Our Next Life

’s Milo below), I learned how to cut Mark’s hair, and I dove headfirst into establishing a garden (I’ll also talk more about that soon). The last year has been a mire of politicized discussions, with masks and public health measures getting twisted into a political statement rather than common sense, so much so that it’s easy to focus on all the things not happening, all the things people you don’t agree with are doing. There’s a lot I want to say, it’s still money related, some will apply to early retirement, and some won’t. This year has taught me a lot about what’s actually important, and that also means what’s worth fighting for.

No individual resident feels like they are the one making gentrification happen, but in the aggregate, wealthier and whiter people moving into a historically lower income and more Black and Latino neighborhood has the effect of pushing people out who can’t necessarily afford to live anywhere else nearby. It’s important to note that these programs like free and reduced school lunch – those meant specifically for poor people – are also notorious for being especially hard to enroll in and stay enrolled in, putting those with lower literacy levels, those whose address changes frequently (I highly recommend the book Evicted if you’re unfamiliar with the epidemic of illegal and quasi-legal evictions happening all over the country, preying on poor people with no recourse) and those with limited fluency in English at a distinct and deliberate disadvantage. I’ll not go into all the policy details of the program, and it’s important to note that the funding was expanded for it under the Affordable Care Act in the states that chose to opt into Medicaid expansion (again, mostly bluer states), but it’s now being shifted to a block grant model that gives a fixed amount to each state, meaning: if more people want to get on the program than there is funding for, some of those people simply will not get health coverage (or the more people on it, the worse the coverage will be for everyone, because there’s only so much funding). But if you’re selecting properties entirely on the basis of maximizing profits (which usually means buying in more working class or low-income areas where home prices are lower), you’re hiring a property manager to deal with tenants without vetting them for racial bias or a history of tenant harassment or even illegal evictions, you’re not putting enough money into the property to properly maintain it, you’re raising rent every time you can legally do so, you’re not willing to work with people when they fall behind on rent in hard times, or you’re letting numbers make all the decisions for you,

And if the personal finance world truly cares about helping people, as we say we do, that means we need to do some real and hard introspection to examine our words and actions, and become actively anti-racist. What matters, if we care even the slightest bit about being inclusive and not upholding a racist system, is how Black people and other people of color feel when reading your words. At book events and FI gatherings, people have whispered thanks to me for not using the slavery language, or for wearing my Black Lives Matter shirt, telling me how alone they feel in so much of the FI space in particular and personal finance space more broadly. But when any topic can be called political, especially topics that disproportionally affect people of color, women, disabled people, immigrants, LGBTQ+ people and other marginalized communities, then we need to recognize that this “don’t be political” rule is less about politics, and more about limiting discussion only to things that won’t rock the boat.

A few especially relevant posts you might find helpful: I’ve long worried about people retiring with any number of high-risk elements to their plan: less than a million dollars saved, no contingencies or backup plans, a rock-bottom budget that has no wiggle room to cut spending when conditions get tough (like right now), retiring before they actually hit their goal number, using a “safe” withdrawal rate of 4% or more, assuming historical average or better returns in projections, not maintaining two to three years of expenses in cash savings, no budget for real health insurance (as opposed to health care sharing ministry “coverage,” which is not real health insurance), and on and on. Not worrying about that, and being able to focus entirely on our health and the health of our friends and family, is maybe the biggest privilege I’ve ever experienced, and that’s what FIRE should truly be all about. But second, listen to that feeling, because it is there with tough love but a crucial lesson: if you’re panicked, it means you’re not really financially independent yet, because you haven’t yet secured your peace of mind. * Share resumes and work samples with your network for friends and family who are already out of work As tough as times like these are, they’re a reminder of what’s truly most important.