This article is open to all free of cost, as the reporting for this entire series was made possible by a grant from the Poynter Institute with support from the Joyce Foundation.
Read all of our reporting on the American Rescue Plan Act’s impact in Ashland County here. If you have any questions for the reporter, send her an email at mariah@ashlandsource.com.
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ASHLAND — The past two days, we’ve published stories on Ashland Source detailing how Ashland University spent its COVID relief money.
For me, and perhaps for you as well, there are still questions remaining.
One in particular keeps ringing in my head: How did students spend the $10.6 million AU distributed in direct aid?
Only individual students have the answers to that question — and they weren’t required to share those answers.
That’s not specific to AU either — in general, universities did not have oversight as to how students spent those checks. Many universities said it helped them keep students enrolled who were at risk of dropping out without that aid.
Still, information about how millions of dollars were spent is a data point that’s untraceable.
As a reporter and a tax-paying citizen, I find the lack of oversight into how this money was spent to be frustrating.
If you’re a citizen of Ashland feeling that same way after reading these stories, I completely empathize with you.
But, I also have a different perspective to share. I was a student during COVID, and I received that money, too.
COVID college
I vividly remember when the COVID pandemic struck in March 2020. I was a freshman at the University of Montana, and received an email days before my spring break that classes wouldn’t resume in person afterwards.
Then, after returning to my dorm post-break, we started getting emails urging us to choose an early move-out date. I was uncertain whether I’d receive any type of refund for the two months I was supposed to live there, but wouldn’t anymore. Eventually, I did receive that refund.
My sophomore year, I paid full tuition for an in-person semester. I moved back to my college town and paid rent for my first apartment there — a studio, so I could socially distance myself without worrying about roommates.
At least part of the semester was supposed to take place in classrooms and in person.
But that quickly changed as COVID spread on campus. Every class I was taking and activity I participated in transitioned online, one-by-one, until my experience that semester was completely remote.
Online classes remained normal at my school after that. Many of my friends struggled with that. I did too. Connecting with peers and professors alike required extra effort, effort that was difficult to expend with Zoom fatigue.
I watched throughout my sophomore year as friends left school for either their physical or mental health.
The point: Back then, things were incredibly uncertain. Even though COVID was a challenge everyone was dealing with, having a college experience completely shaped by the pandemic was its own beast.
The federal government did something about the challenges everyone was facing, students included. It chose to deal with it by providing students with relief.
Receiving relief
While in college, I was a student who didn’t have huge financial needs. My parents — both teachers — had a college account they’d paid into since I was born, and that helped cover many of my expenses. Plus, I received a full-ride academic scholarship that covered my tuition.
I was lucky for that, but I also worked hard to make that full-ride count.
I worked three jobs at a time for most of my college experience: writing for my student newspaper, juggling internships and customer service gigs along with it. COVID became a reason to lock in, filling my schedule more and more.
I was responsible, and tried to be smart about my spending and saving.
But, I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t grateful to receive COVID relief money, especially after all the turmoil the pandemic put me through.
From Higher Education Emergency Relief Fund III, the iteration that fell under the American Rescue Plan Act, I received two payments of $650 each. I went back and checked my tuition bills to find out how much I received as I reported on these stories.
If memory serves me well, I added that money to my savings account. I used it as part of the down payment for my first car.
On transparency
We’ve asked every entity that’s been a part of this series how they spent their money, down to the cent. Since many were public, they were required to provide those records.
Over the course of this series, our finding has largely been that the city, villages, townships, county and schools spent their ARPA money how it was intended to be spent.
Still, that transparency about how those dollars impacted our community is powerful, and important.
Students didn’t have to share those same things.
But Kyle Doershuk did. And now, I have. You’ve heard perspectives from a pair of students who received those funds.
Sure, not every student who received that money may have been responsible about it. Some might’ve bought X-boxes, or plane tickets. That wasn’t the point of the money, but without oversight, it’s certainly plausible.
But if that money helped even one student stick around at school by letting them buy groceries, fix their car or take care of their children, it helped them get through an incredibly difficult time.
In unprecedented times, grace is a virtue.
As someone who was at college during this time, the grace I watched so many of my peers exercise as we navigated the pandemic was immeasurable.
I think they’ve earned some going their way.
