2 Cents Plus $17.4 Billion Dollars

For whatever it’s worth, well actually for the $17.4 billion tax dollars that it’s going to take to save the 3 big auto companies, I’d like to add an additional 2 cents. Not because I’m feeling particularly generous, and not because I have money to spend, but because I’d like to think that as an American tax payer, my voice should be heard.  So, here's my 2 cents worth....

Obama's Invisible Hand At Work

What predicates a recession?  What is it that stops the mechanism of a free market? 

Surely it’s not just one thing, but rather the accumulation of many things that creates a sludge affect.  For President-Elect Barak Obama, the answer may lay with one of the world's greatest economists, Adam Smith.

Adam Smith wrote that, “within an economic society, each individual strives to become wealthy, intending only his own gain, but to this end he must exchange what he owns or produces with others, who value what he has produced.  By this division of labor and free market, public interest is advanced and wealth is distributed by an “Invisible Hand”.

America’s present economic failings are not just about deregulation, failed financial institutions or rising unemployment, or failed real estate, or outsourcing or illegal aliens without work visas.  It’s not just about who’s paying taxes, or the result of the 9/11 attacks, or Katrina, or the California fires.

America has had many disasters. Some man-made and some natural, but she has always overcome them.  The main thing is to get America back to work.  Because in order for Adam Smith’s economic theory of an “Invisible Hand” to distribute the country’s wealth, there must be a product, some “goodie” that is made in America; bought in America; and exported by America for profit. 

America needs to get back to work, so that the mechanisms of the free market can once again turn and Adam Smith’s Invisible Hand can get back to distributing the goodies.

Middle-Class America "For Rent"

I was born into a long line of renters.  My grandmother rented, my mother rented and I rented.  No one in my family acquired real property, no stocks, no bonds, no retirement plans and nothing of real value to pass down to the next generation. 

In fact, no real wealth had been accumulated throughout any generation of my family, for as long as my family has stood on American soil, more than two hundred years by a genealogist's account.  

This fact became even more poignant in 1997, when my grandmother passed away at the age of 78.  Nana died and left the unexpected expense of a funeral (her insurance didn't cover the burial).  She also left us a few sentimental trinkets, her cherished memory and a host of dust bunnies under her bed.  That was it.  The life legacy of a renter.  I decided then and there, that I would do better.

I attended a wealth building workshop that taught saving techniques for a First Time Home Buyer.  As my knowledge grew, so did my self-worth.  Three years later I purchased my home and officially became a member of America's middle-class.

The equity in my home grew and I had credit that allowed me to make home improvements, general repairs, purchase a newer car and ultimately to afford a college education for my kids.  But most importantly, in the event of my death, my children would have something more than just a funeral debt. 

In 2007 everything went terribly awry in the housing market.   Like so many other middle class Americans, I felt it's affects through the trickle down method.  It came in the form of increased mortgages, increased property taxes, increased water & sewer bills, increased food bills and the reality that our homes, as lovely as they were, weren't worth as much, as the money that we owed on them.

In other words, the equity that had been built up and borrowed  had begun to ebb and I failed the  Income to Debt ratio, and suddenly, credit was being denied.  Then came a series of small emergencies-- failed car brakes and broken eyeglasses, I tapped into my savings, until my savings were tapped out.  It was then that I saw the first "For Sale" sign on our sidewalk, then a line of them, like fence pickets.  

I'm lucky.  I've found a part time job to supplement my income.  But, I don't have the time or energy to mow the lawn, so our once plush grass, is overgrown and looks more like chaffs of wheat than blades of grass and each day is a struggle.   Yesterday, I put out a "For Rent" sign.  

It reminded me of my family's legacy, a legacy of renters.

America's Big Sneeze

All bets are off!  No matter who wins the U.S. presidency in November, the budget crisis will keep their hands tied from enacting any new policies in their first year.

Last week, I wrote a piece about Wall Street and the American economy, and I referred to America has having sneezed, that might’ve been an understatement. 

What I should’ve written, or what I meant to write, was that America sneezed and it was of the highest magnitude.  It has sent the country reeling into an all out, full fledge body convulsion, with eyes squeezed shut, knees bent, head reared and jerked about to face a seemingly free fall of the financial markets.

The U.S. government's Bail Out, the first ever in the history of America, may be like a huge handkerchief, but it will be ineffective if America doesn't get busy. 

