Reflections on Denial

[This post is the first in a series of several installments. Moreover, if you're interested in sharing your story of what's it likes to either be, or not be, in denial about having student loans, please contact me (ccrynjohannsen@gmail.com), and I'll include your own reflections on the subject. Anonymity is highly valued here, so I wouldn't use your name, if that's what you request.]

Denial has a way of singing to people, especially if they are addicts. Even when addicts know that they are not supposed to take that first step in abusing whatever it is that makes them feel better, that there will be consequences, they still do it anyway and forget about everything else. If addicts do not have support, these addictions can destroy them. Even worse, those who have sought the path to recovery oftentimes find themselves lured back to that which is most lethal for them, and it's Denial, that lurking "pal," who is always there to assist in these setbacks. Of course, one doesn't have to be an addict to understand the power of Denial, especially when it comes to the student lending crisis and student loan debt. Indeed, in this case, denial is two-fold. First, let's talk about the borrowers.

As a result of being in touch with hundreds upon hundreds of indentured educated citizens, I encounter people who express an array of emotions and attitudes about:

(a) their own student loan debt
(b) the student lending crisis
(c) the lack of Government attention to the crisis
(d) etc., etc., etc.

Recently, I had a conversation with a highly educated social worker. Let's call him Mr. X. Mr. X is highly committed to his clientele. Unfortunately, he is not providing as much care to patients as he had prior to the Great Recession. In fact, Mr. X's clients have dropped by 50%. In any event, we had an interesting conversation about denial (I am indebted to Mr. X, in fact, for inspiring these installments).

Mr. X asked me the following question: "How many people [with whom you interact and are part of the indentured educated class] are in denial about the total amount of debt they owe?"

This question is not just a good one, but a superb one. In fact, it's kept me up for over a week and - as I said above - inspired me to write these pieces. The question deserved such consideration that I turned to writing a full essay about it by pen. (I can't remember the last time I penned an essay. Sure, I've taken lengthy notes in archives, for long research papers, etc., etc., but I have no memory of when I penned an essay of this length). And, so, I sifted through my thoughts and memories of all the confessions I've read from student loan debtors. Of course, I recall the ones who struck me so deeply that my only response was to cry. Indeed, so many were and are raw, that is, they tell me the plain and painful facts about their circumstances, how those closest to them are suffering (I know a few divorces on the way, and the causes of those fractured marriages are as a result of student loan debt-related issues), all of it because they are part of the indentured educated class.

How did I respond to Mr. X's excellent question? Just how many indentured educated citizens are in denial?

My answer(s) coming up next . . .