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Remarks by Jelena McWilliams, Chairman,
Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation at
the National Diversity Coalition
Washington D.C. Town Hall Meeting;
Washington, D.C.
March 14, 2019
Good afternoon. It is a great honor to be invited to speak to you today. Thank you so
much for the invitation.
As I was considering what topics would be of interest to you, I thought it would be good
to share some of my personal experiences and discuss steps the FDIC is taking to help
more people achieve the American Dream.
One of my first jobs when I arrived in the United States as an exchange student in the
early 1990s was in car sales. The car dealership was located in a dilapidated downtown
of a once prosperous town that peaked in the 1800s and never recovered from
suburban flight in the mid-1900s. My fellow salesmen – Harold, Harlan, and Harry – had
collectively spent over a century at this dealership. They were in their mid-60s and I was
the first woman to join their ranks.
Since the new auto mall was built on the periphery of the town, and this dealership was
the only one left downtown, business did not go so well. Harold, Harlan, Harry, and I
had plenty of time to bond while waiting for a lonely customer to wonder onto the lot.
One day Harold pulled me aside and, with a toothpick in his mouth, said, "Listen, if you
do not lose your accent, you are not going to make it in America." I thanked Harold, for
he had no bad intentions. In his own way, he was trying to be helpful.
Harold, Harlan, and Harry have since passed away. The dealership closed its doors and
the downtown where it was located is patiently awaiting an urban revival that may never
arrive. While I am still figuring out what it means to "make it" in America, my life
experiences have shaped how I view our regulatory framework and the role regulatory
agencies play in our American landscape.
I was born in the former Yugoslavia, on the wrong side of the Iron Curtain, to a family of
great character and humble means. Neither of my parents went to high school. As an
impoverished teenager, my father fought in World War II as millions of civilians were
slaughtered across Eastern Europe. As the post-war recovery took shape, educating
girls was not a priority, and men were needed to guard the borders, not perform
calculus. Education was not even an option for my parents. Still, years later, these two
Remarks by Jelena McWilliams, Chairman,
Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation at
the National Diversity Coalition
Washington D.C. Town Hall Meeting;
Washington, D.C.
March 14, 2019
Good afternoon. It is a great honor to be invited to speak to you today. Thank you so
much for the invitation.
As I was considering what topics would be of interest to you, I thought it would be good
to share some of my personal experiences and discuss steps the FDIC is taking to help
more people achieve the American Dream.
One of my first jobs when I arrived in the United States as an exchange student in the
early 1990s was in car sales. The car dealership was located in a dilapidated downtown
of a once prosperous town that peaked in the 1800s and never recovered from
suburban flight in the mid-1900s. My fellow salesmen – Harold, Harlan, and Harry – had
collectively spent over a century at this dealership. They were in their mid-60s and I was
the first woman to join their ranks.
Since the new auto mall was built on the periphery of the town, and this dealership was
the only one left downtown, business did not go so well. Harold, Harlan, Harry, and I
had plenty of time to bond while waiting for a lonely customer to wonder onto the lot.
One day Harold pulled me aside and, with a toothpick in his mouth, said, "Listen, if you
do not lose your accent, you are not going to make it in America." I thanked Harold, for
he had no bad intentions. In his own way, he was trying to be helpful.
Harold, Harlan, and Harry have since passed away. The dealership closed its doors and
the downtown where it was located is patiently awaiting an urban revival that may never
arrive. While I am still figuring out what it means to "make it" in America, my life
experiences have shaped how I view our regulatory framework and the role regulatory
agencies play in our American landscape.
I was born in the former Yugoslavia, on the wrong side of the Iron Curtain, to a family of
great character and humble means. Neither of my parents went to high school. As an
impoverished teenager, my father fought in World War II as millions of civilians were
slaughtered across Eastern Europe. As the post-war recovery took shape, educating
girls was not a priority, and men were needed to guard the borders, not perform
calculus. Education was not even an option for my parents. Still, years later, these two
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uneducated, humble people instilled in their daughter a belief that education was the
only path upwards.
As I grew up, I became increasingly convinced that my destiny was in the United States.
