I am broke and I’ve never been happier.

I sit with a grand total of $200 to my name. If there ever were a run on the bank, I could walk.

All of the money I earned over the summer sits in some bank account for TCU and once I write the check, I don’t really know where it goes.

When I give campus tours for prospective students and their parents, one of the most common questions is how students can be expected to close the gap between what they have and what they owe.

News flash: TCU is expensive. But compared to other private schools, it is liberal with its financial aid. Seventy percent of students currently attending are receiving financial aid, according to the Financial Services Web site.

All scholarships, not just the full tuition Chancellor’s Scholarship, were raised last year to match the annual tuition increase.

There is a stereotype that accompanies the title of TCU student. But there’s a good percentage of students here who don’t have a trust fund, inheritance or bulging bank account, and TCU does its best to take care of them.

Texas is packed full of prestigious colleges that would be much more affordable. So why am I so happy to be attending a school that makes me seriously consider organ donation?

In short, it’s home. I knew it when I first stepped onto the campus. The grounds were beautiful and well-kept, the classes were small and the library’s collection of books older than John McCain was enough to make my heart race.

As cheesy as it sounds, TCU felt like a place where I could carve out an identity for myself. I didn’t want to be one student in a sea of 50,000.

Here, the provost of the university knows me by name. Here, I can be taught by professors who are not only experts in their fields but who challenge me to think in ways that can be difficult. You can’t put a price on that.

This is a place where students can choose to be happy. I can walk the campus and be delighted by the shriek of a freshman who is meeting one of our squirrels for the first time.

I can happily pass an afternoon watching people dodge cars on University Drive and wonder if you really do get free tuition if you get hit by a car.

I can look around and see the new buildings going up and think that maybe the check I wrote paid for some of that.

Of course, who knows? Maybe I bought the school a toilet.

In the end, I am willing to plunk down as much money as necessary for the chance to attend a university where 90 percent of faculty members possess the highest degree in their field, according to the Student Affairs section of TCU’s Web site. I love it so much that I hope to return here and teach (and, if I’m lucky, maybe get some of my money back).

So am I paying through the nose? Yes. Will I graduate with debt? Yes.

Is it worth it? Definitely.

Libby Davis is a sophomore news-editorial journalism and history major from Coppell.