The Chronicle of Higher Education

 

By: Eric Hoover

 

October 17, 2003

 

Pushing the Envelope

Financial-assistance companies mail enticing offers, but educators question whether they deliver

The letter charmed Chris Azulay's mother, in Aurora, Colo. "Would you like to have the peace of mind," it read, "knowing your student CHRIS will never have to drop out of college due to lack of money?"

A letter from the same company, suggesting it could "secure 100 percent" of the costs of college, hooked Angel Gillispie's parents, in Lynchburg, Va.

A similar mailing lured Amanda Miller just as she was mulling her college options, in Lima, Ohio.

College Funding Center, a college-assistance company based in Plano, Tex., sent the letters from January 1999 to July 2002, inviting the high-school students and their parents to attend a free seminar on financial aid and to participate in a "personal interview."

At the presentations, held near each family's home, representatives of the company pledged to obtain a combination of grants, scholarships, and loans to cover all college expenses. They also promised a full refund if the company did not deliver.

Each family signed a sales contract, agreeing to pay $975. But all three say they ended up disappointed. They say their students received no scholarships or grants through the company, nor did their parents receive the promised refunds.

The sworn testimonies of those families and six other former clients of the College Funding Center are part of a pending lawsuit that the Federal Trade Commission filed against the company in May. The commission alleges that the company repeatedly violated a federal law prohibiting unfair or deceptive business practices. A federal judge has issued a temporary injunction barring the company from making "100 percent" guarantees.

Despite increased scrutiny from law-enforcement agencies, the financial-assistance industry continues to boom. As tuitions soar and more students seek financial aid, businesses are flooding mailboxes with offers to reduce families' out-of-pocket expenses for college.

Some of the companies deliver useful services, and some do not. But many educators, particularly high-school counselors, contend that even the industry's more-reputable companies charge families for information and services that are already available free. Some companies command fees of up to $1,500 to search for scholarships, to help match students with colleges, and to fill out the Free Application for Federal Student Aid form, which the government uses to determine aid. In response to those concerns, the National Association for College Admission Counseling recently pledged to create a tracking system to monitor the companies, some of which set up booths at the organization's conventions.

For families, anxiety over the college-admissions process can make offers from the companies seem attractive.

"They put stars in your eyes," says Teresita Diaz de Martinez, who signed a contract with the College Funding Center at a sales presentation two years ago, near her home in San Antonio. "They focus on [how] everything is possible, and that you can go and study anywhere you want because they have what you need in order to help you."

Ms. Diaz de Martinez says the $925 she and her husband agreed to pay the company at first seemed like a modest investment compared with the money they were planning to spend on their daughter Maria's education. But the family received only a general list of available aid awards, not the personalized list of scholarships and grants that they say the company promised them. And Maria failed to win any aid.

The family also says the company erred when it filed Maria's federal financial-aid form in the spring of 2002, putting the wrong Social Security number on the papers. Once, the company sent the family a mailing intended for another client with the same last name. Delays in the filing of her form forced Maria to take out loans to pay for her first semester at Texas A&M University at Corpus Christi. "I always had my great expectations about this company, that they had the right contacts," her mother says. "It was a big, big, big disappointment."

She asked the company for her money back. But in an October 2002 letter, the College Funding Center said the family's request for a refund was not "justified" because the family had provided the company with the wrong Social Security number. Ms. Diaz de Martinez disputes that claim.

The president of the company, Alan Baron, says, "Everyone who deserved a refund received one."

He adds: "We've had substantially the same guarantee since 1985 -- we don't fail to deliver very often, and when we do fail, we issue a refund."

Ms. Diaz de Martinez did receive one more letter from the company last fall: a reminder that it was time to pay the renewal fee.

A GOVERNMENT CRACKDOWN

The lawsuit against the College Funding Center is part of the trade commission's continuing Project Scholarscam, a campaign of law enforcement and consumer education. Under the Scholarship Fraud Prevention Act, passed in 2000, the FTC must report to Congress each year on scholarship fraud, with summaries of all law-enforcement efforts to curb it. The U.S. Departments of Education and Justice assist with the program.

The commission estimates that since 1996, the companies it has sued defrauded 275,000 clients, who paid a total of $47.2-million for the services.

Gregory Ashe, a senior staff lawyer at the FTC who heads the project, says the nature of the college-aid companies has changed. A decade ago complaints from consumers typically involved scholarship-search services that solicited customers through telemarketing. Many of those companies have folded, however, following years of consumer warnings and the proliferation of free scholarship searches, like FastWeb, on the Internet.

