For millions of students, getting into college is only half the battle. Staying enrolled often depends on whether they can afford the unexpected costs that financial aid doesn’t cover. A medical emergency, housing expense, or temporary loss of income can quickly put a degree at risk, even for students with generous aid packages. That’s why emergency aid and other safety-net supports are so crucial. They can mean the difference between stopping out and earning a degree.

One emergency can throw everything off for students who don’t have a financial cushion. Even a single bad day — a medical emergency, a denied application, a missed paycheck — is enough to knock someone off balance for months.

William Mariscal knows that firsthand. A first-generation Mexican American student from Houston, William attends Johns Hopkins University with need-based financial aid, scholarships, and work-study that cover his full cost of attendance. But after a scooter accident left him with thousands of dollars in medical bills, he saw how quickly an unforeseen expense can unravel even the most carefully planned budget. His experience underscores that college affordability isn’t just about paying tuition. It’s about ensuring students have the financial stability and emergency support they need to persist when life takes an unexpected turn.

Here, William talks about his path to Johns Hopkins, the financial challenges he’s faced, why he’s worried about paying for grad school, and what he believes first-generation students need to succeed.

On getting to college and the mentors who helped him along the way

I’m originally from Houston, Texas, and I’m a first-generation Mexican American raised by two immigrant parents. I came to Hopkins intending to become a doctor and began studying public health as a pre-med student. As I explored my interests more deeply, I found myself drawn to public service. Even though I shifted away from medicine, studying public health has shaped the direction I’m now pursuing, one grounded in the connection between health and the law.

Alumni have been instrumental in helping me navigate college. There were so many things I couldn’t talk through with my parents because they didn’t have the opportunity to attend college themselves. Alumni introduced me to career paths, internships, and opportunities I didn’t even know existed. Shelby Boxenbaum ’06, in particular, has been an incredible mentor as I’ve explored public service. That’s always my advice to other first-generation students: don’t be afraid to connect with alumni. They can genuinely change your trajectory.

Why he chose Johns Hopkins

I knew early on that I wanted to study law and policy, but I didn’t want to attend school in Washington, D.C. Hopkins has one of the strongest public health programs in the country, and its proximity to D.C. gave me access to policy opportunities without feeling confined to one environment. The deciding factor was attending the university’s fly-in program. Once I visited campus, I knew I had found a place where I belonged.

What inspired his interest in public health

In high school, I served as a Student Hero Volunteer at the Houston Food Bank, organizing volunteer efforts to address food insecurity. That experience opened my eyes to food deserts and the ways transportation, healthcare access, and other systemic barriers shape people’s lives. It made me realize that public health influences nearly every aspect of our communities, especially for those who have historically been underserved.

On paying for college

Thanks to support from the Bloomberg Foundation, Johns Hopkins covers my full cost of attendance, including housing and food now that I live off campus, along with a $1,000 annual scholarship from the Kinder Foundation in my school district. I work through federal work-study, which helps me cover everyday expenses like groceries and the occasional meal out, support I never take for granted.

On the financial hurdles he’s faced

Last year felt like one setback after another.

In September 2025, I fell off my scooter and needed wrist surgery. Between the surgery, a month in a cast, and physical therapy, I ended up with ~$3,000 in medical bills after insurance. I initially thought I could handle the bills on my own, and in anticipation of the cost, I applied for SNAP in late September in the hopes I’d have one less thing to worry about while I dealt with everything else. My application was denied after the system failed to process my supporting documents — twice — and the appeal stalled until December because of the government shutdown.

By November, it was clear I couldn’t keep up. Between the remaining medical bills and December rent, I wouldn’t be able to cover both, and with the government shutdown dragging on, I knew SNAP wasn’t coming through anytime soon. I reached out to Hopkins’ financial aid office, and that’s when I learned about their medical expenses grant, which ended up covering my medical bills. I was fortunate that that support existed, but it’s not a safety net every student knows to ask for or has access to.

Those experiences showed me just how precarious finances can be. One emergency can throw everything off for students who don’t have a financial cushion. Even a single bad day — a medical emergency, a denied application, a missed paycheck — is enough to knock someone off balance for months. Even now, with rising energy costs, I’ve had to get creative with my budget and cut back where I can. There’s a constant undercurrent of hoping nothing unexpected comes up, because of how quickly one disruption can create lasting financial strain.

On the sacrifices he’s made

The biggest sacrifice has been time with my family. Since spring and fall breaks are only a week, too short to justify the trip, and I use summer for internships, December is really the only stretch, a full month, when I make it home. A round-trip flight to Houston runs $400 – $500, and that money tends to go toward rent and expenses instead. What’s hardest is missing my younger brother growing up. It’s the everyday moments with my family that I’ve had to give up.

On navigating college as a first-generation student

When I first arrived at Hopkins, I didn’t struggle with imposter syndrome, even though people often assumed I would. I knew I belonged. My real challenges came later when I started navigating internships and career opportunities. I didn’t know where to find opportunities, how to present myself, or even what career paths were available. Alumni and upperclassmen helped bridge those gaps. They showed me where to look, how to apply, and what was possible.

His advice for other first-generation students

Explore everything you can. Don’t focus solely on your GPA. Volunteer, study abroad, join research projects, and apply for internships early. During your first year or two, the goal isn’t to land the biggest internship. It’s to build skills, gain experience, and develop the confidence that will prepare you for future opportunities.

What’s next

I’ll graduate in spring 2027. This summer, I’ve been completing my paralegal certification, and I hope to work as a paralegal after graduating, with plans to further my education within the first few years after that.

Why he’s worried about graduate school affordability

The Trump administration’s move to cap professional graduate loans at $50,000 has made me rethink my options. I’m currently debt-free coming out of Hopkins, but that cap limits what degrees I can realistically pursue going forward. It’s forced me to think about return on investment and what my debt would look like five to 10 years down the line, not just whether a degree is worth it, but whether I could actually afford to finish it. That thinking was the determining factor in choosing to get work experience before going back for a graduate degree, rather than continuing straight through after my bachelor’s.

Series: Getting To & Through College