Three months before graduation, I found out I was $12,000 short on tuition and about to be kicked out. Behind the science building, the campus janitor I barely knew handed me an envelope that turned my whole life sideways.I was a 21-year-old engineering student, three months from graduating from a state college. First-gen, orphaned at 16 after my parents died in a car accident, I’d been scraping by on warehouse night shifts, weekend calculus tutoring, and cheap food. I was exhausted, but I was proud I’d made it that far on my own.

The one steady presence in those years was Mr. Tomlinson, an elderly janitor. We met freshman year when frat guys knocked his lunch tray out of his hands; I split my sandwich with him, and we talked baseball—my dad’s favorite sport.One afternoon, I got an email calling me into the financial aid office. I expected a routine issue.Instead, the counselor told me I was $12,000 short on tuition for my final semester. My pneumonia hospital stay and the loss of my campus job had put my account behind. Without full payment by 5 p.m. the next day, I’d be out.I argued and begged, but she just repeated policy.