a new creation
[Welcome to our annual Guest Writers Series. Meet articulate contributor #6...]
Hey folks—me again, the foreigner who still believes that America is a noble experiment of a country that should be admired. I didn't say perfect—just noble.
I arrived in the U.S. in the early 1970s and lived in New York City. Of all the places to relocate a family at that time, it was a very difficult place to properly raise a Black family from the Caribbean and help them become successful. My mother, who was divorced, took on that task and did it brilliantly. She taught us that having good manners, getting a good education, and eating everything on our plates were good things that would help us become productive citizens. Homework and no TV on school nights were non-negotiable. Saturday morning chores came before Saturday morning cartoons and Soul Train. Sunday church was a must, even though we had to take the bus during harsh NYC winters. My dad did the best he could from afar in Florida, where he moved soon after our arrival in the U.S. But Mom—thank God she is still around—was our rock.
These values were preached and practiced by Mom and by most families in our neighborhood in Queens. We were not the rough-and-tumble, hardcore inner city found in other parts of NYC. Instead, we lived in a true working-class neighborhood filled with bus drivers, nurses, mechanics, and restaurant workers. The one thing everyone understood and hoped for was that we were all working toward improving our economic circumstances. We dared to dream that someone from our neighborhood would someday earn six figures. Deep down, most of us knew it probably wouldn't be us, but we pressed on anyway.
Most kids in the neighborhood graduated from high school. Some went straight into the workforce, others, like me, went to college, and still others joined the military. No matter where we ended up after high school, we knew there was no economic cavalry coming to save us. We had to save ourselves through gainful employment. We also knew that the values we learned from our families and neighbors would be the foundation for success.
One of the most popular shows at the time was, of course, The Jeffersons, with its "Movin' On Up" theme song echoing the hopes of many Black Americans and others during the 1970s. We wanted to be George, Louise, and Lionel Jefferson—minus the laugh track. We certainly didn't want to be the struggling Evans family from the other popular Black sitcom of the era, Good Times. It always seemed like Groundhog Day for the Evans family. The line in the theme song about "keeping your head above water" captured what seemed to be their perpetual struggle. Jimmie Walker's signature "Dyn-O-Mite!" was hysterical, but we didn't want to trade places with them.
I would venture to say that The Jeffersons represented the family most people I knew wanted to emulate economically. While it was never explicitly stated, we can reasonably assume the Jeffersons were millionaires. Maybe they weren't liquid millionaires, but based on the assets and businesses they controlled, they were certainly in that realm. I believe there were several mentions of George owning seven dry-cleaning stores in Manhattan. In today's dollars, he would almost certainly be considered a multi-millionaire.
Fast forward to today, and I know several people from my early circle who are, in fact, millionaires. Again, maybe not in liquid assets alone, but between home ownership, pensions, savings, vehicles, and other tangible assets, they qualify for that title. Many who followed the rules taught by our parents are living the American Dream beyond what we once imagined. Taking trips overseas, driving electric cars, paying $400 for concert tickets, buying a beautiful ring for a spouse—many are doing better than their parents ever did or than they themselves imagined possible.
The hope for that generation is that their children and grandchildren can capitalize on their success. Maybe the “B” word might be more prevalent in the future. The “B” word is for billionaire.
The new buzzword in politics is that we are being controlled by billionaires. According to Google, there are now more than 3,000 billionaires in the world. Gone are the days when only a handful of names—such as J.D. Rockefeller, J.P. Morgan, and the Vanderbilt family—dominated discussions of immense wealth. Today, those names have been joined by people like Jay-Z, Taylor Swift, Oprah Winfrey, Mark Cuban, Jeff Bezos, and Elon Musk.
For many of us, our first familiarity with a billionaire was Thurston Howell III from Gilligan's Island. We seemed to like Thurston because he was portrayed as a blundering, somewhat eccentric regular guy.
There is a new development that has occurred in the last few days as of this writing. It has certainly set many critics' hair on fire. Elon Musk, of Tesla and DOGE fame, has launched a SpaceX stock IPO that, according to some reports, has projected him to be a trillionaire. I'm not a huge fan of Musk personally, but shouldn't we encourage entrepreneurship that not only creates individual wealth, but also strengthens the economy by providing jobs, supporting manufacturing, and advancing technology?
Many products and services created by billionaires ultimately benefit society. It seems that the values we were taught earlier in life—hard work, excellence, and perseverance—are reflected in these achievements. Why, then, does there seem to be an underlying trend of demonizing success?
Yes, there have certainly been wealthy individuals who have used their fortunes to do harm. But to me, this represents a new frontier for our economy and society. I hope that the emergence of even greater entrepreneurial success will encourage others to create products and services that benefit society and improve life for everyone. Just as the California Gold Rush of the late 1840s inspired countless people to pursue new opportunities, perhaps this moment will inspire others to develop the next great innovation.
Until next year…
DG
