, ChatGPT has made me more efficient as a teacher. I can easily whip up study guides that benefit my students and tailor lesson plans to them. All of this frees up time for me to connect with my students more easily and focus on other tasks.

I'm glad I took a leap of faith, and I plan on exploring AI as it continues to grow.

• My 22-year-old daughter moved home after graduating college to save money for a year.
• She's used to having a roommate, but I haven't had anyone else in my house for four years.
• We maintain harmony through shared expenses, chores, and open communication.

My daughter's college graduation hit me profoundly.

I was proud of her, of course, but this graduation, unlike the previous ones (kindergarten, middle school and high school), signaled a change: she's all grown up.

Even though she's moving back home, she's now a 22 year old adult who's been living on her own for the past four years. She's used to roommates — I'm not. This is how we're navigating our new living arrangements.

There's a line between independence and courtesy

My daughter is industrious, working several part-time jobs. She's also building a life, making and maintaining friendships, attending concerts, and indulging in pub crawls. While I don't tell her what to do, I expect the courtesy of communication about her plans so I don't wake up at 2 a.m. wondering where she is.

We follow each other's location on our phones for safety, but I don't abuse this privilege. Knowing she's safely in her bed or at a friend's house helps me rest easy.

We share expenses

Her plan is to work for a year to save money for her master's degree, an endeavor I support. Therefore, I'm keeping her on my phone and insurance accounts so she can save the money she earns. But when she runs to the grocery store for a snack, has a night out, or wants a haircut, that's on her dime.

I'm fortunate to have a job that pays our bills. While I can, I'm happy to give her a leg up.

She has chores

One reason I haven't downsized our family home is I knew she'd be returning. She helps maintain our house by doing chores, and not just unloading the dishwasher, her specialty since middle school. She's become a skilled power washer, deck hole-filler, and painter, and this summer she's rehabbing other wooden features in our yard. I'd have to pay someone else for the light repairs, mulching and staining jobs she's capable of doing, so she earns credit doing them herself.

She's housesitting this summer while I'm traveling, and I left her a hefty list. It had better be done when I get home.

We keep a shared calendar

Our schedules are busy and, since handing over some of the household maintenance, it's important that we both know who's doing what and when.

We have a shared calendar for our work schedules and choreography of daily chores such as cat litter, dishes, laundry and dinner. This allows us to keep track of the schedule and prevents me from nagging, which preserves our relationship.

Communication is key

My daughter and I have always been close and we're good at expressing ourselves, but it's more important now than ever. We each have pet peeves: I hate an unloaded dryer and a stolen hairbrush, she (understandably) hates it when I go to bed and leave a candle burning. It's important to talk about these things as they arise so they don't fester. We've learned to mention them kindly and without frustration, as we share mutual respect for one another.

We treat each other with thoughtfulness

Like any roommates, we consider each others' co-living needs. I rise early for work and want quiet after 9 p.m. so, if she has a friend visiting, they stay downstairs. She loves it when I bring her coffee in bed, and I wait for her to text me the coffee emoji each morning.

I haven't had a roommate in years, but following these guidelines works well and allows us to enjoy each other in a new way — as equals.

• The New York Fed analyzed the mid-career wages of college graduates with a bachelor's degree.
• Graduates aged 35 to 45 in 19 areas of study had a median wage of at least $100,000 a year. 
• Ten of those 19 college majors were related to engineering.

When undergraduate college students choose their majors, there can be several factors that go into their decisions.

But if maximizing one's future earnings is high on their priority list, some areas of study have a better track record than others.

A New York Fed analysis of 2023 American Community Survey data found that college graduates who majored in one of 19 areas of study had a median mid-career wage of at least $100,000 a year. The New York Fed defined mid-career as people between the ages of 35 and 45. The analysis of 73 majors and groups of study only included people with a bachelor's degree — no additional graduate school education — and used what's noted as people's first major.

One general area of study accounted for 10 of the 19 spots: engineering.

Aerospace engineering majors had the top median mid-career wage of $125,000, per the analysis. Three other engineering fields followed behind — computer, chemical, and electrical.

Jaison Abel, the head of microeconomics at the New York Fed, told Business Insider that engineering is a great example of the type of college major that has the quantitative skills businesses tend to want.

"There is a bit of a premium on the demand side, and also these are relatively challenging majors to get through," Abel said. "When you've got quite a bit of demand for the skills and not as much supply of the types of people who are coming in, that's going to make wages overall go up and be high."

