There was a time when Marc Bresler could afford to go to school, pay his rent and feed his family. It was never easy. But between his job as a UCSC teacher's assistant and his wife Eileen's meager wages from the Santa Cruz County Mental Health Department, the couple made enough to keep Marc in his doctoral program, their two kids in clean diapers and the whole family on a path to a better life.

Today, that path is looking rockier than ever and may prove too steep to navigate. That's because the Breslers have seen monthly rent for their two-bedroom apartment at UCSC's Family Student Housing residence hall go from $1,130 when they moved in two years ago to $1,210 in 2008 and, if the university gets its way, $1,300 come July. The steady increases, coupled with Eileen's hours being cut by the cash-strapped county, have left Marc with little choice but to drop out of the chemistry program and move somewhere more affordable if the school goes through with the proposed rent hike.

"I make $1,800 a month from my T.A. salary," says Marc as his 3-year-old son Thomas impatiently tries to show off a red snapdragon he's found. "Once they raise rent it will be $1,301 per month. That leaves $500, and you figure another $150 goes to utilities and car insurance, and $100 for laundry. That leaves $250 for food and it's simply not enough. It's morally crushing to think about."

The Breslers' miserable math equation has become the norm at the university's FSH complex. Dozens of parents, many of them surviving on a single income, are barely making ends meet now, and an extra $91 a month may be just enough to be too much. These students, however, are not content to sit idly by while the university prices them out of their homes and education. Since the rent increases were announced last month, single moms, working dads and married couples all around the bustling complex have joined forces to try and convince the school's Student Housing Department to spare them the 7 percent hike. So far, their requests have been met with a simple solution.

"They just tell us to get more financial aid," Marc explains. "But we don't want to take out more loans. We're already paying off debt from undergrad school, and I think it's ridiculous that the school's whole solution is for us to just go further into debt."

Jean Marie Scott, an associate vice chancellor for the housing department at UCSC, explains that FSH is treated like any other residence hall on campus--each of which will see a 6.5 to 8.2 percent rent increase for next year. She says the uproar from FSH tenants is understandable but is unlikely to produce any special consideration from the powers that be.

"We fully understand that this increase is hard for some students," says Scott. "But we still think, even at $1,300 a month, that these units are a very good value and, in reality, loan programs are part of how most students fund their university experience."

For Elaine Kinchen, a single mother and a graduate student, FSH is more than just a convenient place to live while going to school. It's the only residence that will rent to her and her toddler son Elliott.

"I spent months couch-surfing with my son because no one will rent a studio or one-bedroom apartment to a single mom with a kid. They won't even call you back," she says. "I literally don't know what I'll do if this increase goes through. A hundred dollars doesn't sound like it's a big deal until it's the difference between buying food or buying diapers."

What Kinchen and the Breslers say they will miss most if forced to move out is the FSH community itself. This is a place where neighbors become playmates, dinnertime is a communal affair and a baby sitter is always right next door. Sidewalks throughout the apartments are scrawled with pastel chalk in a tapestry of names like "Juliah" and "Bryan" and pictures of monsters, faces and alphabets.

These parents, like everyone who chooses to invest thousands of hours and dollars into higher education, are hoping to make life a little better in the long run. What sets the students at FSH apart, however, is that each of them has at least one other person who's also counting on them to succeed.

"My family comes first," Marc says before taking Thomas out to play with his toy truck. "I just hope I can make it through for their sake."

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