by Jes | Mar 14, 2018 | Blog, Movement Moments, Navigating Family, Stories
Some kids have to grow into their ears; I had to grow into my fingers. They were long enough to catch the eye and spark commentary. People would say I had piano fingers and as a young person I took pride in that. Any indication of potential specialness was of great...
by Resource Generation | Dec 8, 2017 | Blog, Money Stories, Navigating Family, Stories
I’m writing this in the midst of the reality of the Senate tax bill sinking in. I’m writing this as someone who personally has benefited from tax evasion and wealthy people hoarding wealth. I’m writing this as an anarchist who doesn’t believe...
by Resource Generation | Jul 25, 2017 | Blog, Money Stories, Navigating Family, Stories
By Margi, RG member My Mini Praxis Group with Aunts and Uncles I grew up in an owning-class family and didn’t know it. My parents chose to live their daily lives within the means of their salaries, but subtly used inherited wealth to assist with big expenses like my...
by Resource Generation | May 3, 2017 | Blog, Money Stories, Navigating Family, Personal Transformation, Stories, Wealth Redistribution in Action
Act I: Family Philanthropy = Bad? My siblings and I found out that we were on the board of a family foundation six years ago over Christmas dinner. “Surprise! We are now the Pink House Foundation!” my parents announced over root vegetables and waning holiday cheer....
by Resource Generation | Apr 26, 2017 | Blog, Money Stories, Movement Moments, Navigating Family, Stories
“If you work hard, people will notice and you will be recognized.” Parts of that tale are true — at least for me as a young person with class privilege and access to wealth. Every week, I churn in a few dozen hours, and twice a month, a paycheck is deposited...
by Resource Generation | Apr 19, 2017 | Money Stories, Movement Moments, Navigating Family, Stories, Young People of Color with Wealth
When you open the door the sound pulls you in like an undertow, humming electric and mechanical. Light seeps in through dented and dirty windows high in the metal ceiling. It smells like sweat and burnt plastic; to anyone else, a strange combination, but to me, this...