Why, Mr. L.?

Mr.L.,
Did I do something?
You say that it was the house we bought. My father makes too much. I can’t come back next year because you won’t give me financial aid anymore.
We had to move. I had to be a day student so it was cheaper, even though I live nearly an hour away from school. When my father changed jobs, he would have commuted four hours total everyday. Our stuff didn’t fit in our old house, my grandmother’s garage and basement was full of our belongings in storage.
So we moved. To a house, not much bigger, mind you, than our old one. We moved so that I could continue to be a daystudent to save money. We bought a house that was more expensive because this area of the state is more expensive.
What we didn’t expect was that our other house wouldn’t sell, for an entire year. My parents carried three morgages for a year. Depleting thier retirement savings. They sold all of their stocks. I have no college fund, they have no retirement fund. Its all my fault. They did it for me, and we all got screwed over.
About this “your salary is too high” thing, my father is making less money this year than he did last year. I went from paying about fifteen thousand dollars a year to nearly forty thousand.
I know its because of the basketball players. All of your treasured basketball players. Your old ones are leaving and you need new basketball players. The funny thing about the boys that you coach (this is, of course a stereotype. Like many stereotypes it is also true) is that they come from economically “diverse” backgrounds.
They shouldn’t allow the head coach of Varsity Basketball at a New England Prep School (whose only notable sport is basketball) to singlehandedly control the financial aid descisions.
Screw you, f**ker. You ruined my life. You couldn’t just let me have senior year.
With regret,
Me

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