From our modest surrounding in the Balkans, the United States looked like a brilliant
jewel, a beacon of hope, a land of opportunity – "a shining city on a hill". It was a land
where someone who worked hard and developed skills could achieve pretty much
anything. At least that is what American TV shows like "Dynasty" and "Dallas" led me to
believe.
When I told my parents that I saw my future in the United States of America, they were
crushed for I was — and still am — their beloved daughter. After much debate and
persuasion, my father said to me: "Why do you want to go a place where you are
always going to be a second class citizen?" Without pause, I responded: "I would rather
be a second class citizen in another country than the one I was born in. All I want is an
opportunity and I will make something out of it." With much sadness and concern, my
parents gave me their blessing and borrowed money from a family friend for my airplane
ticket and new luggage, which left me with $500 and my parents with debt that took
years to repay.
I spent my 18th birthday on a plane en route to the United States, with those $500
tucked in the pocket of my jeans and the dream that I could make it. The very next day,
I opened a checking account at a bank, and deposited all of my savings – all $500 – in
that account. It did not take long for me to realize that, in addition to a checking account,
I should have a credit card.
I applied for a credit card, but with no credit history and no assets other than that
meager $500, I was denied. Instead, I was offered the option to open a secured credit
card and I jumped on it. If you really think about it, the entire concept did not make
sense: I was essentially borrowing from myself while the bank held my money as
collateral and collected the interest. But with each swipe of that credit card I felt more
integrated into the very fiber of American society, and even more importantly – I was
building my credit history.
After 12 on-time monthly payments, the bank released my security deposit. With my
newly established credit history, I was able to obtain an unsecured credit card, and it
seemed a world of opportunities opened up. From there, I could get an auto loan and
buy a car, apply for student loans, and, eventually, secure a mortgage loan to buy my
first home.
This came in handy over the ensuing years. Because I could not afford to live in the San
Francisco Bay Area, I drove 160 miles round-trip to go to college every day. Along the
way, I had to get gas, and every time I pulled up at a gas station I was grateful for that
secured credit because I did not have to worry if I had enough cash in my wallet to pay
for gas.
uneducated, humble people instilled in their daughter a belief that education was the
only path upwards.
As I grew up, I became increasingly convinced that my destiny was in the United States.
From our modest surrounding in the Balkans, the United States looked like a brilliant
jewel, a beacon of hope, a land of opportunity – "a shining city on a hill". It was a land
where someone who worked hard and developed skills could achieve pretty much
anything. At least that is what American TV shows like "Dynasty" and "Dallas" led me to
believe.
When I told my parents that I saw my future in the United States of America, they were
crushed for I was — and still am — their beloved daughter. After much debate and
persuasion, my father said to me: "Why do you want to go a place where you are
always going to be a second class citizen?" Without pause, I responded: "I would rather
be a second class citizen in another country than the one I was born in. All I want is an
opportunity and I will make something out of it." With much sadness and concern, my
parents gave me their blessing and borrowed money from a family friend for my airplane
ticket and new luggage, which left me with $500 and my parents with debt that took
years to repay.
I spent my 18th birthday on a plane en route to the United States, with those $500
tucked in the pocket of my jeans and the dream that I could make it. The very next day,
I opened a checking account at a bank, and deposited all of my savings – all $500 – in
that account. It did not take long for me to realize that, in addition to a checking account,
I should have a credit card.
I applied for a credit card, but with no credit history and no assets other than that
meager $500, I was denied. Instead, I was offered the option to open a secured credit
card and I jumped on it. If you really think about it, the entire concept did not make
sense: I was essentially borrowing from myself while the bank held my money as
collateral and collected the interest. But with each swipe of that credit card I felt more
integrated into the very fiber of American society, and even more importantly – I was
building my credit history.
After 12 on-time monthly payments, the bank released my security deposit. With my
newly established credit history, I was able to obtain an unsecured credit card, and it
seemed a world of opportunities opened up. From there, I could get an auto loan and
buy a car, apply for student loans, and, eventually, secure a mortgage loan to buy my
first home.
This came in handy over the ensuing years. Because I could not afford to live in the San
Francisco Bay Area, I drove 160 miles round-trip to go to college every day. Along the
way, I had to get gas, and every time I pulled up at a gas station I was grateful for that
secured credit because I did not have to worry if I had enough cash in my wallet to pay
for gas.