US President of the United States Joe Biden delivers remarks on student debt and lowering costs for Americans at Madison College in Madison, Wisconsin, United States on April 8, 2024.
Kyle Mazza/Anadolu via Getty Images
The Education Department announced $6.1 billion in student-debt relief or 317,000 borrowers.
The relief applies to borrowers who attended any Art Institute campus from January 1, 2004, to October 16, 2017.
Investigations found that the Art Institutes misled students about career prospects and salaries.
Student-loan borrowers who attended a for-profit chain accused of fraud are getting debt cancellation.
On Wednesday, President Joe Biden's Education Department announced that 317,000 borrowers who attended any Art Institute campus between January 1, 2004, to October 16, 2017, will receive $6.1 billion in debt relief.
The Art Institutes were a for-profit system that prompted investigations from the attorneys general of Iowa, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania. Using internal data from the schools, the investigations found that the Art Institutes "engaged in widespread and pervasive substantial misrepresentations that deceived students about the value they would be receiving from their education," according to the department's press release.
While all remaining Art Institute campuses closed in September 2023, some of its former students are still making payments on the debt. Wednesday's announcement changes that.
"The Art Institutes preyed on the hopes of students attempting to better their lives through education," Federal Student Aid Chief Operating Officer Richard Cordray said in a statement. "We cannot replace the time stolen from these students, but we can lift the burden of their debt. We remain committed to working with our federal and state partners to protect borrowers."
According to the department, this group discharge will automatically provide relief to impacted borrowers — including those who had not submitted an individual borrower defense to repayment application, a form borrowers can fill out to request relief if they believe they were defrauded by the school they attended.
The department will begin notifying borrowers of the relief on Wednesday. It will also ensure that impacted loans are put on pause so borrowers do not have to make any payments while the relief is carried out.
"This ensures that they will not face any further financial demands from these loans during the time needed to process their discharges," the department said. "When their discharges are processed, borrowers will see any remaining loan balances adjusted and credit trade lines deleted."
The investigations from the attorneys general found that the Art Institutes advertised that over 80% of graduates landed jobs within six months of graduation when that was not the case. The schools also had inaccurate average salaries — for example, according to the investigations, a former employee said a coworker used salary.com to report a graduate's salary as $25,000 despite the graduate reporting an $8,000 a year income.
Since Biden took office, the Education Department has enacted a range of targeted relief for defrauded borrowers. In June 2022, the department announced $5.8 billion in debt relief for 560,000 borrowers who attended now-defunct for-profit Corinthian College, the largest group charge the department had acted on to date.
In addition, the department has been carrying out relief through one-time account adjustments for borrowers on income-driven repayment plans and Public Service Loan Forgiveness, allowing payments that may not have previously been counted toward forgiveness to be accounted for.
More broadly, the Education Department is working to implement its broader student-loan forgiveness plan after the Supreme Court struck down its first attempt. The new plan, expected to benefit over 30 million borrowers, is in its public comment period, and the department plans to move toward final implementation as early as this fall.
Our yearlong cottage renovation stretched out more than three years. The work still isn't done.
Chris Burnett for BI
As I stood in my newly renovated bathroom, watching water spill over the shower edge and flood the room, I alternated between rage and exhaustion. Even with my untrained eyes, I could tell that the lip of the shower was improperly leveled, which led to water cascading to the floor instead of swirling toward the drain. If it was left unchecked, the long-term water damage would be disastrous.
The giant puddle at my feet felt like a watery manifestation of the shoddy workmanship, mounting expenses, and legal battles my husband and I had endured during the renovation of our 1,600-square-foot cottage. What was supposed to be a yearlong $140,000 renovation ballooned into three excruciating years that cost us more than $500,000 — and the work is still not finished.
Our story is not unique. Homeowners nationwide have grappled with similar construction calamities wrought by unreliable and often unscrupulous contractors. The surge in home renovations post-health emergency, fueled by hit TV shows such as "Property Brothers" and "Love It or List It" that make renovations look like a breeze, exacerbated the situation. According to Harvard's Joint Center for Housing Studies, home-improvement spending skyrocketed from $328 billion in 2019 to $481 billion in 2023. With demand soaring, contractors have been in short supply, granting them an unprecedented amount of power. If they leave projects half done or don't do a good job, opportunities still abound and new clients line up at their doors.
In Rhode Island, where my husband and I live, complaints to the Department of Business Regulation surged by 30% from 2019 to 2021, predominantly centered on contractors who accepted payment but failed to complete the contracted work. Between 2021 and 2022, the construction consultancy Arcadis reported a 42% increase in the average value of construction disputes in North America, a historical high. But as my husband and I soon discovered, unless you've made a plan, legal protections for homeowners are close to nonexistent.
