Helping Students Do Good Things in the World

Memories from a Challenging First Week

My dad was a first-generation immigrant to Canada from Latvia after World War II. And he left to go help build post-communist Latvia in 1991, the year that I arrived at Dartmouth. It wasn’t a remunerative job—he ran a land bank. We didn’t have a lot of money to start with, and then all of a sudden we had almost no money. I had been accepted to Princeton, but Princeton took the view that what my dad had earned in the past was still applicable. Dartmouth gave me a financial aid package that reflected the new reality, thankfully. So, I decided to go to Dartmouth.

I arrived for Orientation Week, and that was the first time I ever saw Dartmouth. My mom drove me to Hanover in our old Hyundai and gave me a $50 bill when she dropped me off. I had no bank account. The $50 bill was all the money I had in the world. I lined up to register for Trips, and the person behind the desk said, “That’ll be $83.” I explained that I had only $50, and he said, “OK, I’ll take your $50, and we’ll put the $33 on your account.” I now had zero money, but I was grateful that I could go on Trips.

That evening, a group of us went to EBAs. Everyone ordered food, and because I didn’t have any money, I said I wasn’t hungry. Scott Rupp, who later became one of my best friends in the world, said, “Come on, are you sure you’re not hungry?” I said no, but I could tell he figured out my situation. Somehow—I can’t remember exactly how he did it—Scott helped get a chicken sandwich for me, which was incredibly nice.

While Dartmouth was wonderful about financial aid, not everything went smoothly. They had promised me a work-study job. Since I was from Canada, I couldn’t work just anywhere. I had to work on campus. When I arrived that fall, I was told all the on-campus work-study jobs had been taken.

You can get by at Dartmouth without a lot of spending money, but it’s tough to have literally no money. I got a job at the Hanover Inn as a bellman. My shifts were 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays, which was tough, as I was playing rugby. They’d usually let me get off early if I had to. It was good work. Sometimes I could read my textbooks at the bellman’s stand because the work was episodic. There were hours when it was incredibly busy, and then there were hours when it was quite slow.

I think the job paid four bucks an hour. But the tips sometimes were incredible, especially if you got an alum who understood that you were a financial aid student. There was a real sweetness to it. I’d be carrying their bags, and they would start asking questions about what I was studying and where I was from. They knew I wasn’t doing this job as a hobby. The typical tip was usually a dollar or two. A lot of times, once that conversation took place, the tip ended up being 10 bucks, sometimes even 20 bucks. For a kid in the situation I was in, that was like manna from heaven.

I ended up working at the Hanover Inn for most of my time at Dartmouth, and I tutored for the economics department, but I still couldn’t afford the minimal amount that Dartmouth was asking me to pay each term. I went into the Financial Aid Office and explained my situation. They asked me a couple of questions and upped my financial aid package. They increased my loans. So, I was accruing loans, and I was worried about that, but at least I wasn’t worried about having to leave campus.

There were others who stepped up and helped me in all sorts of ways. I remember how Andrés Tahta, the captain of the rugby team, found the funds that made it possible for me to join a team trip to the Bahamas during my freshman year. Another example—I was in Alpha Delta, and I often couldn’t afford my dues, so I would work. I helped organize parties and I did some renovation work in the house.

Now, 30 years later, giving to financial aid has been an easy decision. I had always said that regardless of how my relationship with Dartmouth evolved over time, I wanted to make sure that I paid it forward for somebody else. I remember the scholarship that I received; it was a Sigurd S. Larmon Scholarship. I remember thinking at the time how somebody who would never know me had established a scholarship that allowed me to attend Dartmouth.

Graduating with a heavy student debt was scary, and that influenced my life choices. I moved into social impact investing later in life; if I hadn’t graduated with so much debt, I might have gotten into it sooner. Instead, I first went into consulting, and then I worked in private equity. To the extent that we hope students graduating from Dartmouth will do good things in the world, alleviating the debt burden for students is a really good way of helping to make that happen.