The other night, I was sitting on the couch watching "The Simpsons." The episode was a rerun, and I was sure I'd seen it before, but what struck me the second time around was a scene in which Bart falsifies a  

credit card

  application with a ridiculous name and an even more ridiculous occupation.

Six to eight weeks later he receives his credit card, and begins buying without any fear of consequence. Eventually, all of his newly bought, impossible possessions are repossessed, including the family dog. Granted, this is a cartoon, and Bart falsified the credit card application, but the message still goes beyond ink, voiceovers, and make-believe. I, like Bart, was forced to deal with the real-life implications of credit card debt, and continue to do so to this day.

I remember a day some years back when I was a college sophomore. It was one of the first days of the new semester, which meant there would be a lot of commotion in the Student Commons. There were the usual vendors selling incense and prints of Dali. People were tossing frisbees, passing petitions, and handing out free stuff. I must have missed these booths during the previous semesters because I was completely captivated with all the activity. After all, free stuff is like gold to a college student.

I moved closer to get a better view of the situation. I heard my mother's disapproving voice in my head--"There is no such thing as free stuff"--when the student behind the table handed me a brand new dictionary. Her voice was quickly subdued, however, as I reached out to claim my gift and was handed a form instead. The student instructed me to complete it, and then I would receive my dictionary. Halfway through the form I came to the realization that this was a credit card application. Confident in my own financial instability (I'd never get approved, I thought), I finished the form and moved on toward another booth loaded with large bags of M&Ms.

To my surprise, plastic freedom made its way into my mailbox a few months later. At first I was shocked by the fact that these huge credit card corporations trusted me, a struggling student holding a minimum wage part-time job. It seemed they knew something I didn't, so I accepted the card and decided this would be the perfect time to develop my own credit like so many before me had done.

The Buying Begins
At first, my purchases were conservative. I'd buy a T-shirt or a CD if I didn't have enough cash in my wallet. Soon, however, the deferred payment disease intoxicated my rationale and I began buying things I'd always wanted for myself. I bought a guitar, long-stem roses for my girlfriend, a brand new wardrobe, and countless other items I felt I "absolutely needed."

At this point, cash flow began to wither like those now long-dead roses; I was surviving solely on my little plastic nemesis. I began taking cash advances to eat, and then I'd repay the card. When I exceeded my credit limit, I began selling back my used CDs, and I was even forced to pawn my guitar for a mere $60 just so I could dine on macaroni and cheese. There was barely enough money from my paychecks to cover basic living expenses ... satisfying the minimum monthly payment on the card was impossible.

Now, four years later, the balance has doubled due to late payment and over-credit-limit fees. That free dictionary has cost me over $3,000!

Credit Consequences
One of the credit card companies threatened to take the money from me via the court system. They called and harassed me so frequently that I began leaving the answering machine to do the dirty work for me. Every time they called it was the same: "This is Jack Crack from your credit card company. Your account is extremely delinquent, and we need to speak with you regarding some options we have worked out to get you back on track."

Eventually, I was forced to become involved in a payoff, in which the creditor would subtract the funds directly from my checking account. Before long, I could no longer escape the threat of collectors coming to my door. They had barged in, taken control, and left me without enough money to care for myself.

I'm not a person who takes things too seriously. I always see the positive side of negative situations, but my credit card debt had left me despondent. My parents had paid the tuition for school, so I believed it was my responsibility to take care of everything else in my life. I owed them more than they could possibly imagine, specifically their vision of a boy becoming a truly autonomous man. Instead, I dove deep into their worst fears, proving that I wasn't ready to be independent of them. My mother's voice seemed hopeful when she called, and I attempted to pretend she had nothing to fear. I winced each time she asked if I needed money. I knew her heart would break if I had taken it.

The Downward Debt Spiral
I began to lose interest in many of the activities in which I'd become involved. Friends would call and invite me to join them for dinner, but I had to decline. I'd make up excuses as to why I couldn't oblige, and even more excuses about why I always said no to their offers. My dirty little secret began to tear at my emotional stability. Soon, calls from friends became more infrequent, meeting new people was out of the question, and my mom began exclaiming she didn't know why she even bothered to call me. A simple matter of credit card debt caused me to drive everything I cared about from my life.

After graduation, I was compelled to explain my financial distress to my mother. It had been several years since my problems originated, so I believed the wound to be fairly well healed, but the burst of emotion I felt when I defined my credit card debt was inexplicable. I choked on every word. I gagged on the number. I felt physical pain when I looked her in the eye. There was nothing more terrifying to me than exemplifying a parent's nightmare, yet in that moment I felt flushed of all the negativity I had brought into my life. The time had come to drudge toward a feasible solution.

I'm Not Alone...
Recently I learned that I am not the only college student to suffer from credit card chaos. According to the Debt Counselors of America, seven of 10 undergrads carry credit cards with an average balance totaling over $2,000. In a time where the cost of tuition is sky high, many students look to financial aid programs as a means of accomplishing their education goals. Now, with the temptation of easily accessible credit, graduates are left with tremendous amounts of debt before their lives even truly begin.

Credit is not the criminal, but the companies that send students to peddle credit card debt to their classmates are partly to blame. How can companies allow young, ignorant consumers without sufficient funds to undertake such responsibility? Maybe the solution is to play like tobacco companies, and run public service announcements attempting to educate the population on the dangers of credit cards. Whatever the solution, know this: It is far too easy to acquire a credit card that has the potential to ruin the future financial and emotional stability of many college students in this country. The screening process must be much more stringent, and college campuses should be free of credit card solicitors. Otherwise, many students, like myself, will suffer the consequences of a (seemingly free) $3,000 dictionary.

Editor's note: The opinions expressed here are those of the writer, and not necessarily of The CollegeBound Network.

Sound Off! Post Your Comments