When our family bought our 130-year-old property in Northern Michigan in September 2020, we thought we'd be moving in by June 2021. We hoped to use the small cottage as a summer getaway and rent it out for the remainder of the year. We planned to gut it, improve the plumbing, electrics, foundation, and windows, and update the bathrooms and kitchen — a project that several contractors told us should take a year, give or take. Things started out well, but by fall 2021, it became apparent that our contractor had no intention of adhering to the agreed-upon timeline. Our descent into renovation purgatory had begun.
Initial delays were blamed on supply-chain shortages, and while those certainly affected the timeline, we later realized our contractor had misled us about when he ordered supplies and ignored our project for months at a time. The delays were the first of many red flags, yet with a home now ripped down to the studs and few alternative options in the cottage's small Michigan town, we felt powerless to change course.
We initially thought our cottage renovation would last a year.
Christine Chitnis
As the years passed, the budget tripled, we drained all our savings to make payments, and the planned timeline became a distant memory. We felt like the proverbial frogs in the pot of boiling water. Every time our contractor turned up the temperature, we grimly adjusted to the reality of our demise.
We finally demanded to move in during spring 2023. But shortly before, our contractor abruptly requested full payment on all work completed to that date. He threatened to withhold the certificate of occupancy, which is issued by the local government to the building-permit holder and indicates the building is up to code and all the work outlined in the building permit is done, unless we complied. Knowing the cardinal rule of home renovation — never pay in full until the job is over and inspected — we grew suspicious.
My husband and a contractor friend immediately flew in to assess the situation and were horrified by what they found: a botched paint job, improperly installed doors, leaky windows, shoddily installed flashing, and exposed pipes sticking out of the front yard. That's not to mention a long punch list left that included installing storm doors and exterior landings, repairing damaged siding, and covering exposed pipes. Worst of all was the shower that transformed our bathroom into a miniature swimming pool.
It seemed like a slam-dunk case: We paid for a service that wasn't finished.
We refused to pay, and after requesting complete documentation and accounting of all the work, we noticed significant budget discrepancies, such as gaps between what a subcontractor had billed (for example, $11,000 for framing) and what our contractor said he paid them ($18,000). The paperwork included notarized "paid in full" lien waivers from our contractor and all the subcontractors — documents that said we had paid everything we owed.
So we sought legal recourse, terminated the relationship, and ignored the outstanding balance. Surely, we thought, there must be consumer protections for people in our situation. It seemed like a slam-dunk case: We paid for a service that wasn't finished. A year later, we learned just how few protections existed.
The court dismissed the notarized lien waiver as a mere mistake on the contractor's part. The mediator offered trivial solutions to significant problems — "Take a crowbar, rip out the tile, and relevel the bathroom, no big deal. It's a weekend project," he said, as if we hadn't just paid tens of thousands of dollars for our contractor to do just that. The lack of sympathy from the court — and the fact it would cost us double what the contractor was asking for in legal fees to pursue further legal action — pushed us to settle. We paid the contractor the $32,000 he said he was owed, leaving us with an exorbitant legal bill and no closure. While we were able to move in eventually, we remain trapped in a cycle of endless repairs, gathering quotes to rectify the mess left behind by our contractor's poor work.
We've learned the hard way that your protection as a consumer largely comes down to what you do before the work even starts. After talking with other homeowners, I discovered just how easy it was to get taken advantage of.
Amanda Jane Jones began renovating her Utah home in 2020 with a contractor who came highly recommended by neighbors. Everything went well for the first few months, but then work started to slow down, and subcontractors stopped showing up. Jones had been paying incrementally, which felt safe and responsible. But then her young family's rental home went up for sale, and they had to move out. Desperate to move into the home she owned, Jones wrote her contractor a check for $190,000, which he said was needed to meet their move-in deadline. Then he disappeared. One by one, the subcontractors, who had finished their work months prior and had supposedly been paid by the contractor, began showing up at her door requesting payment.
David Jensen, a New Jersey attorney at the firm Greenberg Traurig, told me the first thing you can do to protect yourself is get reliable referrals for a contractor and check that they're licensed and registered as a business. But for Jones, reliable referrals weren't enough.
Your protection as a consumer largely comes down to what you do before the work even starts.
"Once we hired a lawyer and they conducted a background check, it turned out our contractor had gone bankrupt several other times," Jones said. "Each time, he created a new company name with only a slight variation of the first. He'd been to court multiple times, but his license was never taken away."
She recommended homeowners hire a lawyer to run a full background check for insurance coverage, complaint history, and litigation records. "He stole over $200,000 from us," Jones said. "We would have been fine if we hadn't written him that last check, but we fell for his trap." Her family was able to move in, but four years on, the house still isn't complete. Because the contractor already had liens against his assets from previous bankruptcies, their lawyer advised against pursuing legal action — there was nothing they stood to gain.