Computer science, economics, and finance were the three non-engineering majors with the highest mid-career median wages. Across all the majors analyzed, the median mid-career wage was $83,000 a year.

While the prospect of high mid-career earnings is likely attractive to many students, this appeal hinges on actually landing a job in their field of study — a feat that has become increasingly difficult for some college graduates.

A New York Fed analysis of unemployment data showed 5.8% of recent college graduates in the labor force between the ages of 22 and 27 were unemployed in March, up from 3.9% in October 2022. Absent the pandemic-related spike and its recovery over the next year, that's the highest rate since 2013.

Student loans and the cost of college may affect how a degree is valued

As college tuition rates have risen in recent decades, many Americans have taken on a considerable amount of student debt. In 2024 dollars, the average price for tuition and fees at private nonprofit, four-year schools has increased 30% from the 2004-05 academic year to $43,350 for the 2024-25 academic year. Public, four-year in-state schools are much cheaper, but their average cost has also climbed during that timeframe. Housing and food expenses make the cost of school even higher.

The average American consumer with student loans had a debt balance of about $35,000 as of the third quarter of last year, per Experian data. That's a decline from the average in the third quarter of 2023.

This changing landscape has caused some people to question whether college is a worthwhile investment. In response to these concerns, some high school graduates have gone straight to the workforce, while others have opted for alternative paths, like community college or trade schools.

Not all job openings require someone to have a particular level of education. However, sometimes a college degree is preferred for a job seeker. Automaker Stellantis said in a previous statement that "most non-bargaining unit positions (salaried) require an associate's or bachelor's degree," but also noted that "for some positions, a degree might be a preferred qualification which would open those up to people who can demonstrate proficiency in other ways."

College graduates who majored in early childhood education had the lowest median mid-career wage, at $49,000 a year. Other types of education majors had relatively low mid-career median wages, such as secondary education.

• After graduating from Yale, I moved back in with my parents in a low-income building in Brooklyn.
• When I was growing up, I became close with all my neighbors who struggled with poverty.
• Returning home after living on an Ivy League campus has been confusing.

Four years ago, when people asked me which part of college I was most excited for, I always said having my own room.

Yale's dorms were a welcome change from the living conditions in my Brooklyn neighborhood. On the outside, the place my parents rented looked like any other two or three-family house, but inside, every floor was leased out to multiple families.

My upbringing was many things: love and a chorus of voices that included a Vietnam War veteran, four children, and an expert crocheter. They were all my neighbors — many of them low-income. Every evening, we gathered for communal dinners, sharing stories and laughs. But privacy was never part of the equation.

I left that environment for the private world of the Ivy League, living in dorms that radiated privilege.

And then I blinked, and last May, I graduated. After four years, I stepped out of the privilege, access, and relentless ambition that Yale had afforded me and returned to my family's Brooklyn home.

Moving home after college was a jump back to reality

When I arrived at my apartment after graduation, the first thing I did was hug one of the younger tenants, a 10-year-old girl I consider my sister. She waited for me at the door with flowers — a belated graduation present, she said. Later that evening, with her mother's permission, we took the N train to her favorite spot: Coney Island Beach and Boardwalk.

We had to make a pit stop at Coney's Cones, of course. Inside, she stood on her tiptoes, squinting at the selection of gelato and sorbet. "Eyeglasses," I wrote in my notepad of things to buy for her. I leaned down and whispered, "Don't look at the prices. Get anything."

Once we were seated, I asked how things had been. She told me that they were the same. At school, she enjoys math but dislikes writing, and the staircases in the projects still reek of cigarettes, but at least the neighbor's cat comes by once in a while to play with her.

"It's kind of lonely without you here," she suddenly blurted.

I tried to explain that I had to leave for college, that it wasn't about her. I wanted to say something — to fix her loneliness, her abandonment — but my mouth was just a home for my teeth. I reached for her hand, and we exited the café, heading toward the line to purchase Ferris wheel tickets.

I couldn't help grow solemn. The sad reality of building relationships with other tenants is that there is nothing more we wish than to see each other leave the situation we find ourselves in. No one wishes to live in the projects forever. This means saying goodbye at some point — and leaving loved ones behind.

I'm now thinking more about what it meant to be at Yale

An elite education doesn't guarantee stability or a sense of belonging, especially not for first-generation graduates navigating the job market. We often lack a safety net and carry the weight of family responsibilities. What my Ivy League education does offer is a chance: the foundation to build a future for myself and my family.

Still, many of my neighbors and friends remain where they've always been, caught in cycles of poverty, domestic trauma, and systemic injustice. The pandemic only further crippled those living at or under the poverty line.