Because, in addition to the woes on Wall St., the country’s national debt has skyrocketed too.  It’s getting close to 70% of the GDP (Gross Domestic Product).  To put this into perspective, Britain’s national debt is 43% of its GDP, France and Canada’s is about 65% and Japan is 150% . 

If the GDP measures the nation’s economy by totaling the goods and services produced, then I have to ask, what exactly does America produce?

We have to get back to our roots, that is America has to start producing a viable commodity--corn, or steel or re-invent the wheel or at least try to reinvent wheel.  One thing is certain, we cannot sustain a healthy economy if we are a nation of consumers. 

America has got to get back to work.  Back to building and manufacturing.  If we don't, then America is going to sneeze again and again and she’ll continue to sneeze as long as there's dust collecting in her factories and idleness among her citizens.

Martin Luther King Jr. Revisited

I was not quite nine years old when Martin Luther King, Jr. passed from this world and although I knew of him, I did not know him.  All of the stories that I've heard have been passed to me, as if placed upon a silver platter.  I learnt of his achievements via school lessons and first person accounts that seemed more the lore of folks, who wanted to be included in his story, rather than to tell history as it actually was. 

Still, I forgave their trespasses.  I knew then, as I know now that they were simply over eager, zealous and proud recorders of Martin Luther King Jr,’s legacy.   That he was, indeed a great non-violent man that changed the thinking of a nation.   And I was honored that they shared their excitement with me. 

Living tales of sit-ins, boycotts and long walks that bordered on mythology,  neatly strung together, until suddenly it was over.  The real drama came in 1968, when riots and fires destroyed whole city blocks, like Blue Hill Avenue where I lived.  Some how all of it, the good, the bad, and the indifference, helped shaped my world.  A world that despite the ashes, was still some how a hopeful place to me.

Here I was, this skinny nine year old girl, whose parents were never share croppers, who never lived under segregated conditions, and never rode the back of the bus.  Still I was part of a stranger’s dream.  A dream where “little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers”.  And as I got older, I grew into that dream and I made it my own, wrapped myself into it and lived my life full of potential, to be the best that I could be and I did. 

It’s been forty-one years since Martin Luther King Jr. passed from this world.  Forty-one years since that long hot summer when my family stopped voting and cities burned.  But times change.

This month, we as a nation will recognize and celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday and we’ll take a moment to reflect on where we’ve been, how far we’ve come and where we’re going.  What an auspicious time to live by.

O beautiful, for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain,

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.

Pink on Wall Street

It's no longer an Easy Bake Oven Era for little girls in America.  Finally, fairy tales will be less effective in shaping her dreams.   Thank goodness!

Successful women, like Hillary Clinton, Sarah Palin, Oprah Winfrey, Rosie O'Donnell, and a professional women's basketball team, have all offered girls a chance to think outside the traditional gender box.  

Girls can be the hero and not always the victim.  She can be a princess, who chooses an education and can still have a knight in shining armor, or a frog that never turns into a prince.  She has choices!  And while there's much to get excited about, there's still a wall to overcome. 

Gender orientation in American society is such an integral part of our lives that it's not always seen as a problem.  Believe it or not, it begins in the maternity wards, where little color-coded bracelets separate the babies-- a little blue one for boys and a little pink one for girls.

Some adults unwittingly buy toys, the tools of human development, according to the band's color.   And so these innocent bands set the stage, which then allow gender orientation to be passed from one generation to the next. 

Recently, I was at the park and heard two children playing.  A little boy made a guttural sound as he played with a truck and a little girl made a cooing sound as she pushed her baby doll carriage.  Both toys had wheels, but they seemed destined to lead the children into two different places, one powerful and the other passive.

Tonka, the great toy manufacturer with its Wall St. Stock, doesn’t make a construction truck in pink. Maybe it ought to.

Maybe we would do better to raise our babies, according to what's inside their heads, instead of identifying them solely by what’s inside their diapers. 

In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash

Anxiety, that’s what millions of Americans felt when the U.S. government agreed to bail out Wall Street, at a cost of $840 billion dollars.

I thought there would be a run on the banks like in the movie, “It’s A Wonderful Life”, or maybe people would start jumping out of tall buildings or the sky would fall.  I waited for something to happen, and while the Dow on Wall Street continued to fall, the sky did not.