Mr. Ashe says that complaints to his office now tend to involve companies that sell more-generalized college-assistance services at sales presentations, usually held in hotels. Financial-aid experts who track the industry estimate that at least a dozen such companies send bulk mailings to students inviting them to the events, which typically end with high-pressure sales pitches.

The invitations -- many resembling official documents or personal letters -- often suggest that the students have been selected or chosen to receive them. Most of the mailings, however, are hardly individualized. The companies buy name-and-address lists from commercial list brokers -- which sell information about students for as little as 13 cents per name -- or, in some instances, from high schools.

While many college counselors have charged that the companies get students' names from the College Board, that organization insists that it sells information about its PSAT and SAT takers only to accredited colleges and to government scholarship programs. "There are innumerable sources for these lists, and people cultivate them heavily," says Bradley J. Quin, executive director for admissions and enrollment services at the College Board.

Last year two companies that collected personal data from millions of students -- the National Research Center for College and University Admissions and the American Student List -- reached a settlement with the FTC on charges that they had violated federal law by selling the information to marketing services without informing the students.

Mr. Ashe says that the commission's recent efforts have slowed the industry down. Since 1996, the FTC has returned $560,000 in refunds to families. The agency says its investigations have resulted in federal court orders prohibiting 11 companies from making any more misrepresentations, and permanently barring some defendants from marketing scholarship services at all.

In August, the FTC announced a settlement with National Student Financial Aid, a Nevada company that had sold its services to at least 40,000 families, taking in more than $10-million over a five-year period. The agency alleged that the company had misrepresented its ability to find students more financial aid than they could get on their own, though the company did not admit liability in a consent decree.

In some cases, the companies' guarantees involve tricky language. If a guarantee does not specify the proportion of loans and grants promised, a company could then contend that it had delivered for a client by securing a loan that covered 100 percent of the cost of college.

"One of the problems we've seen is that salespeople will talk a big game, but the contract was a lot more limiting as to what the company did," Mr. Ashe says. "There's a lot of regurgitating information back ... in a slick, glossy report. The problem is, consumers don't see what other customers' reports look like. We've looked at scores of portfolio books where the strategies and college recommendations were all identical."

Reining in the industry is difficult. Some companies that have drawn federal scrutiny have changed their names and moved their businesses to other states. Some have simply tweaked their pitches. "One thing the industry seems to have done in response is that they have started being very careful as to what they say, to avoid anything that is a clear-cut misrepresentation," says Mark Kantrowitz, publisher of finaid.org, a free Web site that contains comprehensive information about financial aid.

In other words, there are ways to take advantage of customers without breaking the law. "The fact that someone's charging for something which is otherwise free is not by itself deceptive -- it's not a scam," says Mr. Ashe, the FTC lawyer.

'I COULD HAVE USED THAT MONEY'

On the Web site of College Partnership, students are greeted with a paraphrase of Thoreau's advice: "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams: Live the life you have imagined." Siniva Taumoepeau contends that the value of its services is what's imaginary.

A freshman at Mount Saint Mary's College, in California, Ms. Taumoepeau was sold on the pitch, at first. At a sales presentation she attended with her family last year, company representatives made her "feel like I was connected to them, like they knew what I was about to go through" in applying to college, she says. Equally impressed, her parents signed a contract. Ms. Taumoepeau says she believed that the service would improve her chances of getting into college. Soon, though, she says she realized that she could have obtained the same information free in the office of her high school's career adviser. Her parents tried to get out of the contract, but the three-day cancellation period had passed. "They just gypped my parents for $1,000," Ms. Taumoepeau says. "I could have used that money now. I would have put that toward books."

The company, based in Colorado, bills itself as a college and career-preparation provider. It solicits clients with mass mailings that announce, "It is extremely important that you begin the [financial aid] process now by attending" one of College Partnership's presentations. The company says it has helped more than 30,000 students obtain more than $170-million in financial assistance over the past decade.

The scope of the College Partnership's business is revealed by its filings with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission. For the nine months ending in April, College Partnership reported a 71-percent increase in revenue, to $14.1-million. During that time, it signed 12,258 customer contracts.

In a previous incarnation, College Partnership was penalized by the Federal Trade Commission. In 2001, the agency required the company, then called College Resource Management, to drop or alter specific claims it had been making. The FTC found that despite promises to give personalized service to students, the company had merely provided generalized information, and that it had falsely represented that families would receive substantially more financial aid with its service than without. The agency also said that the company had failed to furnish consumers with a notice of their right to cancel the service within three business days.