College was never the finish line. It was the beginning of a more complicated story — one in which I must navigate ambition with memory, privilege with purpose, and personal advancement with a renewed commitment to support others in my community through their struggles, especially those without access to open doors.

But the truth is, it took a village for me to get to Yale, and many of my greatest supporters were not related to me by blood.

I'm trying to reconcile my future with my family's and neighbors'

Inside the Ferris wheel gondola, just as we were about to reach the top, my apartment-mate proudly took out a fluffy purse that I had bought for her 8th birthday. It was heavy, full of coins. She told me that her mother began paying her 50 cents for taking out the trash or washing the dishes, and one of our neighbors occasionally hires her to water his plants.

"Wow, you're rich," I said, nudging her playfully.

We laughed, and the setting sun caught our faces. In the distance, the waves rolled back and forth, and I wondered how many more times I'd get to share these moments with her before the world pulled us apart again. I won't let it.

• Emma Bayer of Georgia has been applying for scholarships since 9th grade.
• She's secured a lot of in funding, enough to pay for two years of college.
• When her dad died unexpectedly, the scholarship funds gave her peace of mind.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with college student Emma Bayer. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I was never worried about paying for college. I'm an only child, and was the only grandchild until I was 15. I knew that my extended family would help me pay for college. My parents and extended family felt that college was important in order to have a career, not just a job.

Yet, I've always been someone who is driven. I like doing things that are worth my time and effort. I realized early on that applying for scholarships would pay off — both figuratively and literally.

Today, I've secured more than 20 scholarships, which is enough to pay for at least my first two years of college. I'm studying equine barn design and farming infrastructure, and just finished up my freshman year. Although I'm now working toward my degree, I'm still applying for scholarships and hoping to get more.

I started applying in the 9th grade

Early on I knew that scholarships would be available through organizations that I was part of, like Girl Scouts and H4. Once that was on my radar I started joining organizations that had scholarship opportunities, like the National Society of High School Scholars.

I won my first scholarships my freshman year of high school, through a local youth organization. They were worth $300 and $500 — not the biggest sum, but those little amounts added up.

Receiving those scholarships upped my motivation. When you see yourself succeed and know that's an investment in your future, it makes you want to apply yourself.

I spent hundreds of hours applying for scholarships

Throughout high school I applied for more and more scholarships, reaching a peak my junior and senior years.

Senior year, I applied for more than 70 scholarships; during my freshman year of college I applied for about 40 more. I have a spreadsheet with deadlines, reward amounts, and application requirements.

I've spent hundreds of hours applying for scholarships. Sometimes that impacted the time I spend with friends. Still, the sacrifice was worth it. I really saw the value in what I was doing.

By the time I started my freshman year at Abraham Baldwin Agricultural College, I had enough scholarship funding to cover tuition, plus room and board.

That removed so much pressure; I didn't have to worry about finding a job or cutting costs because I had already put in the work.

Scholarships gave me peace of mind after my dad died

During my freshman year, my dad died unexpectedly. It was devastating. I decided to transfer to Kennesaw State University and live at home for my sophomore year. It was just too hard being away from my family after my dad died.

Amid my grief, my scholarships gave me huge peace of mind. It was a massive weight off my shoulders, knowing that my first year of school without him will be paid for. I can focus on education, my horses, and healing, without having to fight to keep my opportunity for a college education.

The funding has been a confidence booster

Getting so many scholarships has boosted my confidence. It's not about my ego, but more about the fact that people are recognizing the work I'm doing in my communities.

It was especially meaningful when I received an athletic scholarship. As an equestrian, it was great to see my sport recognized when it's often overlooked for more mainstream sports.

I've realized there's a scholarship for everybody, especially if you're involved in your community. Applying takes work, but it's worth it. Student loans are such a burden, and for me, scholarships have meant that I don't need to dig myself a financial hole when I'm really trying to give myself a leg up by securing a college education.

• We started our family young and quickly realized the importance of planning for our child's future.
• Despite more immediate financial pressures, we prioritize our child's 529 savings plan.
• We are now committed to long-term financial planning and legacy building.

In 2021, my husband and I were only one year into postgraduate life and very new to marriage. At the time, our financial literacy left a lot to be desired, and being new parents only complicated all of this.

As our son grew month after month, we started thinking more seriously about his future and that of our family.

The phrase heard so often, "The days are long, but the years are short," started to feel very real as we navigated the first year with our son. We knew that while the day-to-day may feel overwhelming, many years from now, we'll look back and wonder if we had made the most of the years that flashed before us in a blink.