I know, because I looked up and watched as the sky went from blue to a peaceful purple, just like a hundred other nights, with just so many stars and planets out in space.  

It’s been over a week since the historic, unprecedented Bail Out of Wall Street and nothing seems to have changed.  McCain is still losing to Obama and the American people are still living beyond their means, that is they're still using credit cards to shop and the economy didn't get better, but we thought it would.

$840 billion dollars doesn't buy what it used to buy.  Maybe it’s the price of war, or the price for outsourcing American jobs, or maybe it’s inflation.  I'm reminded of the cardboard sign that use to hang on the wall in my neighborhood store:  

              "In God we Trust, All Others Pay Cash."

From Parent To Grandparenting

Hellooooooo..... from one parent to another, it's difficult to raise kids in today’s world.  When I say kids, I don't mean toddlers.  Toddlers are cute and manageable.  They eat, they crap, they have tantrums, and you get to watch them while they sleep.  They give unconditional love and when they're asleep, you can dream their dreams with them.  But these kids grow up and sometimes they become difficult teenagers. 

Teenagers.  They’re beautiful, wonderful, full of potential, exciting, dynamic and loving.  Kisses are carefully doled out and hugs limited to airports.  Teenagers have no control over their hormones or their emotions and they can be angry and moody.  Sometimes they suffer from bouts of rebellion, in which they use their parents as verbal punching bags, and outbursts can last from a couple of seconds, to minutes to hours. 

Oprah and Dr. Phil would have you believe that you need to listen to teenagers and acknowledge what they feel.  And you’ll try.  Mostly, you’ll try to survive, like you survived the Terrible Two’s, but this will be different, this will be like psycholgical warfare except there'll be no hugs & kisses. And you'll tell yourself, "this isn't my kid."  

But if you set boundaries for your teenager, you'll help them to become better citizens.  You'll solidify your relationship with them and ensure a place for you, in their adult lives.  And when they become parents, you can watch them as they go through all the pain and tribulations that they put you through.  Now, won't that be nice?  I think it'll be grand.  From parent to grandparenting. 

Adventures Into Mythical Middle-Class America

Quite contrary to some beliefs, there is a great swath of America that are first generation Middle Class Americans and this, despite the fact that the economy isn't doing so well.  

It is a testament that deregulation of the financial market, did in fact work.  I know, because I'm part of that success story, one that allowed my husband and me an opportunity to become first time home owners.  Amidst the clamor, we grabbed ourselves up by our boot straps, and then caught a firm hold of the American dream!  

We had come from one of Boston's typical rental neighborhoods.  A community of brick apartment buildings overstuffed with college-aged kids who lived with room mates, like we lived with our family.   We were an odd sight, a two parent family trying to raise two daughters in a one bedroom basement apartment across the hall from generational chaos.   

I came from a long line of city dwellers, all of them renters, hood rats, "Get rich quick" schemers, number runners, and uneducated menial workers.  They worked hard during the week and played hard on the weekends.  From this eclectic group, my husband and I decided that we would give our children more.  We wrote a list of "how to raise” a child and we tried to live by it.

The biggest part was to save money.  So, we rented movies, popped popcorn in a large pot with oil and a bag of popcorn kernels and ate pancakes for dinner.  And then one day it happened, we bought a house and moved away from the city and embarked on our adventure into middle-class America. The grass didn’t grow in patches, the trees grew to massive heights and it just seemed like there was so much more air to breathe.  And our family flourished.

And oh, what a wonderful place to be! 

But all that has changed.  Doomed by a mortgage crisis, plagued by buy outs and stripped by bail outs, America’s recent upheaval has nearly destroyed the financial landscape that had once made homeownership possible.  The middle class is slipping.

We’re fast becoming the underlings in a society of haves and have-nots.  The middle-class is shrinking at a disproportionate pace to the rest of the country, so much so that if nothing is done, we will become a myth in our own lifetimes.

Our survival depends on our children.  If we can undo some of the isolation that society has taught, me migth have a chance.  If we can remove the individual technology, that is take away the iPod, give a hug instead of an iTouch and listen, instead of sending a text message with the iPhone, maybe we can stop the disappearance of a whole class of people.  Maybe then we can get back to working as a collective group, one that realizes that America was founded on a doctrine that began, “We the people...”

That’s what we’re teaching our children.  It's a lesson in determination, a lesson of love and a lesson of patience.  Classes will commence immediately, so check back often.