Doug Rother, College Partnership's president and chief executive officer, says it has "cleaned up" its operations and bought out the previous company's owners. "We've got a clean bill of health," he says. "We make big disclaimers everywhere. We don't make guarantees."

He also defends the use of mass mailings to market his company. "How else do you make people aware that there's an alternative" to high-school counselors? Mr. Rother asks. "The implication is that we should keep people in the dark and not let them know there are many alternatives."

Until recently, the company had an advisory board, whose members included independent and high-school counselors, and even the vice president of one university. Earlier this year, however, that board disbanded. Steve C. Munger, a college counselor at Bridgton Academy, in Maine, says he and other members resigned in response to widespread criticism from colleagues who charged that educators had no business mingling with for-profit college-assistance services.

Mr. Munger, who served on the board for about two years, says that the compensation was minimal -- a $3,000 annual stipend plus travel expenses -- but that he saw an opportunity to help the company improve its practices, including its solicitations. He says he resigned reluctantly.

"My feeling was that there was no ulterior motive to deceive, at least in any of the company's upper-level management," he explains. "At the same time, we all know that the company, as a publicly traded company, has an obligation to make money. So to a certain extent, they're going to do what it takes to make money. So if our proposal for a change starts to cut into profit margin, there is a rub. That's where you start to see the kinds of things that are misleading or very carefully worded, leading to potential ripoffs."

"It's so very difficult," he says, "to ensure quality control on presentations at each of these ventures."

PRESSURE TO PRODUCE

A former salesman for the College Funding Center agrees that the pressure to sign as many contracts as possible can lead some employees to go too far in describing the company's services. The former employee, who spoke on the condition that he not be identified, argues, though, that salespeople in the field might simply not understand what services their company actually provides.

He worked for the company for about a year before hearing complaints that it was not following through on its promises, he says. He had given hundreds of presentations, in hotel meeting rooms and families' homes, earning $300 for each sale he made. The company, he says, required him to pay for the lists of students' names -- which he bought from high schools for $1,000 to $2,500 -- and to rent hotel space. Each month it was up to him to earn that money back.

Still, he was enthusiastic about the service, so much so that he signed a cousin and personal friends to contracts. "It was an enjoyable job -- helping people, getting up there in front of people," he says. After his cousin and several clients told him that the company had failed to send any useful information, however, he was "devastated."

After all, his business card at the time bore the slogan, "We Secure 100% College Funding."

"That's the trick -- they could always get you college loans, and that's how they could cover" the 100-percent funding guarantee, he says. "They were sending them scholarships that were out of date. Hell, they weren't even sending them scholarships students were qualifying for."

Employees of college-aid companies are quick to say that their field is full of unscrupulous operators but that their own company is an exception. For example, Shawn Anderson, director of the Educational Assistance Council, based in Los Angeles, says his company offers better value than its competitors. The company, which provides scholarship searches, college and career counseling, and test preparation, is certainly less expensive. It charges only $39.95. The company courts clients through the mail but it does not use sales presentations, which Mr. Anderson says are "like going to a car lot and paying $30,000 above the sticker price."

Still, some college counselors complain that the company's letters misleadingly resemble government mailings. One recent letter to a student, for instance, came in a brown envelope that read, "For Immediate Attention of Parents & Student -- College Aid Document Enclosed." Inside was an application for the company's services.

Mr. Anderson says the mailings are not intended to give families the wrong impression. "Under no circumstances do we represent ourselves as anything other than what we are," he says.

As some of its mailings indicate, the company has a "National Policy Center," at 701 Pennsylvania Avenue, Suite 1218, in Washington, D.C. According to tax records, however, the address is a residential apartment owned by John W. Geranios, an assistant professor of strategic management and public policy at George Washington University who is the executive director of the company.

In an e-mail message, Mr. Geranios explains that the address is a "multi-use space" through which the company helps clients with questions about public policy and aids high schools in developing college-planning strategies. "Staffing varies and is based on project demands," he says.

FREE ALTERNATIVES

Glenda Rose, a college adviser at North Miami Senior High School, in Florida, is one of the most vocal critics of commercial college-assistance services. She has even wielded a picket sign to register her disgust, leading protests outside Miami hotels where the companies were holding their sales events.