That's when I knew it was time to start saving for my son's future.

We chose a 529 plan

Our knowledge of financial planning for the future was limited. Being a researcher by nature, I scoured the internet, listened to podcasts, and spent more time than I'd like to admit playing with projection calculators. This carried on for months, and when our son was nearly a year old, I opened a 529 account in his name.

I chose this route for a few reasons: tax-free growth and withdrawals, the freedom to apply the funds to trade schools and more alternative paths of education, and the ability to use the funds for his K-12 schooling.

We've contributed to our now four-year-old son's 529 college savings plan every month since, even when it's not been easy. It's not a flashy or exciting decision, and it's not one that we made because we simply have piles of extra money lying around.

Like most parents of young kids, we're juggling the usual financial pressures: a mortgage and costs of homeownership, a car payment and vehicle maintenance, high grocery costs, and the real, ongoing expense of raising a child in today's economy.

But this particular choice to invest regularly in our child's future, even when other needs compete for our dollars, has become a cornerstone of our family's financial mindset.

Our small contributions still add up

At first, the contributions were small — $25 here, $50 there —whatever we could manage in those early months.

But gradually, I stopped seeing it as a "nice-to-have" and started treating it like a non-negotiable. Today, it's baked into our monthly budget, right alongside the mortgage and the utility bills.

We know we won't be able to cover every dollar of our son's future training and education, and that's OK. The point isn't perfection. It's preparation.

Now and as he grows, we will be intentional about modeling the value of hard work and financial stewardship. He'll know that while we've saved and planned ahead for him, he will also have a role to play in his education —through effort, responsibility, and ownership of his own goals.

Preparing for his future is part of our legacy

It's hard to think long-term when short-term costs are constantly staring you in the face. And yet, I believe that choosing to save for our child's future, even when it requires trade-offs today, is a powerful act.

More than a financial decision, it's one rooted in legacy. What does it really mean to raise kids while also building a life shaped by purpose, stewardship, and vision? For me, it looks like this: planning for the future while still being present, setting systems in place that reflect our values, and staying the course — even when things aren't perfect.

Of course, there are seasons when saving takes a backseat to survival. I know what it's like to weigh the cost of diapers against car repairs or a new HVAC system. But I've also learned that progress requires consistency and a willingness to begin, even if it's small.

So every month, we keep showing up for our future and that of our son. Quietly, steadily, and with a lot of heart.

One day, when he's old enough to ask why we made the choices we did, I hope he'll see that we believed in his potential, that we thought ahead, and that we made room for his future in the middle of our very full present.

Because to us, that's what legacy really is: not grand gestures, but intentional ones.

• My son didn't know what college he wanted to go to or what to major in.
• Instead of taking a gap year to figure it out, he enrolled in college anyway.
• He regrets that decision, but at least, he enrolled in a community college to save money.

My son is in grad school and loving what he's studying. But it wasn't an easy road to get here.

He was unsure about undergrad at first, chose a random major, and regretted it come graduation day. Looking back, he wonders if he should've taken a gap year between high school and college to figure out what he really wanted.

We've recently both reflected on his undergraduate years. It's clear he made some mistakes, but he found his way and is on the right path now.

My son felt rushed into a college decision

In hindsight, my son wasn't ready for college and didn't know what he wanted to do.

He was coming off four insanely busy and stressful years of high school. He simply didn't have the time to process or even consider his future.

I wish we'd discussed a gap year or delaying college, which would have given him time to figure out the right move for him, instead of following what was expected.

He agrees. He told me he often wishes he hadn't gone into college so quickly.

We should've had more honest conversations about his major

During May of his senior year, my son struggled. It was time to graduate and figure out what's next.

For most careers, college isn't the place where you learn about what the day-to-day is like, how to get an entry-level role, and what you'll earn.

It wasn't until he was job searching in those last few months of school that my son really learned about entry-level opportunities in his field.

The actual day-to-day work wasn't what he had been learning about in school, and the pay was quite low.

He knew that if he wanted to continue pursuing this career path, he'd need a master's degree, probably a doctorate. He figured he'd need five more years and $60,000 of schooling for something he really wasn't sure he wanted to do.

He shared that he was quickly learning the whole philosophy he had been told in high school and college was wrong: "You can't go to college for four years and get a decent job. For most professions, it's just not true," he told me.

I wish he had become involved in an activity earlier

Beyond the choices he made early on in his college career, he also made some mistakes during his first couple of years on campus.

