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256 pages, Hardcover
First published July 15, 2025
“You haven’t been reading the news? Apparently not paying your loans back is criminal behavior, so they can treat you like shit, because nobody cares about criminals.”
The thing about being first-generation college was that no one we knew had any idea what the hell we were supposed to be doing there other than taking some classes and hoping they added up to a grand theory of our lives. So she’d spent six years paying a college to figure herself out, resulting in a number she owed that, due to its amount and the interest rate she’d got on it, would follow her around, like a puppy in search of attention, for the rest of her life.
Audrey had the slim twitchiness I’d always associated with runners. An inner motor that kept them in constant motion, like a cockroach.
Even good-looking Black cops are the mouse that’s just taking a nap in the snake’s mouth.
We hugged in the awkward way two women hug when they’re trying not to fuck up their makeup. All tucked-back heads like surprised baby birds.
I hated how the term was “lifetime of the loan,” like that fucking loan had just as much of a right to live as I did.
My student loan company was called Bobbie Mae and Willie Sue, like the two of them would lend you money and then immediately report to the sock hop to square-dance.
I’d looked up who had student debt in this country. Black women ranked number one. First, we screwed up by not coming from money. Then we demanded the same education as everyone else. But when we finished our studies, they paid us the least, leaving us with higher balances to carry forward. Forever. So of course we’d be most of the victims. The debt cops could make an example of us. We were at the bottom of the social hierarchy, and the pay scale, and so whatever happened to our faces could be one more thing nobody really cared about.