In the summer of my freshman year, I lost my father. I was consumed by immense grief, but also economic anxiety. The same day I buried my father in Bangladesh, my family discussed whether I could even afford to go to Dartmouth anymore. My family’s finances were already stretched thin with sending me to college in the U.S. I felt some relief when I got off the waitlist to become an undergraduate advisor a few days later.
A $2,000 termly stipend and $2,130 in meal credits meant I could work my way through college as a UGA. However, this relief was short-lived. I received a new financial aid letter with my termly aid reduced by $2,130 and a new row titled “UGA Meal Plan Credit” instead. Because I was on a scholarship, half of my earnings as a UGA would go right back to the College every term.
I met with a financial aid officer as soon as I could. The officer told me Dartmouth considered the meal credit in UGA compensation an “outside scholarship.” I begged her to consider my situation. They repeated their policy on UGAs and said they couldn’t do anything. Becoming hopeless again about affording Dartmouth, I broke down on Zoom. The aid officer tried to calm me down and referred me to institutional resources and private loan providers.
I was an 18 year-old who had just lost his father and provider, being told by an institution with an $8 billion endowment that they would withhold over half of my $4,000 pay because I was on aid. Experiences like that tend to radicalize you a bit, especially considering the consequences I have had to face since then. I have borrowed thousands of dollars from friends and family to afford going here. My two older brothers, in their 20s, have had to put their lives on hold until I graduate. I went to my first union meeting that fall and convinced many of my fellow UGAs to unionize later that year.
Unions, particularly student unions, have a controversial reputation, sometimes seen as greedy and entitled. Debates on how much of that reputation is “deserved” bury hundreds of stories like mine. These stories explain why these unions were formed in the first place, though.
Yet, the reality is that Dartmouth holds extraordinary power over its workers. In Hanover, the College is the main employer. For international students, federal regulations often restrict them to campus jobs — in most cases, they literally cannot work elsewhere. This allows Dartmouth to take advantage of vulnerable workers, even though the administration prides itself on financial inclusivity. Likening the College to a schoolyard bully would be a fair comparison, considering how it has targeted low-income UGAs like myself and literally “taken their lunch money.”
That is why we have seen three different unions formed at Dartmouth in the last two years, for undergraduate, graduate and library workers. These three new unions are in addition to SEIU Local 560, the local union, established in 1966. Still, the College can’t seem to reflect on its shortcomings as an employer.
One particularly painful aspect of the recent strike was seeing different groups of workers pitted against each other. I've heard comments suggesting that student workers are somehow taking opportunities away from full-time staff, or that they’re asking for special treatment that they don't deserve.
The reality is that both full-time workers and student workers deserve better wages and benefits. These things can be true simultaneously, and achieving one doesn't have to come at the expense of the other. In 2023, approximately 1% of the College’s budget was wages — both for full-time and part-time workers — in dining, dorm operations and recreational facilities like the Skiway, according to public tax documents available on ProPublica. Dartmouth’s total expenses that year was $1.4 billion, and the cost of wages for these workers was $16 million. Dartmouth spent a similar amount just on its top 10 executives that year. The College can afford a living wage for all its residence hall and dining workers who make it function. In addition, wins for some workers tend to benefit all workers. When the last student worker contract passed in 2023, the campus minimum wage increased from $11.50 to $16.25 for non-union workers shortly after.
I understand the frustration when services are disrupted. When dining halls close early or dorms lack UGA support, it affects everyone. But I ask you to direct that frustration where it belongs — not at your fellow students fighting for fair treatment, but at an administration acting in bad faith.
When you see a picket line, recognize that your fellow students don’t want to inconvenience you — they have exhausted every other option. For seven months, the union has been negotiating with the College, submitting proposals and counter proposals, only to be met with the College's refusal to return to the bargaining table after April 17.
To be honest, I was unsure about sharing my story here. Despite writing this as a former UGA, I know I will be scrutinized as your incoming student body president. So, before writing this, I asked myself: do my peers who elected me really care about this? Or, am I letting my personal biases get the better of me?
The fact of the matter is, there are many more stories like mine, which too often go untold. I chose to tell mine because I believe this community cares about these stories, and will show up when it matters. At the end of the day, these are your classmates, your friends. Our values compel us not to give up on them in moments like these. The day I am convinced this community simply doesn’t care is the day I will cross the picket line myself.
Sabik Jawad is a member of the Class of 2026 and is the president-elect of Dartmouth Student Government. Guest columns represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
