When I transferred from St. Mary’s College of Maryland to The George Washington University, I knew I was taking a risk. Leaving behind a smaller campus community and navigating an entirely new academic and financial system was daunting, but it felt necessary. I wanted greater opportunities, more resources, and a clearer path toward my future in business. What I didn’t expect, however, was just how many barriers I’d face in trying to finish what I started.

Transferring schools taught me how to start over, but it also showed me how much harder the system makes it for students who don’t follow a traditional path

Transferring schools didn’t just mean new professors, unfamiliar dorms, and navigating through a new campus, it meant reapplying for financial aid, losing credits that didn’t transfer, and fighting to stay on track to graduate on time. Now, as I enter my senior year and begin thinking seriously about graduate school, I’m watching that dream get pushed further out of reach — not because I’m not working hard enough, but because the supports students like me need to stay in school are at risk under President Trump’s proposed budget for 2026.

The Great American Heist is happening in front of us: With Trump’s proposed cuts to federal student aid, students like me — transfer students, students of color, and students from low-income backgrounds — aren’t just being asked to do more with less; we’re being asked to sacrifice our futures in the name of “fiscal responsibility.” For example, new borrowing rules just passed into law will cap the amount of federal loans for graduate school at $20,500 a year — which sounds like a lot, until you realize that the average master’s program costs more than $62,000 a year. This burdens students from low-income backgrounds who would have to somehow make up the difference. And the loan repayment plans offered in the budget would mean larger monthly payments.

When I transferred to GWU, I had to start over not only socially and academically, but financially. The aid I received at St. Mary’s didn’t follow me: I had to re-submit my FAFSA, learn an entirely new system of deadlines and policies, and accept that some of the institutional aid I once relied on was now gone. Many financial aid packages won’t transfer because institutional scholarships and grants are often school-specific. Even federal aid, like Pell Grants, isn’t automatic. You must manually add your new school to your FAFSA and ensure your paperwork is complete, or risk losing eligibility.

And it might get worse: The Trump budget proposal for next year would lower the maximum Pell Grant by nearly $1,700. These cuts aren’t just line items on a federal budget; they directly threaten students’ ability to complete their college degree.

What’s more, transferring colleges often means losing credits — and comes with the risk losing financial aid. When I transferred to GWU from St. Mary’s, I lost 22 credits that I had earned at St. Mary’s, pushing my class status from junior to sophomore. This is because each institution has their own credit system outside of other colleges. These lost credits result in delayed graduation, which costs me and other transfer students more money, and puts us at risk of exhausting Pell Grant or federal loan eligibility entirely.

Also, the timing of your transfer can cost you. Students transferring mid-year may miss out on financial aid, because those funds can lose out on state-issued aid or institutional grants are distributed on a first-come, first-served basis.

Access to college is only the beginning. What truly matters is whether students have the resources to stay enrolled, complete their degrees, and pursue further education without being financially crushed because of it. So many students are forced to “stop out,” and are buried in debt without a degree to show for it. Without support for transfer students, students of color, and students from low-income backgrounds, we increase the risk of a system where opportunity is promised at the start but not delivered through to the end, where students are admitted but not equipped and prepared to cross the finish line.

Transferring schools taught me how to start over, but it also showed me how much harder the system makes it for students who don’t follow a traditional path. I’ve worked relentlessly to stay enrolled, reapply for aid, look for outside scholarships to cover my costs of living and help replace lost credits, and remain on track to graduate. I’m proud of that resilience. But it shouldn’t have to be this hard. And I’m not alone. According to the National Student Clearinghouse, students transferring with a prior credential (like an associate’s degree) comprised 42% of the two-to-four-year transfer population in 2020, but this share has dropped to 39% in 2024 — a decline of over 16,000 students. That dip suggests that more students are being derailed before they even reach key academic milestones before they continue their education at a four-year college, falling through cracks in a system that should be helping them move forward.

This is why EdTrust’s commitment to equity in higher education funding is so critical, especially as public education funding is under attack. Whether it’s advocating for doubling the Pell Grant, supporting student success grants, or fighting back against cuts to other federal student aid programs, these investments don’t just impact statistics; they impact lives. Mine included. This country cannot afford to scale back support for students right now — but that is exactly what’s happening. Under this administration, higher education is being reconfigured to return to a time when college was reserved for wealthy, white men.

Students like me are doing everything we can: adjusting, re-adjusting, adapting, and showing up, while financial aid systems remain rigid and funding remains uncertain. As conversations about higher education policy continue, transfer students cannot be left behind.

We need federal and institutional support that recognizes our nontraditional pathways, not punish them. We need policies that invest in completion, and not just partial access. And we need urgent action to preserve and expand programs that help students cross the finish line, not just dream about it. Students like me are doing everything right. We just need the country to meet us halfway.

Manuela Mouafo is a senior at GWU and was a summer digital communications intern.

As part of our commitment to elevating diverse perspectives, EdTrust occasionally features guest blogs. The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect EdTrust’s views or positions.