A boy played, too -- fourteen or so, braces, spindly arms. It was the boy's father who died on 9/11. I was moved, happy to see him so supported by his dead dad's friends. But supported in the context of such outrageous wealth is a complicated word.
When you dispassionately review the reality of the U.S. economy, it is a depressing state of affairs that screams out for Americans to get up, stand up and shout: "we can do better than the political and economic elites."
In America, the land of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, there seems to be a limited pool of well-being. We are wired-in, but existentially alone; we are electronically connected in social networks, but isolated from social groups.
I spend a lot of time persuading people that selflessness can be selfish. Arguing self-interest in philanthropy may seem like an oxymoron, but it is often the difference between success and failure in fundraising.
Attending the Nexus Summit were progeny of first generation entrepreneurs whose parents have created and sold firms to large conglomerates and their family has become instantly wealthy by a single event.
A utopia only for the rich is no utopia at all. Americans have to decide whether they are going to continue to chase after an unobtainable mirage, or choose to construct a society where the vast majority have the same chance at a happy and prosperous life as the lucky few.
Every day, I meet people who have become unemployed, taken a pay cut or are experiencing a slow period in business. They have credit card and student loan debt, and their taxes, food, and fuel costs are all skyrocketing. Sound familiar?
When most people think of estate planning, they think of creating wills and trusts to distribute their financial assets. If our legacy is to be lasting, we must preserve and perpetuate our values as well.