Why the University Won’t Talk to You About Your Own Child
The call usually goes something like this.
You ring the university because something isn’t adding up. Maybe a grade, maybe a bill, maybe you just haven’t heard from your daughter in eleven days and the last text said “everything’s fine” in a way that didn’t sound fine.
A polite person answers. You explain who you are. And then they say the sentence that stops the conversation dead:
“I’m sorry — I’m not able to discuss that with you.”
You are paying for the tuition. You are on the health insurance. You claimed her as a dependent on your taxes eight months ago. You are listed as her emergency contact. And none of it makes any difference.
If that has happened to you, or you can feel it coming, this is what’s actually going on and what you can do about it.
The switch nobody tells you about
On the day your child turned eighteen, the law stopped treating them as your child and started treating them as an adult who happens to be related to you.
Nothing announced it. There was no form. It just happened, quietly, on a birthday that everybody spent thinking about the cake.
The practical effect doesn’t show up until months later — usually the first time you need information and are told you can’t have it.
It isn’t one wall. It’s three.
This is the part that surprises most parents, and it’s the reason a single phone call to the registrar never solves it.
There isn’t one barrier between you and information about your young adult. There are three, they come from three different laws, and each one needs its own key.
Educational records — FERPA. Grades, enrollment status, academic standing, disciplinary records. Once your student enrolls in a college or university, the rights under FERPA belong to them. Not to you.
Medical information — HIPAA. Anything to do with their health. The campus clinic, the emergency room, the counselling centre, the pharmacy. At eighteen, that information is theirs and nobody else’s.
Money — no single statute, but the same result. Bank accounts, the bursar’s office, financial aid, a credit card, a lease. Institutions won’t discuss an adult’s finances with someone who isn’t authorised, whoever is paying.
Three separate walls. Which is why the fix isn’t one document.
The things that don’t work
Almost every parent tries at least one of these first. None of them do what people expect.
“But I pay the tuition.” FERPA does allow a school to share records with the parents of a student who is a dependent for tax purposes. Note the word: allow. It doesn’t require it. In practice, the overwhelming majority of universities have a policy of declining unless the student has signed a release — because the discretion is theirs and saying no is the safer institutional choice. Your tuition payment buys an education. It doesn’t buy access.
“I’m the emergency contact.” An emergency contact is someone the institution will call. It doesn’t make you someone they’ll talk to, and it grants no authority to make any decision.
“She’s on my health insurance.” Being the policyholder gives you billing information. It doesn’t give you clinical information, and it doesn’t give you the right to speak to a doctor.
“I have a copy of his birth certificate.” It proves you’re the parent. Being the parent is precisely what stopped mattering on the eighteenth birthday.
What does work
Your young adult can grant you access. That’s the whole answer, and it’s simpler than people expect — the difficulty is never legal, it’s the conversation.
Four documents cover the three walls:
A FERPA authorization lets the university share educational records with you. Many schools have their own version buried in the student portal, which is worth doing as well — but a standalone authorization travels with you and doesn’t depend on one institution’s form.
A HIPAA authorization lets doctors, clinics and hospitals share medical information with you. This one is federal, which means it works the same way in every state — useful if your student is at school somewhere other than home.
A medical power of attorney goes further than the HIPAA authorization. It doesn’t just let you receive information; it lets you make decisions if your young adult can’t make them for themselves. This is the one that matters at two in the morning when someone has to consent to treatment.
A financial power of attorney lets you handle money and administrative matters on their behalf — talk to the bursar, deal with a bank, sort out a lease problem, handle a tax question.
None of these takes anything away from your student. They can revoke every one of them at any time. They are not signing away independence; they are choosing who gets to help if something goes sideways.
The conversation
This is the actual obstacle, and pretending otherwise doesn’t help anyone.
Your eighteen-year-old has just spent a summer being told they’re an adult now. Handing them legal paperwork can land as we don’t trust you — which is the opposite of what you mean.
A few things make it go better.
Lead with the emergency, not the grades. “I want to be able to help if you’re ever in a hospital and can’t speak for yourself” is a conversation about love. “I want to see your midterm grades” is a conversation about surveillance. Both may be true. Start with the first one.
Be honest that it’s mutual. If you don’t already have your own powers of attorney in place, do them at the same time. It stops being something being done to them and becomes something the family does.
Let them keep control. Point out that they choose who it is, they choose what it covers, and they can cancel it tomorrow. Most young adults relax considerably once they realise it isn’t permanent.
Don’t do it in August. Move-in week is chaos and nobody is listening. The conversation lands far better when they’re home for a holiday and the house is quiet — which is also, conveniently, when they’re available to sign.
What to do now
If your young adult is already at university, you don’t need to wait for a crisis to sort this out. But you probably do need to wait until they’re home, because the signing is easier in person and the conversation is much easier in person.
Thanksgiving is the conversation. Winter break is the paperwork.
If they’re still at home, do it before they leave.
And if you’re reading this because something has already happened — a phone call that went nowhere, an illness you found out about second-hand, a bill you couldn’t ask about — that feeling is the most common reason families finally get this done. It’s not too late. It’s just later than you’d have liked, which is true of most of the useful things we do as parents.
Entrust-Docs prepares all four documents for Texas families. The questionnaire is in plain English, each document comes with a short video explaining what it actually does, and your young adult signs with a live notary over video — from their dorm room, at a time that suits them.
That last part matters more than it sounds. A Texas financial power of attorney has to be notarized to be valid. Without online notarization, that means printing the documents, finding a notary, and persuading your student to physically go — from four hours away, in the middle of a semester. Most families finish ours in about ten minutes on a phone.
About Me
Jeremy Cleverly is an estate planning attorney who helps families put thoughtful plans in place for the people they love most.
His work focuses on helping parents protect minor children, prepare young adults for greater independence, and assist families navigating the legal and practical concerns that come with aging parents. He also helps individuals and couples create clear plans for incapacity, inheritance, family responsibilities and the transfer of assets.
With more than two decades of legal experience, Jeremy takes a practical, personal approach to estate planning. He begins with the family, the goals and the concerns—not the documents—then builds a plan designed to provide clarity, reduce conflict and protect what matters most.

