The first and only time I went to Nebraska was eight years ago almost to the day, when I traveled to Homestead National Historic Park for research. The park is in the town of Beatrice, which is nearly an hour from any interstate highway and not pronounced in any way that might be expected.
The park is a monument to the 1862 law that allowed people to obtain 160 acres of nearly free land held by the federal government. I say "nearly" free, because applicants had to pay a $14 filing fee. And I use the word "people" because you did not have to be a citizen to be one of the 1.6 million homesteaders who ended up with free land. The only major categories of adults residing in North America who could not claim a homestead were Native Americans and married women of any race. (Confederate soldiers were also barred for a time.)
Despite being excluded from other aspects of civic life in America, single women, widows and immigrants eligible for naturalization could take advantage of the Homestead Act. It also applied to Black Americans who met the other eligibility requirements; about 3,500 filed successful homestead claims. Today, researchers estimate that as many as 93 million Americans are descended from those original homesteaders, myself included.
I bring these numbers up because we're about to see another federal government program with similar sweeping potential: Debt relief for people who took out student loans to pay for college. After studying the implications of the Homestead Act for the past decade or so, I'm convinced that wiping out $10,000 or $20,000 in debt for 43 million borrowers could be just as transformative of a program.
Even if they've never been to Beatrice, Nebraska, many Americans have a passing familiarity with the Homestead Act. But I'm not sure many people understand how it was the most successful experiment in wealth creation the world has ever seen. Or how it reverberates even now in who has resources and who does not.
The Homestead Act had major flaws, particularly with how it accelerated the displacement of Indigenous people. (It's a subject scholars have examined in great detail, with great skill.) Yet it also lifted millions of Americans and their descendants out of poverty. All that free land from the government established the building blocks of generational wealth that put many white Americans ahead.
It wasn't easy colonizing all that land — ancestors of mine and most likely many of yours worked hard to build homes and to cultivate the land and live on it for five years, often under difficult conditions in inhospitable climates. But if they successfully proved their homestead claim, guess what? The generation that came after them inherited wealth from land gotten from the government for a $14 filing fee. It made everything a little easier for the next generation, and the one that came after. And so on.
I've chuckled as much as anyone this past week at the "this you?" tweets pointing out the hypocrisy of those who whine about student loan forgiveness even though they took out millions in Paycheck Protection Program loans they don't have to repay.
Let's be honest, though. Everyone in this country gets some sugar from Uncle Sam, in one form or another. Did you take out a PPP loan during the pandemic? Whoo hoo! Free money! You like that mortgage interest tax deduction? Guess what, it comes at the expense of renters. And let's not even get started with, say, who benefits from the carried interest loophole. Or subsidies and tax breaks to oil companies. Or cash payouts to wealthy farms.
If we take it a few generations back to the big federal giveaway that started it all, there's an awful lot of people coasting on all that property wealth unleashed by the Homestead Act.
So here’s my question: If your family got some free federal land for a homestead, why would you begrudge anyone else who didn't have the same multigenerational advantage? Why not apply that same spirit of generosity to student loans?
Full disclosure: My parents both graduated from college but didn't make a lot of money, so I was a federal Pell Grant recipient in the 1990s. I paid off $19,000 of undergraduate student debt (plus 5% interest) in the 10 years after I graduated. (And yes, I worked in college; I've been working since I was 13.) I've never made much money as a journalist, but I was especially poorly paid that first decade. Every month for 10 years, Sallie Mae got about $220 that couldn't be devoted toward a down payment for a home, or for retirement, the advantages of my peers with wealthier parents. Of course it's possible I could been wiser with money over the years. But given the power of compound interest, it was nearly impossible to ever close that gap.
Further disclosure: This new program will probably wipe out $20,000 of my graduate school debt, leaving me with about $10,000 to pay back, beginning in January. If there hadn't been a pandemic, I likely would have paid off the loan already — payments have been in forbearance for everyone since spring of 2020, which is when I graduated. Taking out the loans in my 40s was an adult business decision tied to cash flow. I knew I'd have more income when I was working full time once I finished school, and like many small business owners who take on low-interest, government subsidized debt to finance expansion that they will pay off with future earnings, I did the same.
But you know what? If I hadn't been behind because of those loans I first took out at age 18, I probably wouldn't have needed to access them once again for graduate school.
I’m certainly not turning down the relief. This country has plenty, enough to give out the aforementioned tax breaks and PPP largesse — and yes, student loan relief. There's no need to hoard all that privilege.
The sweeping promise in the preamble to the U.S. Constitution is to promote the general welfare. That's why we pay taxes. The promise of the Homestead Act was access to the potential riches of land ownership to Americans who had never owned anything. The promise of higher education is an educated populace with more earning potential. If we truly believe in those promises, then we should applaud whenever someone else gets their turn at the American Dream.
Love,
Erika
THE NEWS
All the links…
Speaking of windfalls… I learned last week that I got a major environmental arts grant from the Anonymous Was a Woman foundation to complete my film! Click the link to read the announcement.
How to take advantage of even more of Uncle Sam’s money. Tax breaks and incentives and rebates for energy efficient windows and heat pumps and electric cars, gimme all of ‘em.
Forget the Homestead Act. Tips for understanding the Land Back movement.
An interview with Julia Cameron, the artist who pioneered the morning pages beloved by so many creatives.
Please read this beautiful essay by my friend Amie Parnes about recovering — and then losing — her adolescent crush as an adult.