By Reyna Katko
Growing up, my family didn’t always have a ton of money. My mother provided an amazing life for me, but she couldn’t afford to pay for my out-of-state college education on a teacher’s salary. I knew the University of Missouri was my dream school because of its broadcast journalism program, so I applied for every single scholarship I possibly could. I still had a few thousand each semester to pay out of pocket to cover tuition costs.
While I worried about finances, I had a bigger problem to face: I was the only kid from my high school coming to Mizzou. Like any other 18-year-old girl, I wanted to fit in, so I joined several clubs despite the financial strain.
People always joke about how Greek life is “paying for your friends,” but in a sense, you are. You’re paying for an experience, and along the way you make your handful of friends. As an out-of-state student, I decided the best way to make friends fast would be to join a sorority. However, socializing costs money, and it’s not like my minimum wage summer job was footing the bill for sorority events. To pay for the lifestyle I wanted, I needed to get a handful of part-time jobs while being a full-time student.
While not necessarily ideal, I preferred jobs I could do on-campus. Sure, the university might not have the best pay, but all my coworkers were my age. I viewed the jobs as a chance to make friends while earning cash. That way, the fun was in the work, and it killed two birds with one stone. At one point, I had three campus jobs at the same time. This was partially out of necessity, as the COVID-19 pandemic hit the spring semester of my freshman year. During that era, most part-time jobs weren’t offering enough hours to pay the bills, let alone any extra expenses. However, even after the pandemic safety protocols eased up, I chose to keep my jobs for as long as I could.
My average day consisted of at least two shifts for separate jobs and three classes before squeezing in homework, a club meeting, or hanging out with friends. Because of the packed schedule, I found it convenient to work on-campus because it saved time in-between classes.
For the most part, this jam-packed schedule worked for me, as I’ve always loved to keep busy. However, it eventually took its toll. I often had to choose between work or sorority bonding events. I needed to get special exemptions from required organization events such as building homecoming floats because my schedule was too packed to devote the 10 hours a week to sitting in a frat basement building decorations. I was working more to pay for these experiences, only to not be able to enjoy those opportunities. No matter how much I worked or shopped at Aldi or thrifted my clothes, I wasn’t saving enough money. I was just digging a deeper hole, and it felt counterintuitive.
After two years, I dropped my sorority because the lifestyle I was pursuing was no longer sustainable. This saved me thousands of dollars a year and allowed me to quit one of my campus jobs to protect my mental health. While I loved my sorority sisters, I felt so much relief with the amount of free time and money I was saving. The socials weren’t worth that stress, and my real friends from the chapter would remain, even without the “sister” title.
While I don’t regret my choice to come to Mizzou, I do think I might have bitten off more than I could chew. If I could do it all over again, I think I would have waited until my sophomore year to rush and save up my money.
I could have made friends in other free organizations or through my classes. When you’re 18 and the new girl, you don’t think about relocation fees and the costs for living outside of the necessities. You’re just too busy worrying about fitting in and making a good impression. However, as a 22-year-old woman, you realize you should never put yourself in a position to skip meals to buy date party dresses you’ll wear once and coolers for frat formals with boys you barely know.
Reyna Katko is a graduating senior at the University of Missouri
