Caro Williams-Pierce, a professor at the University of Maryland, was born and raised in Cherryfield. She now lives in College Park, Maryland. 

I was born and raised in Cherryfield, a tiny town between Ellsworth and Machias. My loving family was working class. Dad was a carpenter in the summer and logger in the winter. Mom stayed at home, cleaning, cooking, planting and harvesting enormous gardens, pickling and canning vegetables, stretching every dollar.

I went to high school in Harrington, then in Limestone, and got my bachelor’s degree from the University of Maine at Fort Kent. I worked a lot of different jobs — waitress, bartender, cook, flagger at construction sites, tutor, dorm mom — and when I got into graduate school, I was so excited! I loved learning, and I loved studying how other people learn — and if I worked while I was in graduate school, I could almost afford it. 

In 2007, President Bush signed the Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program. I sighed in relief. My goal was to teach at a public university, which doesn’t always pay well even though it requires very expensive credentials. I took the president of the United States of America at his word: if I worked hard and studied hard, and dedicated my life to the common good of our incredible country, my loans would be forgiven after 10 years. 

Even then, I was careful to not take out too many loans — I took on additional work every chance I got. I tutored middle school students in math, picked up consulting gigs at private and public institutions, worked in my professors’ labs nonstop and applied for every scholarship I could. 

Now, I’m a professor at the University of Maryland, and one year away from finishing my 10-year commitment. But loan forgiveness is a mess, and there are millions of Americans just like me who are being jerked around — even though we fulfilled our part of the bargain. We worked hard, studied hard, ran into burning buildings, moved around the world for the National Guard, risked our lives treating COVID patients, taught other people’s children how to share. 

Now, the federal government keeps changing everything. My loans were managed by one company, then transferred to another that never even got all my information up to date before my loans were transferred again.

Most of my news about loans comes from newspapers, because on the rare occasion I get information directly from the government, it’s weeks late and doesn’t actually say anything about my loan. It’s just a vague announcement of complicated legal changes that may or may not apply to me.

And it’s terrifying. If it does apply to me, it might result in me losing my house or having my wages garnished or something else equally terrible. I can’t even tell, because the legalese is so long, and so dense, and so confusing. 

Now, President Trump has ordered the closure of the Department of Education, and is threatening even more changes to the Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program. Changes that will be announced buried in 200-page documents, written by lawyers who don’t care if I understand what’s happening to my life.

I took President Bush at his word: that poor people can go to college, work hard, serve their country and have a good future. Now, the loan amount is more than I borrowed, and one message is coming through loud and clear: I can’t trust that America will deliver on its promise.

So, time to remind the Trump administration and the Republican Party: when public servants keep their word, America should too.