As a first-generation college graduate who now leads a Catholic university in the Bronx, I have seen how higher education transforms lives. I have watched students who never imagined attending college earn degrees that lift their families into the middle class. But the Trump administration’s higher education policies threaten to close that door for thousands of students just like them.
Despite the language of accountability and taxpayer protection, these policies will ultimately harm the nation’s most vulnerable students while penalizing the very institutions that are working to serve them.
The One Big Beautiful Bill Act introduced sweeping restrictions on federal student aid. The law eliminates the Grad PLUS loan program and caps graduate borrowing at $20,500 per year for fields the Department of Education does not classify as professional degrees. Medicine, law and dentistry qualify for a higher cap of $50,000 annually. Nursing, social work, education and public health do not. For students pursuing these degrees—fields that are the backbone of underserved communities—advanced education will be placed even further out of reach. Many will be forced to turn to risky private loans or abandon their educational goals altogether.
Institutions like ours that prepare nurses, physician assistants, social workers and other public-service professionals—often Catholic or community-based colleges—will be hit especially hard. In the Bronx, where health care workforce shortages are already dire, programs like ours train students for high-demand roles. But under these new rules, the very students who are most likely to serve low-income communities may no longer be able to afford the education those careers require.
The law also introduced a new “earnings premium” metric (also called the “Do No Harm” standard). Under this framework, undergraduate programs must prove that their graduates earn more than the average high school graduate in their state, and graduate programs must exceed the median earnings of bachelor’s degree holders. If a program fails this metric in two out of three consecutive years, it loses access to federal student loans and grants.
This approach may appear data-driven, but it threatens to penalize institutions doing the hard work of educating students from historically excluded communities—and, of course, the students themselves. Programs that serve low-income students pursuing public-service careers in fields like education and social work may struggle to meet earnings benchmarks not because their education is lacking, but because the labor market undervalues these essential professions.
The Trump administration has also halted discretionary funding for several minority-serving institution programs, including the cancellation of multi-year grants that were helping Hispanic-serving colleges expand culturally responsive academic programs. Although Congress restored the funding in its 2026 budget, the Department of Education has yet to release the funds, leaving their future in limbo.
The administration frames these cuts as a constitutional matter, rooted in its reading of the Supreme Court’s 2023 affirmative action ruling and as part of a broader campaign to dismantle diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives. For Catholic institutions, this poses a particular challenge. In our tradition, diversity, equity and inclusion are moral imperatives rooted in the dignity of every person. Helping underrepresented students to access and complete higher education is what our faith demands of us.
Then there are the federal TRiO programs—eight initiatives, dating to the Higher Education Act of 1965, that provide tutoring, counseling, mentoring and financial support to low-income, first-generation and disabled students from middle school through college. At the University of Mount Saint Vincent and dozens of other Catholic colleges and universities across the country, TRiO programs help students navigate college successfully, often against long odds.
In its 2026 budget, the Trump administration sought to eliminate $1.2 billion for these programs, claiming that college access is no longer the significant obstacle it once was for students of limited means. The data tells a different story. Only 24 percent of first-generation students earn a college degree, compared with 59 percent of their peers whose parents attended college. Thankfully, Congress just rejected that proposal, but the administration has moved to cancel over 120 TRiO grants, affecting 43,600 students, and the office overseeing the program is understaffed, leaving the future of TRiO funding in doubt.
What does this mean for Catholic leaders, especially for us in higher education?
Our faith’s social teaching calls us to a preferential option for the poor. That means centering the needs of the most vulnerable in every policy we make. It means recognizing education as a pathway to dignity, opportunity and full participation in society.
At the University of Mount Saint Vincent, where nearly half of our students are the first in their families to attend college, we live out that principle every day. Two years ago, we launched our Seton College program—named for the first American-born Catholic saint, Elizabeth Ann Seton—offering historically underserved students a debt-free associate degree and extensive support services. Through our new Vincentian Promise for Pell-eligible students who reside in New York State, we provide an institutional scholarship to cover the balance of tuition and mandatory fees after federal and state aid, guaranteeing them a debt-free degree. And our Mott Street Scholarship offers year-round housing, comprehensive financial support, and dedicated mentorship for students who have experienced homelessness or foster care.
Catholic institutions are giving generously, but the scale of educational inequality in this country is not a problem any church, diocese or religious order can solve alone.
The stakes could not be higher. A college degree remains one of the most reliable predictors of lifetime economic stability. On average, individuals with a bachelor’s degree earn roughly $1.2 million more over their careers than those with only a high school diploma. In an era when student debt has become a defining burden of American life, that commitment is both a moral statement and a practical one, enabling graduates to pursue careers in teaching and social work without a monthly loan payment undermining the modest salaries those fields often provide.
But economic returns tell only part of the story. With Americans questioning whether college is worth the cost, we need policies that recognize both the financial and social value of education—not metrics that penalize students who prioritize service over salary. Policies that restrict access will only deepen public doubt and widen the opportunity gap. We should be making it easier for students from marginalized backgrounds to reap the personal and societal benefits of higher education.
Too many of the Trump administration’s higher education reforms fail that moral test. They make it harder for students without wealth or family networks to access higher education. And they punish the institutions—often small and faith-based—that walk with those students toward a better future.
The preferential option for the poor demands concrete choices in our budgets, policies and priorities. Catholic institutions cannot stand by while government policies systematically dismantle pathways to opportunity for the students we are called to serve.
I urge Catholic leaders, educators and citizens of conscience to contact their representatives and demand policies that expand educational opportunity rather than restrict it. We must advocate for the restoration of full TRiO funding, the release of minority-serving institution grants, the reclassification of nursing and other public-service fields as professional programs for federal loan purposes, and a fundamental rethinking of metrics that value salary over service.
