My Journey From Wealth to Purpose

I found out my grandfather was a billionaire from an article in Forbes that my friend Andy found in our high school library. My grandfather’s rags to riches story had made him a bit of a celebrity—the son of Greek immigrants whose mother died when he was thirteen, grew up in and out of stable housing, worked his way through college, graduated top of his class and captain of his tennis team, and built a company from scratch to become a billionaire. In our house, we didn’t talk about money, but we were made aware of its injustice—how unfair the lottery of life is and how lucky we were to pick up a winning ticket on our way out of the womb. We had our very own American Dream story, and yet we knew the dream only existed for some, more luck than bootstraps. Taking our luck for granted was not tolerated—a lesson we were taught with hand-me-down clothes, homemade crafts, and birthday celebrations so modest that I’m still uncomfortable receiving gifts.

After college, I joined Teach For America. My students were nothing short of amazing: primary income-earners, caretakers of grandparents, siblings, and sometimes their own children. They analyzed Beowulf, Baldwin, Shakespeare and Faulkner with passion, bringing fresh perspectives to tired story lines. The stakes were high; their reliance on insufficient and unjust public programs unfair. I still didn’t talk about money, but I saw what happens when there isn’t enough, how it squanders talent, crushes focus, erodes passion. The daily complications of being poor seemed enough to keep even the most relentless and talented from reaching their goals.

I became a Teach For America fundraiser, securing investments to bring more teachers to Charlotte. I couldn’t help but notice what lacked investment: the businesses and infrastructure of the communities where students lived, in the shadows of the affluent neighborhoods where money came from. A study showed that Charlotte ranked dead last of the 50 largest US cities in terms of social mobility,[1] a data point to back up what we already knew.

In 2012 I went to lunch with a donor-turned-friend and mentor. He was General Counsel for Global Endowment Management (GEM), an investment firm for endowments and foundations, founded with the goal to maximize returns, but standing at the precipice of a rapidly evolving marketplace. I soon met GEM’s CEO, who maintains that I didn’t know the difference between a stock and a bond—maybe that’s true, but what I really didn’t know was why I was there. It was not-quite-an-interview for a role that hadn’t yet been created, in a field that was in its nascency, on a team where I didn’t belong. But they asked me to join—they could teach me how to invest, and I would lead the research and development of GEM’s ESG and impact investing capabilities. It was a leap, but what did I have to lose? Thousands of hours at Teach For America, and the needle hadn’t budged on educational equity.

My first investment conference was Confluence Philanthropy Annual Practitioner’s Gathering where Clara Miller announced Heron’s commitment to invest all of their assets for mission. Clara said, "we have come to conclude that unfortunately, our comfortable habit appears to have outlasted the accuracy of the premises on which it was founded, and in the process has grown less useful year by year. The world has changed, and so must we. It’s time for a new approach."[2] The next several years were a blur, the learning curve steep, with more stubbed toes than victories. But I held onto Clara’s words, grasping for a new approach, a future where money is a tool for justice rather than a cruel lottery.

Today, I am a Principal and our Director of Impact at GEM; I sit on our investment team and as a non-voting member of our investment committee where I oversee our portfolio of impact investments and support the team to incorporate ESG factors and impact measurement into every investment decision. I invest much of my inherited wealth and income after expenses alongside our clients at GEM.

As an investor—both of my own assets and those of our clients—I am grounded by the contrast between my grandfather’s experience and the experiences of my students. He ascended from poverty to become one of the richest men in America because of capitalism, because people invested in his big ideas. But not everybody gets that investment; and, disproportionately, Black and Brown entrepreneurs are left behind. How many future billionaires have we overlooked? How many of my former students were overlooked—becoming waitresses instead of chefs, secretaries instead of CEOs, app users instead of app developers? How many would have become like my grandfather, investing their wealth in the communities where they grew up and sending hundreds of friends and family members to college?

This is why I’m proud of GEM’s investment with fund managers like Precursor Ventures, BBG Ventures, and Felicis Ventures, who invest in the big ideas of diverse entrepreneurs at the seed stage, at that pivotal moment when they just might change the world but need capital to do it. This is why our team attended the Racial Equity Institute, rather than yet another investment conference. We must understand the history that has concentrated wealth in the hands of the few, and we must leverage our position as asset allocators to change the future.

Clara Miller’s words stuck with me: I’m not afraid to question the accuracy of the premises on which our industry was founded. When I arrived at GEM, we and most of our peers subscribed to the notion that excluding oil and gas investments was anathema to endowment investing. And yet, with a little cajoling and the capital to back it up, we developed an option for our clients to divest from dedicated fossil fuel strategies. Today, we also invest in the future—including an investment in the world’s largest battery storage project, which provides stored energy into the California grid and displaces the need for natural gas peaker plants.

I remain—against all odds—committed to helping others understand how capitalism can drive positive outcomes. Some of our best financial investments are our highest impact investments—even among managers that don’t call themselves impact investors. Firms like Ribbit Capital, InTandem Capital, and Oak HC/FT are investing in the financial services, healthcare, and technology companies of the future. L+M Development Partners builds much-needed affordable housing units and IQHQ builds sustainable and high-quality medical research and development space—both perhaps more important and relevant now than ever. Owl Ventures and Education Growth Partners are investing in high-quality, accessible education tools and technology. At GEM, we believe that to move more capital to impact investing we must close the divide between investors that see themselves as impact investors and those that do not. The truth is we are all impact investors; the question is what kind of impact do we want to have?

Outside of my GEM investments, I recently transferred my Wells Fargo checking and savings accounts into new accounts with Mechanics and Farmers Bank, the oldest and one of the few Black-owned banks in North Carolina. I invest with CNote, where I can receive a steady and reliable return while investing in entrepreneurs who are women and people of color, affordable housing, and community development projects.

There’s still a lot of work to do. I have a significant concentration in fossil fuel stocks that have been gifted to me by my parents and their parents; I’m in the process of offloading it, but I wasn’t brave enough or smart enough to do it sooner, and I’ve lost a lot of money while my head was in the sand. My 401k is invested in a standard Vanguard fund—I’ve been so focused on our portfolio that I haven’t started asking questions about GEM’s 401k plan options. I suppose that will be a 2021 objective.

I’ve been reluctant to have this conversation at home. In 2018 my best childhood friend died after 36 years of addiction and sadness; the only thing we still had in common was our role as inheritors. My fear about my sons’ relationship with wealth lives rent free in my mind, the way most parents worry about choking hazards or speeding cars. My husband and I are committed to investing and spending money in alignment with the values of our family, even as we continue to define—and refine—what that means.

I’m cautiously optimistic—not just that this field will continue to grow (I believe it will), but also because it is addressing our world’s greatest challenges in innovative ways, pressuring entrenched systems to become cleaner, more equitable, and more focused on outcomes. 2020 showed us some of our worst truths, but it gave way to opportunity: to find new approaches to solving old problems.

Disclosure: This content is being provided for informational and discussion purposes only. No representation or warranty, express or implied, is being given or made that the information presented herein is accurate, current or complete, and such information is at all times subject to change without notice. Global Endowment Management, LP (“GEM”) does not accept any responsibility or liability arising from the use of this information.  Any content provided by the writer is of the writer’s opinion, not GEM’s, and is not intended to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, individual or anyone or anything.  This does not constitute investment advice, or a recommendation, or an offer or solicitation, and is not the basis for any contract to purchase or sell any security, or other instrument, or for GEM to enter into or arrange any type of transaction as a consequence of any information contained herein.