The Two-Income Trap - Elizabeth Warren [47]
The possibility that a family—our family—faces a rapidly growing chance of disaster is too painful to think about, especially if there seems to be little way to avoid it. The Myth of the Immoral Debtor nourishes the unspoken idea that families who have lost their financial footing are a tainted group, some “other” who are different from the rest of us. If we can believe that those in serious trouble are morally suspect, then it is easier to glance away from the harsh dangers of everyday life. The myth supports a comforting illusion that the rest of us are safely distanced from financial collapse, making it possible to avoid that terrifying moment of connection with someone caught in a financial disaster, that frightening there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I realization.
One Survivor’s Story
Of course, not every job loss, divorce, or illness ends in the bankruptcy courts. Some families collapse under the weight of too many bills and not enough income, but many families do not. They may find themselves torn and battered, but they make it through.
Consider the Duprees. Jamal Dupree just turned forty, but he could be mistaken for a much older man. His face is deeply lined, and his hands shake when he lifts a cup of coffee. The trouble started with chest pains. Not the maybe-it’s-heartburn sort of discomfort, but the real thing: “It felt like someone had my chest in his fist and was just squeezing all the breath out of me. I never hurt like that in all my life. I thought for sure my time was up.”
Thanks to a quick-witted coworker who spirited Jamal to a hospital in nearby Nashville, Jamal’s time was not up. Three months after his open-heart surgery, Jamal was able to climb a flight of stairs again. Five months later he returned to his job as a technician at the electric company.
But five months was a long time for Jamal to take off from work. His wife, Trish, lost a lot of time at her job as an airline ticket agent, spending days outside the intensive care unit and weeks caring for Jamal after he went home. As the medical bills arrived in the mail, the Duprees were confronted by exclusions and deductions they hadn’t even known were written into their health insurance policy. “My medication costs me out of pocket over $200 per month. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have health insurance, but really, it doesn’t keep the wolf away from the door. They still want us to pay so much.” Jamal had another scare a few weeks after he returned to work: “I had blackout spells because of a medication I was taking. I fell in the shower and hurt my rotator cuff in my shoulder. I need surgery, but I am putting it off because I can’t afford the extra cost now. I would have a big bill at the end of the surgery.”
But Jamal and Trish were lucky in other ways. Because Jamal has always been a worrier, he had signed up for every form of insurance his employer offered. Hefty deductions chewed a hole out of his paycheck each month, but when he had his heart attack, it paid off. Once his vacation time was used up, the disability insurance kicked in, giving the Duprees 60 percent of Jamal’s former income. Jamal reflects, “It wasn’t really enough, but I don’t know what we would have done without that money.”
The Duprees inevitably fell behind on their credit card bills, and they missed a mortgage payment. “Norwest [Mortgage, Inc.] called me a bunch of times. They said, ‘We see you’re having trouble paying your mortgage. Come to our office and get a second mortgage and pay off your other bills.’” Jamal held firm; he didn’t want to risk losing the house that their three children were growing up in. But the calls scared him. He and Trish talked it through and decided that from now on, they would make the mortgage payment first—no matter what. Twice the gas was shut off, so they lived without hot water until the next check arrived, and the phone was disconnected for nearly a month. But Jamal