I’m going to present two data points and follow them up with an impertinent question: “Despite being only 13 precent of the overall U.S. population, 40 percent of those who are incarcerated are black.” (American Progress) “Among black males born […]
I am angry and despondent. The world seems to be going to hell: blacks shot by police, a fascist with a chance to become President of the United States, myriad terrorist attacks, civil war in Syria, an attempted coup d’état, Brexit, […]
Thinking about certain aspects my job for just a few minutes can induce a feeling of anxiety, a tightening of the chest and quickening of the heart; in contrast, reading a couple pages of a book on physics can release […]
Another Example of My Stupidity! Thirty minutes into my planned 45-mile bike ride yesterday I experienced a flat tire (as a result of course, of my stupidity–I had overinflated the damn thing) and duly pulled over to fix it. I had […]
There’s been quite a firestorm (oh yea, pun intended) of controversy over the box-office hit movie American Sniper, and I can’t help but wade into it myself.
Mission Versus Business
Here’s a fundamental challenge in our business: the greater the alignment between our lending and our mission, the greater the strain on our loan portfolio performance. Phrased another way, the highest impact loans–those to ex-offenders, domestic violence survivors, and the temporarily homeless– are also the riskiest. This is through no fault of their own; rather, it’s simply a result of the tremendous strain that personal and financial instability places on a person.
As a nonprofit, it is incumbent on us that we adhere to our mission, which is to use financial services to create pathways out of poverty. Yet as a business, especially as one that debt finances its lending operations, we must also ensure that we are fiscally sound. To address this tension, we’ve taken several approaches. First and foremost, the interest rates we charge are designed to compensate for higher losses
The Power of Live Theatre (yes, I prefer the British spelling!)
Growing up I was privileged in many ways, one of them being the number of plays, musicals, and concerts I had the opportunity to see. I distinctly remember dressing up for the show, the architecture of the theatres, the voices and movements of the actors. Several theatrical experiences stand out as seminal moments in my development as a person in general and a writer and poet in particular. For instance, a number of years ago my parents and I went to see The Glass Menagerie at a small playhouse in Burbank, CA. The play, which is a masterpiece, came to life thanks to absolutely brilliant acting; when the curtain finally came down I was transfixed.
Live theatre, when done well, can be a transformational experience. It opens the mind, stirs the soul, and awakens the senses. In short, it can play a critical role in a person’s life–making them more cultured, thoughtful and self-aware. Unfortunately, as I’ve grown older and become more involved in fighting poverty and injustice, I’ve found myself increasingly concerned that all too often the arts are by the rich, about the rich, and for the rich.
Dogs–We Sure Love ‘Em
Take a dog lover to an animal shelter and you will almost certainly hear some variation of, “What did the dog to do deserve being here?” And unless it is particularly vicious, the answer is: nothing. We don’t blame dogs for being strays, and we are sad to know that so many of them live out their days in small cages in noisy, dirty pounds, often destined to be euthanized.
Our love of dogs is understandable. By and large, they are loving companions. They bring us joy and friendship. They guard us and guide us and support us. And in exchange, we Americans spend just under $56 billion on them!
Now, this isn’t going to be one of those “instead of spending that money on dogs we should be spending it on social issues” posts. I love dogs, and will soon be spending money on one too. I do, however, want to point out that in 2013 Americans donated a little over $41 billion to human service organizations–considerably less than spending on pets**. But most importantly, I want to talk about personal responsibility by asking a simple question: Why do we feel more compassion for dogs than we do for humans, or even for other animals (for we mustn’t forget that–thanks to our eating habits–there is a massive industry whose profits depend on the confinement, mistreatment and slaughter of animals)?
I need to write something, anything, be it profound or prosaic, masterful or awful. For once, I can’t afford to worry about grammar, for I fear that unless I release the flow of stymied creativity, the poetry will languish and grow heavy, like so much ballast sinking me to the bottom of the sea.
I’m afraid to pause. My fingers tremble, so let them strike the keys, and to do so violently if they must. I am tired and frustrated and angry. My inadequacy follows me wherever I go. I question my ability to better the world; to put my best foot forward; to inspire others; to write poetry and prose of worth to others, and worthy of my lofty expectations; to live up to my ideals; and to persevere in the face of hopelessness.
Thirteen years ago today 2,977 innocent civilians died during the worst attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor. Thirteen years later we are still fighting the wars we launched in response—in Afghanistan, in Iraq, and now in Somalia, Syria, Libya and elsewhere. I’d like to take a moment to analyze the implications of our response, a response that has had political, military and economic consequences beyond what I think many of us realize or acknowledge.
Let’s start with some numbers:
– $4 to $6 trillion – What a Harvard researcher estimates our wars in Afghanistan and Iraq will cost; another study from Brown University came to a similar conclusion