Remembering Mr. Popenoe or
“What Goes Around Comes Around – With Interest”

by Ruth Lampert copyright April 2009

I came in with a depression and, if health (mine and the
Global economy’s) fails me; I may go out with one. In between, I had the
Mixed fortune to experience a couple of personal financial catastrophes of my own. . I say “mixed” because one of the things I would have missed, if my fiscal life had been less tumultuous, was the experience of a bank whose name I have forgotten, and Mr. Popenoe, a bank executive whom I will always remember with gratitude.


I was in my late 40’s, divorced, in the process of “recycling me” (a term, like many others, seldom heard these days.) I had returned to college and earned my long-delayed bachelor’s degree (that’s another story, which I will tell another time) and was working as an educational therapist. My goal was to become a licensed psychotherapist, which required a master’s degree, which required more financial clout than I could claim. I did the logical thing – I applied for scholarships (and was awarded a partial one,) and also a loan from my bank. And that’s when “double standard” and “unequal opportunity” were dramatically and revoltingly illustrated.

The bank turned down my application. I asked why?? Because,” the
Loan officer (whose name, like that of the bank, I have forgotten but whose supercilious voice I will never forget,) said “You have money in your savings account (I think it was about $900.00) so you don’t need a loan.”

“But, but, but doesn’t the fact that in spite of starting over again on a small income, receiving no support from my ex-husband, I have managed to not only pay all my bills but put a little aside – doesn’t that prove I am a good risk? Doesn’t it?” I responded.

“Well yes, that’s true,” he said in effect, “so here’s another reason we are turning you down: as it is clearly spelled out (in what document I don’t recall) loans for higher education are limited to persons under a certain age, and you are too old.”

Yes, Virginia, in those days age and gender discrimination were rampant. My indignation and anger weren’t exactly muted either. I obtained the document in question, read it, and called back: “It clearly states that the age restriction is for undergraduates. I’m applying to graduate school so I’m not too old for a loan.”

“Uh, yeah, well, you’re actually right about that, but here’s another reason we are denying your request. When divorced women of your age go back to school presumably to pursue a career they actually are looking for a husband and if they find one they will never use the degree.”

I’m not making this up. That’s what he told me, I believe in almost those very words.
Somehow, through the haze of shock and rage which engulfed me, I learned about the bank’s “Consumer Advocate,” a Mr. Popenoe, may his name live forever in the annals of fairness and decency.

I wrote to him, explaining all the circumstances. In short order I received a copy of the letter he had sent to the bank’s lending office:
“Give this woman her loan and do so immediately.”
They did.
How I wish I had saved that particular piece of paper.

And that’s the story I have always told l to anyone who smirks about equal opportunity or feminism. Now I also tell it to anyone who talks about the failure of banks, the need for nationalization, I realize that this incident has nothing to do with the current troubles of the banking institution. It has everything, for me, to do with the misguided notion of the so-called “good old days.”

I’d like Mr. Popenoe to know that I did indeed get my degree and my psychotherapy license. After 30 years of private practice, I am on the verge of retirement. I’m also married. And to that mean-spirited, misogynistic loan office I’d like to say – well, this is a family blog, so use your imagination.