Hispanic-Serving Institutions Are Critical To Increasing College Enrollment

Prior to the global pandemic, Latino students were the fastest growing demographic enrolling into college. And Hispanic-Serving Institutions (HSIs) -- public and private two- and four-year nonprofit colleges at which Hispanic students make up at least 25% of the student body — had experienced steady growth for nearly two decades.

The arrival of COVID-19 forced colleges across the country to shut down their campuses and go online in spring 2020. Since then, there has been a sharp drop in Latino student enrollment. As a result, HSIs, which enroll over two-thirds of all Latino college students in the country, suffered disproportionately. For the first time since Congress created the designation in the 1992 Higher Education Act, the number of HSIs has shrunk.

As a first-generation, low-income student who attends an HSI, I am deeply concerned about these downward trends. I worry about the students who will be deprived of not only the types of opportunities I have benefited greatly from but also of the incredible sense of community and belongingness I have experienced at Rutgers University - Newark.

Why are HSIs important to Latino students?

While growing up, I perceived college as a bridge to a better life. My immigrant family and community stressed it in every imaginable way. I was often told that the end goal was that name-bearing paper that was tantamount to success and an essential component to realizing the American Dream. But my first experience on a college campus in the fall of my sophomore year of high school revealed a reality that not only filled me with dread but also made me realize that navigating the transition to college was going to be more difficult than I could have imagined.

A recent graduate from my high school had arranged a tour of the university she attended. The trip to the campus started off well. The group I went with were a boisterous bunch, and, until we neared the university’s metro station stop, all we saw around us were people who looked like us. But that changed as we exited the station and approached the university, and the group’s mood shifted. Admiring the tall decorated exterior of academic buildings, peeking at the boards full of upcoming shows, seminars, and activities, and listening into the conversations of students boasting about vacations, an awkward silence enveloped us — and, for the first time in my life, I felt like I didn’t belong. The feeling became even more overwhelming as I walked through the college gates and took the tour. My experience on that trip made me realize how important it would be for me to choose a college at which I felt supported, seen, and above all, part of the community.

When the time came for me to pick a college, it was daunting. After much deliberation with my family, I chose Rutgers-Newark, a satellite campus of my state’s flagship university. Besides being a minority-serving institution, Rutgers-Newark was affordable and close to home, and I appreciated its focus on ensuring college completion for non-traditional students like myself.

How do HSIs support Latino students like me?

Integral to my student experience has been feeling seen and being part of a community that mirrors my own. At a campus where 33% of undergraduates are first-generation students and 59% are eligible for Pell Grants, Rutgers-Newark has a well-deserved reputation for serving the needs of non-traditional, low-income, and underrepresented students of color. While many public universities are becoming increasing selective and recruiting out-of-state students in an effort to increase revenue and perform better in college rankings, Rutgers-Newark has committed itself to be an anchor institution that serves the needs of local communities, one of which was my own, in an effort to drive talent-building, economic prosperity, and social mobility.

The federal government supports HSIs, like Rutgers-Newark, through competitive grants that help these institutions “expand educational opportunities for, and improve the attainment of, Hispanic students,” according to the U.S. Department of Education. “These grants also enable HSIs to expand and enhance their academic offerings, program quality, and institutional stability.” HSIs are also eligible for funding to “increase the number of Hispanic and other low-income students attaining degrees in the fields of science, technology, engineering, or mathematics” and to prepare their students for graduate studies and offer “post baccalaureate programs.”

Being an HSI helped Rutgers-Newark offer a culture, programs, and support services that kept so many of my peers and me in college, especially during the pandemic: from a Pass/No Credit policy during times of emergency and the creation of a supplemental aid student fund to a city-wide public safety collaborative and a revamped financial aid scaling measure that further supports low-income students. Most recently, a program at Rutgers called Latinas Excelling at Doctoral Degrees (L.E.A.D.D.) does its part in equipping and empowering undergraduate Latina students interested in pathways to the professoriate. Many other HSIs across the country have created programs that successfully serve their students. These programs have taken the form of learning centers with BIPOC tutors and advisors and permanent, physical intercultural resource centers. But I’ve found that the most crucial contribution that HSIs make is the sense of community and belongingness these colleges foster.

I’ve been fortunate to attend such a supportive university at a time when so many students were forced to abandon their studies as a result of the pandemic. Latino students, most of whom come from low-income families, were hit particularly hard, facing challenges that forced many off the trajectory of continuing their higher education. In the face of lost income, many Latino students took on jobs to support themselves and their families, working long hours that forced them to leave higher education for long periods of time, perhaps even forever.

For students with dependents, the stress and responsibility of financially supporting their families meant that someone had to stay behind and help with caring for children, older family members, and those who fell sick. Economic, food, and housing insecurity, coupled with resource scarcities, created strains that made higher education unaffordable and factor as a necessary sacrifice when prioritizing basic necessities. The inability of mixed-status families to access wraparound services such as welfare program or emergency relief benefits, coupled with work-related financial losses that impacted millions more people, made it incredibly difficult to make ends meet. A sudden shift to remote learning also left many Latino students at a disadvantage due to the loss of critical educational assistance programs that then made taking a pause of undetermined length the next best option.

In just one year an estimated five years of growth in terms of Latino enrollment was lost, according to Deborah Santiago, the co-founder and chief executive officer of Excellencia in Education. I grieve for those students and families, and know that it is going to take a substantial amount of work to reverse that trend. HSIs could use even more generous and consistent federal support as they help lead those efforts and continue playing a crucial role in fostering Latino student success.

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