23536
Bluelight Crew
I knew him as "Mr one-glove". The origins of his nickname were cloudy, but had to do with his legendary stinginess. He had just lost his company close to $1bn betting on mortgages. That company, facing massive losses from him and other traders, had only staved off bankruptcy because of the grace of the government.
It was late in 2008 and Mr one-glove had joined us at a bar, a group of disparate Wall Street traders united in an attempt to drink away a bad year. Near the end of the night, Mr one-glove leaned into the table of beers, and asked,
Mr one-glove was not somebody who trafficked in irony. Despite the massive loss, despite his company being bailed out, Mr one-glove didn't get fired, nor did he lose any of his wealth. No, Mr one-glove got paid well. Not by his standards, since he did not get a year-end bonus, just his salary of around $300,000. Mr one-glove was unhappy with that.
Nearly five years later, my life was very different. I left my Wall Street job to start a photo project documenting the lives of addicts in the Hunts Point section of the Bronx, New York City's poorest neighborhood.
A year ago I sat with one my new friends, Takeesha, at a small table in a visiting room in Rikers Island jail. Takeesha was in Rikers for possession of a needle and for intent to sell. Or maybe this time it was for prostitution. Takeesha is often in Rikers. Near the end of our conversation, Takeesha leaned into the table and asked,
Takeesha did not end up getting out; she spent another two months, held a total of four months, for a variety of charges that almost all ended up being dropped.
Takeesha was raped at 11-years-old, by a family member, and pimped by another family member at 13. She ran away at 15. She has worked the last 25 years as a prostitute in Hunts Point and is addicted to both heroin and crack. Her story is not different from many homeless addicts I have gotten to know: childhood trauma, often sexual abuse, followed by rejection by the family, followed by addiction, and then, almost always for the women, followed by prostitution.
Mr one-glove is not that different from many whom I met on Wall Street over my 20 career. He had upper middle class parents, was college educated, got an MBA, followed by a demanding high-paying job that became his identity.
What have I learned from knowing both Mr one-glove and Takeesha? Here's my one-line answer:
Yes, it is like comparing apples and oranges. That is the point though. We have built two very different societies with two very different sets of values. Takeesha was born into a world with limited opportunities, one where the black market has filled the void. In her world transgressions are resolved via violence, not lawyers. The law as applied to her is simple and stark, with little wiggle room.
Mr one-glove was born into a world with many options. The laws of his land are open for interpretation, and with the right lawyer one can navigate in the vast grey area and never do anything wrong. The rules are often written by and for Mr one-glove and his friends.
The story continues: http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/sep/08/wall-street-versus-poor-in-america
It was late in 2008 and Mr one-glove had joined us at a bar, a group of disparate Wall Street traders united in an attempt to drink away a bad year. Near the end of the night, Mr one-glove leaned into the table of beers, and asked,
Mr one-glove was not somebody who trafficked in irony. Despite the massive loss, despite his company being bailed out, Mr one-glove didn't get fired, nor did he lose any of his wealth. No, Mr one-glove got paid well. Not by his standards, since he did not get a year-end bonus, just his salary of around $300,000. Mr one-glove was unhappy with that.
Nearly five years later, my life was very different. I left my Wall Street job to start a photo project documenting the lives of addicts in the Hunts Point section of the Bronx, New York City's poorest neighborhood.
A year ago I sat with one my new friends, Takeesha, at a small table in a visiting room in Rikers Island jail. Takeesha was in Rikers for possession of a needle and for intent to sell. Or maybe this time it was for prostitution. Takeesha is often in Rikers. Near the end of our conversation, Takeesha leaned into the table and asked,
Takeesha did not end up getting out; she spent another two months, held a total of four months, for a variety of charges that almost all ended up being dropped.
Takeesha was raped at 11-years-old, by a family member, and pimped by another family member at 13. She ran away at 15. She has worked the last 25 years as a prostitute in Hunts Point and is addicted to both heroin and crack. Her story is not different from many homeless addicts I have gotten to know: childhood trauma, often sexual abuse, followed by rejection by the family, followed by addiction, and then, almost always for the women, followed by prostitution.
Mr one-glove is not that different from many whom I met on Wall Street over my 20 career. He had upper middle class parents, was college educated, got an MBA, followed by a demanding high-paying job that became his identity.
What have I learned from knowing both Mr one-glove and Takeesha? Here's my one-line answer:
Yes, it is like comparing apples and oranges. That is the point though. We have built two very different societies with two very different sets of values. Takeesha was born into a world with limited opportunities, one where the black market has filled the void. In her world transgressions are resolved via violence, not lawyers. The law as applied to her is simple and stark, with little wiggle room.
Mr one-glove was born into a world with many options. The laws of his land are open for interpretation, and with the right lawyer one can navigate in the vast grey area and never do anything wrong. The rules are often written by and for Mr one-glove and his friends.
The story continues: http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/sep/08/wall-street-versus-poor-in-america
