It was almost midnight, and I was starving. The weather seemed to encourage my appetite; I sat next to the window of Portland’s Hotcake House, which unsurprisingly offered a view of rain and darkness. The morose weather outside created such a stark contrast with the swelling warmth inside the Hotcake House, with aromas of grilled food swirling under my nose. The jams smelled more sweet, the burgers more seasoned and flavorful. I had never eaten with the people I came with before. They were white affluent friends of mine, with dyed hair and Doc Martens, an expensive brand of shoes. I never thought I’d end up in a situation where I ate with them, but finals weeks at Reed College means people disappear without a trace left behind. Most of my friends are from California, so once they finished their finals they booked it to sun-soaked California as soon as possible, otherwise the constant rain kept my other friends in their rooms, studying. When this happens, what I do is hit up friends I’ll occasionally hang out with or eat with at the cafeteria, and spend more time with those friends- who in this case, are white and havr money. Here I was, incredibly hungry and eating the free jam pancake places offer at tables, beside the salt and pepper shakers, and the ketchup. That was my meal with these kids, and they politely ignored it, while I noticed the discomfort in their faces and the darting glances from my pile of empty jam packets to their own hash browns or hotcakes. I wonder if they would ever understand that I simply ran out of money and my parents didn’t have any more to give. Yet I couldn’t refuse to go out to eat with them, because often in colleges with really intense workloads, it is a special gesture to leave the campus with them, as it requires planning and effort. There are friends you hang out with on campus, and those you also hang out with off campus, and the differentiation between them is quite immense to me. I was in this situation because I had run out of board points, which are basically a system of paying for food covered when paid by tuition. This usually happens to low income students because financial aid covers the cheapest meal plan, or the one with the least meals per day. As a first year student, I didn’t cook and had enough on my mind trying to adjust to college and classes, so I rapidly used board points and money. Money rapidly diminishes for me, as I came to realize everything I took for granted lying around the house cost money: hygienic products, furniture, and cleaning products. To offset the cost of laundry, I bought a lot of underwear and don’t wash any clothes unless I’ve worn them to the point where there is noticeable dirt or a noticeable smell. However, colleges often have programs or events where there is free food, especially toward the end of the semester, as board points run scarce. Reed has the “stim table,” or stimulation table, in which there is free food for students too immersed in studying to leave the library. I ate at this table for every meal, because I didn’t ration my board points and money. I don’t want to scare students reading this blog, and emphasize that this could have been prevented with careful budgeting. I suggest instead of going out to eat at restaurants, convince your rich friends that making food together would be more fun and relaxing. I have saved a lot of money thrift shopping for clothes, or limiting my shopping trips to when stores have huge sales. Remember to keep the future in mind when you spend; you don’t want to end up with a desolate pile of empty jam packets as a testament with how careful you were with your money.