He was a coed cheerleader in high school but didn't want that level of commitment anymore. He was simply too burned out from high school cheer to participate on his college campus. This was another incident where a gap year could've helped.

We both wish he had done an activity in those first years, but he eventually joined cheerleading as a junior. He made new friends and had memorable experiences cheering at games and nationals.

Luckily, my son went to community college first to save money

We live in Illinois, and state schools are expensive here. For the 2023-2024 school year, Illinois in-state tuition averaged $18,155.

Therefore, he made a great decision: He enrolled in an excellent community college, which was a more affordable way to explore majors and adapt to having more independence. He saved thousands by exploring what he wanted to study at a cheaper school.

He then attended the UWM in his sophomore year. He lived on campus, and the cost was about $18,000 a year.

Although it was a bumpy road, my son finally found his passion a few years after graduation when he started therapy.

Now he's studying to be a licensed professional counselor and recommends knowing what you want to do before college. He says work in the field, have personal experiences, and talk to people on the job. Enroll when you have figured out what you have a true passion for.

• Julie Beckham is a financial educator and mom of two.
• Her daughter is a high school senior, and her son is about to graduate from college.
• She's had honest conversations about the cost of college since they were young.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Julie Beckham, assistant vice president of financial education and development and strategy officer at Rockland Trust Bank. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up in a middle-class family and was lucky to have my parents pay for my education at New York University. NYU was still expensive back in the 1990s, but it was the type of expensive that a middle-class family could still afford with a moderate amount of sacrifice.

Today, as a financial educator, I still consider myself middle class, but there's no way I could pay the entire cost of college education for my two kids, who are 18 and 21. That's true for many families, thanks to the skyrocketing cost of college.

Because of that, I've been very intentional about talking with my kids about paying for college — from the time they started high school.

Here's how we've planned together to manage the cost.

Choose more affordable schools

Schools with a lower profile yet more affordable tuition can offer a better return on investment for many families. Getting kids to consider these can be tricky since colleges are so good at marketing. Sometimes, going to a "name brand" school is less about the degree and more about the swag.

Ask your kids what they love about a well-known school. Then, provide alternatives that have that same characteristic, at a lower price point. Boston College is popular near where I live because of its football culture, but the same vibe can be found elsewhere for a much lower price.

I've told my kids to consider schools that may not be well-known or have all the swag but are nonetheless special. These schools can give talented students more financial aid and a chance to stand out.

Understand what you can afford, and tell your kids

As my kids approached college age, their dad and I talked about the amount that we could afford to pay toward their education. It's based on what works for each of our budgets.

My kids are expected to pay the difference between the cost of their college and what we're able to cover as their parents.

I recommend parents be very honest about what they can afford, so students can decide whether they're willing to take on student loan debt to cover other costs.

Ditch the guilt about what you can't cover

Sometimes I feel guilty that I can't pay for their whole education. But this is my reality and what I can reasonably afford.

Although I'm a financial educator, I didn't have the means to start saving for college until my kids were in their teens. When I did, it was very simple: transferring a small portion of each paycheck to a savings account I named "college." It wasn't a 529 college savings plan, it wasn't a lot of money, and it wasn't very sophisticated, but it was a start.

It's easy to criticize ourselves as parents, but we need to acknowledge we're often doing the best we can for our kids.

Apply for grants and scholarships

Small grants and scholarships might seem insignificant against the huge bill for college, but they add up. You think $500 isn't going to make a dent, but when you're paying $80 for a book, you realize $500 can be helpful.

I helped my kids apply by researching opportunities, reminding them of deadlines, and encouraging them to work on applications. Sometimes they weren't happy to write another essay, but I reminded them it would take an hour and they could get hundreds of dollars.

Ask for more financial aid

Once you've applied to schools and received your financial aid packages, you might notice significant differences in how much aid your student gets from each school. If that's the case, you can ask a school to match what a comparable school has provided.

I've tried this twice. Once, I called the financial aid office, and they said they couldn't make changes. But another time, I was asked to email the other offer, and they'd see if they could adjust the financial aid package. It never hurts to ask.

Consider graduating early

My son is about to graduate from college a year early, which is a huge savings for our family. He did it by taking advanced placement (AP) classes in high school and earning a few extra credits during college. It was hard work, but it will likely save our family thousands of dollars.

College brings up a lot of feelings for parents and kids. There's so much pressure to get this step right. It's helpful to remember that this is just the first of many steps. Although it feels important, it's the decisions we make every day that really impact our lives.