It’s been over a month since the Oct. 20 deadline for Vanderbilt to provide feedback on the “Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education,” yet there has been little to no movement in reaching a decision. Unlike many at this university, I cannot experience this silence passively. As a first-generation, low-income student, I am the exact person who this compact is designed to pressure. Neutrality, at this moment, is not neutral at all — it keeps students like me waiting to see whether Vanderbilt will protect the education we were promised. 

Since Vanderbilt was offered the compact, students and faculty have spoken out against the administration’s lack of transparency — most recently at a rally of more than 150 people outside Kirkland Hall. The feelings from the faculty and students who led the protest reflect the betrayal and fears this compact has created. Those fears affect students like me even harder. This issue is deeply personal because baked into this compact is the one thing I rely on most to stay at this university: federal funding. 

The financial aid trap

One of the biggest incentives (or bribes) for universities to sign the compact is the promise of priority access to federal financial aid grants. These funds support Pell grants, work-study jobs and other programs that students like me rely on for tuition, housing, food and academic necessities. 

As an FGLI student, money is not abstract but is a constant, heavy, everyday calculation. It’s the difference between getting my degree or dropping out. It’s deciding between buying Suzie’s coffee or paying my credit card bill. It’s choosing between purchasing a textbook or sending money home to help cover rent. Money controls my life. I would do almost anything to loosen the suffocating grip it has on every decision I make, decisions that a junior in college shouldn’t have to make. On top of the academic pressure, FGLI students carry the additional stress of not knowing if we can afford the semester and our extracurricular activities. 

So, when the compact was first announced on Oct. 1, I faced a moral dilemma: Would I support Vanderbilt signing a document that threatens its own values simply because I rely on the money attached to it? 

But here’s the truth that’s guiding every word of this article: I refuse to let my financial vulnerability be weaponized by the Trump administration. No amount of aid is worth Vanderbilt selling its integrity for political compliance. 

The compact is not negotiable

Under the current presidential administration, I understand why Vanderbilt may feel pressure to take its time responding to the compact. The federal government holds enormous power over funding, and it might seem strategic to avoid antagonizing Trump’s team. But fundamentally, this compact targets the core values that define us as an institution. 

We shouldn’t even be negotiating. Entering “talks” implies its terms are up for debate when the intentions behind this compact are clear: to restrict diversity, equity and inclusion programs, reshape admissions around ideology and exert political control over free expression and academic oversight. 

It feels as though Vanderbilt is using its “neutrality” stance as a shield to avoid confronting a serious threat head-on. The decision should be simple, though. If a policy undermines the very belief systems this university claims to uphold, then rejecting it should not be controversial. Again, even from the perspective of a student who relies on federal funding, it is still immoral to sign or succumb to political pressure from this administration. 

Neutrality doesn’t protect us

On the day of the compact’s deadline, Chancellor Daniel Diermeier sent an email insisting that Vanderbilt had not been asked to accept or reject the compact — only to “provide feedback” as part of an “ongoing dialogue.” He framed this response as consistent with Vanderbilt’s policy of institutional neutrality, arguing that neutrality “encourages” the university to comment when political matters directly affect teaching and research. 

But this is exactly my point: if the compact directly affects our teaching, our research, our admissions, our faculty governance and our student body, then why is Vanderbilt still hiding behind neutrality instead of taking a stance? How can Vanderbilt acknowledge the compact’s implicit harm in one statement and in the next, refuse to say whether we will reject it? 

Vanderbilt’s leadership loves to hide behind this “institutional neutrality,” but neutrality feels like a luxury that students like me never had. When institutions stay silent, it reads as a cop-out because our lives don’t allow us to avoid the hard decisions.  

Neutrality did not help me when I filled out my FAFSA alone at 17.
Neutrality did not help when I worked multiple jobs to stay afloat.
Neutrality will not help if this compact reshapes admissions, limits who gets hired and censors what can be taught. 

When neutrality favors the powerful and leaves the vulnerable exposed, it is not neutrality. It is complicity. 

FGLI students pay the highest price

Who is harmed when standardized testing becomes mandatory again? Students without tutors, prep programs or college-savvy parents. 

Who is harmed when international enrollment is capped? FGLI students, whose peers and communities become less diverse. 

Who is harmed when departments can be abolished for going against the Trump administration’s beliefs? Students studying race, gender, politics and history to understand the world around them and their place in it. 

And who is harmed when academic freedom disappears?
All of us. Especially those who came here believing Vanderbilt valued truth, integrity and independence. 

Vanderbilt, this is your moment

This university loves to tell us we “Dare to Grow.” But growth requires courage — the courage to say no when values are threatened, even when money is on the line. 

Do not use students like me as your excuse. Do not use our financial need as a bargaining chip. Do not hide behind neutrality while considering a compact that contradicts everything you claim to stand for. 

I am asking Vanderbilt to do what FGLI students have had to do our entire lives: make the hard decisions, not because you want to, but because you have to.  

Reject the compact. Protect your students. And prove that neutrality is not an escape plan from responsibility.