College-assistance companies prey on low-income and minority students, Ms. Rose contends. Other college counselors say that even if companies are not homing in on them, such families, particularly those with first-generation college students, are more vulnerable to the pitches.

A recent Harris Poll, commissioned by the Sallie Mae Fund, found an "information divide" in families' knowledge about financial aid. Among those making less than $50,000 per year, 60 percent said they needed more information about how to pay for college, versus 37 percent of those making more than $75,000 per year. Nearly half of the parents with incomes of less than $25,000 per year said they had "no idea" how they would pay for college. Additionally, 66 percent of African-American families and 62 percent of Hispanic families said they did not have enough information about financial aid, compared with 44 percent of white parents.

A frequent theme at the presentations of the college-assistance companies is that high-school counselors are too busy to help each student through the admissions process. Mary O'Reilly, a counselor at Lake Park High School, in Roselle, Ill., says that while the message resonates with some parents, not all families use their high school's resources.

"You can make the statement that counselors are spread pretty thin," she says, "but you have to ask, Did the family take advantage of what was available at the high school? Did they make an appointment with the counselor? Did they come to financial-aid night? Did they go to college fairs?"

Many states have agencies that offer free information about the college-admissions process. Lisa Smith, outreach coordinator for the Arkansas Student Loan Authority, regularly treks to college nights and financial-aid workshops throughout the state, talking to families about searching for scholarships and how to navigate the admissions process. Her office completes about 5,000 free scholarship searches per year.

College-assistance firms "make it sound so good," Ms. Smith says. "A lot of the parents are nervous. Once they hear the sales pitch, they're like, 'Oh, yeah, this is great.'"

At its annual conference this month, the National Association for College Admission Counseling passed a resolution to "explore the creation of a systematic information-and-tracking system to fully inform members about questionable scholarship and financial-aid service providers and expand the type of consumer information that we may distribute to students and parents about their rights and preventative measures."

That's welcome news to Ms. Rose, who has lobbied for the association to scrutinize these businesses for years. "The worst part about this whole thing is that our own professional organization does not take a stand about this," she says. "It's the fox guarding the henhouse."

The association's practice of renting exhibit space at its conventions to the financial-assistance companies, including Edifi, for thousands of dollars in fees, also irks Ms. Rose and other counselors. In past years, the College Partnership has had a booth, but this year Nacac did not permit it to exhibit, says Mr. Rother, head of the company.

Joyce E. Smith, Nacac's executive director, says she takes the issue seriously and investigates complaints from members about specific companies. "We don't have any responsibility for the companies in terms of how they market themselves," she says. "We try to give them feedback about how service might be coming across to our members. If they are doing something abhorrent or inappropriate, they cannot exhibit in our exhibit hall. But I can't make a judgment about whether someone has priced their program appropriately, that they can't be in there to hang their shingle."

Ms. Rose says she has known too many students who have had bad experiences with the companies to give them the benefit of the doubt. "They're selling dreams and they're selling hopes," she says, "and people are so hungry for it."

She describes what students have told her about their disappointing experiences with college-assistance businesses.

There is Monica, for example, whose family signed a contract with a college-assistance company in her senior year at North Miami High. Monica had a 2.1 grade-point average and was ranked 333rd out of 469 seniors. She had not passed the reading portion of her high-school competency test, necessary for graduation. "She was having a hard time," Ms. Rose recalls.

Ms. Rose keeps a copy of the official "planning report" Monica received from the company. "The most exciting part of a student's report is our customized need analysis and estimated gift and self-help financial-aid packages on each of the recommended colleges," it read. "One of the colleges we analyzed for Monica was Harvard. With an annual cost of $30,682.00, Monica could receive over $82,124.96 in gift aid over a four-year period!"

PHOTO (COLOR): Teresita Diaz de Martinez, with her daughter Maria, of San Antonio, says that college-assistance companies "put stars in your eyes."

PHOTO (COLOR): Lisa Smith, outreach coordinator for the Arkansas Student Loan Authority: "A lot of the parents are nervous. Once they hear the sales pitch" from the companies, "they're like, 'Oh, yeah, this is great."

PHOTO (COLOR): Edifi, a college-assistance company, sent this invitation to a high-school student.

~~~~~~~~

By Eric Hoover


Copyright of Chronicle of Higher Education is the property of Chronicle of Higher Education and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.
Source: 
Chronicle of Higher Education, 10/17/2003, Vol. 50 Issue 8, pA39, 4p, 3c.
Item Number: 
11209818