Andrea Vasquez is a Maine-based educator and doctoral student at the University of Southern Maine, where her research focuses on how American families navigate college financing decisions. The views expressed are her own and do not represent the university.

Every spring, kitchen tables across Maine become sites of some of the most consequential — and least supported — financial decisions students (and families) will make. College financing decisions, demanding a cost-benefit analysis that could make seasoned economists scratch their heads, are typically navigated alone, kept fiercely private and shadowed by substantial social pressure and guilt.

While college choice is talked about openly, college financing rarely is, despite being one of the most significant financial decisions a young adult will face. The information is confusing, the numbers are daunting and the weight of a young person’s hopes and dreams sits heavy in the room while families try to make sense of it all.

Even as a professional working in higher education, I was unprepared for the complexity and terms I encountered when playing a supporting role in my own two children’s college decisions — including interest rates on federal Parent PLUS loans that hover around 9%.

Although I had color-coded spreadsheets and loan calculators at our table, we ultimately called in the experts at the Finance Authority of Maine to make sure we had the information sorted and that my children had a realistic picture of what their options were. And what taking on significant debt would mean for their futures.

This investment, while important and often necessary, is inherently uncertain, and the financial risks can be substantial and long-lasting. Phillip Levine, a Wellesley College economist, recently argued in the Chronicle of Higher Education that college is more affordable than most families realize. His data showed that for the majority of middle-class families, average annual college net costs (including financial aid offers) range from approximately $14,000 to nearly $49,000, depending on income level and institution type.

For a four-year degree, that translates to a total of $56,000 to $196,000. And those figures don’t account for the tuition increases that are certain to occur. These cost realities fall particularly hard on Maine families, given that Maine has the lowest median household income in New England.

What makes this especially serious is that bankruptcy discharge, the last-resort safeguard in cases of financial ruin, is virtually unavailable for educational loans. Unlike almost every other form of consumer debt, student loans can follow borrowers for life. Between 2001 and 2019, the number of Social Security beneficiaries seeing reduced benefits due to garnishments related to outstanding student loans rose from approximately 6,200 to 192,300. Many borrowers carry this debt well into retirement — a reality few families fully reckon with at the kitchen table.

In the end, our family was fortunate. Both of my children had the information they needed to make responsible decisions, determining what level of debt was worth taking on. They couldn’t have done so as readily, though, without honest, early conversations about financial realities, our contributions and the limits of federal borrowing options.

For dependent students, federal direct loan limits are $5,500 for the first year and $31,000 in total — figures that often fall far short of actual college costs, leaving families (and additional loans) to fill the gap.

Too many students are navigating this without adequate tools or information. Many are relying on incomplete guidance, receiving support from adults who — like most of us — last navigated these decisions decades ago, when the terms, costs and policy landscape were fundamentally different. This is not being talked about, or addressed, nearly enough.

So, what can we do? We can start by normalizing these conversations, speaking openly with our kids and mentees about financial realities and helping them become loan-literate before they sign.

Not every student has a family table to sit at — which makes community resources all the more essential. We can make our voices heard by policymakers drawing attention to a growing societal burden.

The families sitting at those kitchen tables this spring deserve better than confusion and silence. Let’s make sure they have what they need.