For many Americans, student debt is an abstract number—something discussed in headlines or debated in Congress. For Teryca Brooks-Long, it’s a monthly reality that shapes nearly every decision she makes.
When Student Loans Become A Lifetime Burden
The promise of higher education in the United States often comes with a hefty price tag. According to the Federal Reserve, total student loan debt in the U.S. now exceeds $1.7 trillion, affecting tens of millions of borrowers. The average balance per borrower hovers around $37,000—but some cases climb far beyond that.
Teryca’s situation is one of those outliers.
A graduate of Baylor University in Waco, Texas, she took out loans to finance her studies, expecting that her career would allow her to manage repayments. Instead, she found herself facing a crushing financial spiral. Her original balance reached $176,000. The projected interest? A staggering $250,000.
That’s not a typo.
With interest rates reportedly as high as 11.75%, the debt ballooned quickly. As the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB) notes, high interest rates can dramatically increase long-term repayment costs, particularly for borrowers who struggle to pay down principal early.
Working Four Jobs To Stay Afloat
Today, Teryca lives in San Antonio, Texas, and works four jobs to keep up with payments. She earns roughly $3,500 a month. Out of that, nearly $1,700 goes directly toward her loans.
That leaves little breathing room.
By training, she’s a professional model and actress. But creative work can be unpredictable. So she supplemented her income with positions as a university enrollment advisor and a real estate assistant. At one point, her schedule was packed from morning until late at night.
I once interviewed a young teacher in a similar position who described her loan payments as “another rent payment.” Teryca’s case is even more intense: her loan payment alone consumes almost half her monthly income. It’s hard to build savings—or even exhale—under that kind of pressure.
The Million-Dollar Warning
When personal finance advisor Caleb Hammer reviewed her finances in a 2022 YouTube interview, he didn’t sugarcoat his assessment. Based on her current trajectory, he warned that her total debt could approach $1 million within two years if interest continued compounding at the same pace.
That kind of projection may sound dramatic, but experts often caution borrowers about the power of compound interest. The U.S. Department of Education explains that unpaid interest can capitalize—meaning it’s added to the principal—making future interest charges even higher.
Hammer advised her to pursue higher-paying work, reduce discretionary spending—such as dining out—and sell her car, which carried its own $13,500 loan. But she declined to part with the vehicle.
That decision sparked debate online. Some viewers criticized her priorities. Others empathized, noting how emotionally difficult it can be to give up small comforts when everything else feels uncertain.
A System Under Strain
Teryca’s story resonates because it reflects a broader national tension around higher education costs and high-interest loans. Tuition has risen dramatically over the past few decades. According to the National Center for Education Statistics (NCES), the average published tuition and fees at four-year institutions have more than doubled in inflation-adjusted dollars since the early 1990s.
For borrowers with elevated interest rates, repayment can stretch for decades. The Pew Research Center reports that many Americans in their 40s and 50s are still paying off loans taken out in their 20s.
Not everyone accumulates six-figure balances. But for those who do—especially at rates above 10%—the math becomes unforgiving.
Living With The Weight Of Debt
It’s easy to analyze Teryca’s financial spreadsheet from a distance. It’s harder to imagine living it.
Four jobs. Nearly half her income gone each month. A debt total that seems to grow despite steady payments.
Her situation underscores how compound interest can quietly transform an educational investment into a long-term burden. And it raises uncomfortable questions about the sustainability of America’s student lending system.
For now, she keeps working.
And like millions of other borrowers, she wakes up each day balancing ambition with obligation—hoping that persistence will eventually outpace the numbers.
