I know that there is the Irish Republican Army, and I know that there is also the Individual Retirement Account. I know that I have one of the latter. I know that I get a few statements a month pertaining to my IRA, and that they go one of two places. On days when I'm feeling particularly mature, like a grown-up who handles her own business and plans for her own future, the statements go (unopened) in the wicker basket in my kitchen, joining a host of bills, receipts, and other items to be dealt with at a later date. On days when I'm feeling more myself, the statements go (unopened) in the box of burnables next to the woodstove, or straight into the fire if there happens to be one.
I'd say I open roughly 25 percent of my IRA statements. There are just too many of them, and I don't really understand what they are trying to tell me. But about a year ago, on one of my grown-up days, I opened a thick packet from my friends at the Growth Fund of America (AGTHX), who at that time had all my money. I can't remember what made me do it. Perhaps it was the heft of the envelope, and the hefty postage it cost for them to get it to me. At any rate, I opened it, and it was sort of a hybrid brochure / coffee table book of what the Growth Fund of America was all about. And then I saw, with my own eyes, exactly where my money was.
It was like an evil scientists convention. For fossil fuels profiteering, I had Halliburton, EOG Resources, Exxon, Chevron, and Shell. For toxic food, I had Monsanto. For weaponizing the world, I had Lockheed Martin. For exploiting addiction, I had Philip Morris and Teva Pharmaceuticals. For deforestation, I had Weyerhauser. For child slavery in Africa, I had Nestle. For fake news, I had Fox. And for big banks, I had all of them.
It was more than a girl could bear. Slipping the brochure into the firestarter box, I vowed to make a change. I didn't quite know what to do, but I suspected it would start with calling my financial advisor. That. I would do that.
But twelve months came and went. A ream of envelopes from Edward Jones and American Funds went into the wicker basket, or the woodstove. It wasn't that I didn't care. In my day-to-day life, I was attempting not to buy food from companies that used Monsanto products. I had stopped eating Nestle and other peddlers of "slave chocolate." I never tuned in to Fox news. And as the Dakota Access pipeline cleared its final hurdles, I had divested from a couple of the big banks that were behind it.
The culprit, I now see, was inertia fueled by lack of confidence. I didn't know anything about IRAs, other than that they weren't the plural of Irish Republican Army. I didn't know what "funds" were. I didn't know if I got to decide where to put my money. And so I just sat on my hands as my retirement fund continued to grow, courtesy of all my anti-values.
My friend Susan issued the wake-up call. It was a small moment; she just mentioned at one of our local peace group meetings that she had brought her investments in line with her principles, and the rest of us could, too.
I scheduled a meeting with my financial advisor. It was my second-ever meeting with him; the first was when I opened my account. I told him what I wanted: a retirement plan that would let me sleep at night. I floated a couple of ethical funds past him that I had found in a quick Q&A with Google. He agreed to research some funds of his own, and get back to me shortly with my all-new, earth-friendly, people-friendly portfolio.
The envelope came in the mail last week. It was another big one, stamped three times to ensure its passage up the hill from the Edward Jones office in Oakhurst. I have to confess, it did have a short stay in the wicker basket. But just a few days ago I opened it, and found that my retirement savings now sit in funds with names like TIAA-CREF Social Choice Equity Fund (IFBFX), Neuberger Berman Socially Responsive Fund (NBSLX), and Hartford Environmental Opportunities (HEOIX).
My work is not done. My advisor evidently thought I would be comfortable with mostly ethical investing, and so he stuck a few bad apples from American Funds in there, including a fund with considerable fossil fuels and Philip Morris holdings. But now that I know a little more about my finances, and have seen that I can be the boss of my own IRA, I'm not afraid to go back to him and ask for more.
It was more than a girl could bear. Slipping the brochure into the firestarter box, I vowed to make a change. I didn't quite know what to do, but I suspected it would start with calling my financial advisor. That. I would do that.
But twelve months came and went. A ream of envelopes from Edward Jones and American Funds went into the wicker basket, or the woodstove. It wasn't that I didn't care. In my day-to-day life, I was attempting not to buy food from companies that used Monsanto products. I had stopped eating Nestle and other peddlers of "slave chocolate." I never tuned in to Fox news. And as the Dakota Access pipeline cleared its final hurdles, I had divested from a couple of the big banks that were behind it.
The culprit, I now see, was inertia fueled by lack of confidence. I didn't know anything about IRAs, other than that they weren't the plural of Irish Republican Army. I didn't know what "funds" were. I didn't know if I got to decide where to put my money. And so I just sat on my hands as my retirement fund continued to grow, courtesy of all my anti-values.
My friend Susan issued the wake-up call. It was a small moment; she just mentioned at one of our local peace group meetings that she had brought her investments in line with her principles, and the rest of us could, too.
I scheduled a meeting with my financial advisor. It was my second-ever meeting with him; the first was when I opened my account. I told him what I wanted: a retirement plan that would let me sleep at night. I floated a couple of ethical funds past him that I had found in a quick Q&A with Google. He agreed to research some funds of his own, and get back to me shortly with my all-new, earth-friendly, people-friendly portfolio.
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| I actually opened this envelope from Edward Jones! |
The envelope came in the mail last week. It was another big one, stamped three times to ensure its passage up the hill from the Edward Jones office in Oakhurst. I have to confess, it did have a short stay in the wicker basket. But just a few days ago I opened it, and found that my retirement savings now sit in funds with names like TIAA-CREF Social Choice Equity Fund (IFBFX), Neuberger Berman Socially Responsive Fund (NBSLX), and Hartford Environmental Opportunities (HEOIX).
My work is not done. My advisor evidently thought I would be comfortable with mostly ethical investing, and so he stuck a few bad apples from American Funds in there, including a fund with considerable fossil fuels and Philip Morris holdings. But now that I know a little more about my finances, and have seen that I can be the boss of my own IRA, I'm not afraid to go back to him and ask for more.
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