Operation: Overage Check
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When it became clear that my daughter Ellia would be going to college, I knew two things for sure:
She had earned it.
I had no idea how I was going to pay for it.
Let’s be real—Ellia didn’t just coast her way in. She worked her butt off and graduated with an outstanding GPA. The girl earned every ounce of her hefty merit package. But even with that, the remaining cost had me sick to my stomach during Admitted Students Day. While other parents were snapping selfies with Chauncey the school mascot, I was trying not to hyperventilate over the sticker price.
I ended up enrolling in a paid online course called The Scholarship System (Yes, I paid for a course—I’m that Mom. Laugh all you want, it worked.) The course promised to teach me how to help my daughters secure scholarships and maximize aid. Some might say I drank the Kool-Aid, but honestly, I needed to believe in something — and that course gave me language, tools, and a serious boost of confidence.
It also gave me my new favorite phrase: “overage check.”
That’s when you’ve secured so much aid and scholarship money that the school writes YOU a check. I didn’t even know that was possible. But once I learned that it was, it became the goal. Not just for Ellia — but for her younger sister too.
And guess what?
We did it.
First semester: 101% funded.
Remaining semesters? Starting at 71% funded. We’re not at zero — we’re starting with momentum.
And to give you some additional wow factor to understand how much this is, we are talking more than my car per semester.
So how?
Beyond scholarships, the course taught me that financial aid is negotiable. Not guaranteed. Not magical. But negotiable.
So I breathed in, straightened up, and marched right into the financial aid office. I told them our story—truthfully and simply. The officer pulled up Ellia’s record and asked if she’d stayed consistent with grades. (She had.) Then she told me that while all awards had been given, our case would be brought before the “shareholders.” I thanked her and figured if my surprise sit-down saved us even $50, it was worth the awkwardness.
Less than a week later, we got the news: Thousands more in aid. Thousands. That visit alone brought her per-semester cost down low enough that it finally felt doable. The course told me to speak up, and I’m so glad I did.
Another lesson learned from the course sounds obvious, but people don’t do it:
Apply. For. Scholarships.
Don’t scroll past. Don’t assume someone else already won.
Most people don’t even complete the applications.
They get overwhelmed. They assume they don’t stand a chance.
Do it anyway. Ellia did — and it paid off. Literally.
And don’t overlook the small, local, heartfelt scholarships. The ones given in honor of someone who’s passed? Those mean something. Ellia received two of them, and we are honored. We’ve even had one in our own family in the past. These scholarships are out there, and the people behind them want to give them to someone deserving.
I am still broke, make no mistake. Being broke helped in the financial aid department, so I guess that’s a silver lining. But more than anything, we are blessed. Grateful. Humbled. And fully aware that behind every award, every discount, every check, there are people and powers beyond us that helped make this dream possible.
So yes, my daughter’s going to college.
Yes, I am paying for it (somehow).
And yes, she will continue to apply for every scholarship under the sun. Because it works (when you work for it.)
Know of any scholarships? Send them our way!