Jensen, whose practice is focused on construction-contract negotiation, also cautioned against paying in advance, especially without understanding how those funds would be used. "Many residential contractors want money up front in the form of a deposit, and they won't take the job if you don't put up money," he said. "Try your best to negotiate the deposit down and to get clarity about what it is to be used for."
He recommended requesting monthly accounting with detailed line items and progress lien waivers from the contractor and subcontractors. "Often contractors are telling you they need the money for your job, but they are using that capital to finish the job before yours," Jensen said. Accounting for every penny spent is a pain, but knowing where your money is going will save you a lot of pain down the road.
That's exactly what Lisa DiAntonio, a homeowner in Andover, Massachusetts, did. Despite completing several home-improvement and renovation projects with her husband over the years, she lacked the confidence to DIY the renovation of her newly purchased 6,500-square-foot home. Their contractor quoted about $1.8 million for the renovation, with $35,000 for demolition. She put down a 10% deposit of $180,000, and the work began in January 2022. DiAntonio noticed that the demo crew would show up for a few days, and then disappear for weeks. Progress seemed slow, and while she was supposed to receive a monthly bill with accounting, nothing arrived for the first several months, despite persistent follow-ups.
In the wild west of home renovations, it's every homeowner for themself.
"April rolls around, and he hands us a bill for $185,000," DiAntonio said. But according to what had been quoted, only about $90,000 worth of work had been done; the demo alone had been billed at three times the amount quoted. "In our contract, any time something was different than the quote, we were supposed to be alerted," she said. But there had been no warning that the demo was going over budget. Seeing the red flags, she immediately fired him. Because he hadn't followed the contract, they were able to make a clean break and have someone else finish the job. When DiAntonio went to transfer the building permit to her name, she discovered that her contractor had failed to obtain a demo permit.
Ultimately, a homeowner's best protection is a good contract — something we fell short on. Our contract, a mere one-page document drafted by our contractor, provided minimal safeguards and left us with scant legal recourse. If we did it again, we would include rules for how to handle changes to the project, penalty fees for missed deadlines, and clear costs for each job, including labor and supplies. (We discovered our contractor had outsourced much of the work we had paid for him to do himself, effectively double charging us the contractor fee).
Jensen recommended starting with standardized contracts from organizations such as the American Institute of Architects and customizing them to fit your needs. He encouraged including what's called a "right to terminate for convenience" clause, which allows the homeowner to fire their contractor at any time without cause. "At the end of the day, you are at the mercy of your contractor, but this clause is one of the most useful tools I have ever used," Jensen said. "It might not get you your money back or solve all your issues, but it gives you the power to move on from a bad situation."
The home-renovation world is a minefield. Each state has different regulations, legal recourse is slim, and competition for contractors is fierce. The best defense is vigilance — do your research, scrutinize, and demand accountability. In the wild west of home renovations, it's every homeowner for themself.
Christine Chitnis is a photographer, journalist, and author who has written for Condé Nast Traveler, Elle, Vogue, The New York Times, and Travel + Leisure.
Cassindy Chao (pictured above) says she chose family over money and she's richer because of it.
Courtesy of Cassindy Chao
Cassindy Chao, 55, is a former finance executive turned matchmaker.
After six years at Goldman Sachs, Chao decided to quit her job to take care of her ill mother.
She said the decision allowed her to spend time with family, marry, and have children.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Cassindy Chao, a 55–year-old matchmaker from Oakland, California, about quitting her dream job as a finance executive. It's been edited for length and clarity.
I'm a 55-year-old matchmaker who used to live the "Crazy Rich Asians" lifestyle, working in finance.
I went into that line of work because I knew it was lucrative and felt like a responsible choice. After graduating from Wellesley College, majoring in Chinese studies and economics, I worked at a couple of finance jobs before being poached by Goldman Sachs in Hong Kong.
At Goldman Sachs, I made over $376,000 annually. I was on top of the world, traveling and buying myself jewelry and designer clothes. It was a very luxurious lifestyle. My co-workers and I would fly to Thailand, Japan, or Vietnam on weekends. I was in the center of it all.
Years after starting the new job in 1993, my mom got sick with ovarian cancer, and it was devastating. I quit Goldman Sachs in 1999 and moved back home to the Bay Area, where I became lonely and incredibly sad.
It was tough, at first, but now I can say leaving my dream job was all worth it.
I went from international jet setter to a stay-at-home caregiver
When my mom got sick, I tried to fly back and forth from Hong Kong to the Bay Area to care for her, but it was unmanageable. After about three months of traveling back and forth, I quit Goldman Sachs. It was awful. I went from an international jet setter with a beautiful showpiece duplex apartment and maid to living in an old four-bedroom home.
Instead of jewelry and expensive dinners, my days were filled with brewing tea and soup for my mom and driving her to doctor's appointments.
Over time, I watched people who worked below me at the company do incredibly well. I visited friends with many Hermès bags in their closets. They'd call me and chat about their far-flung excursions and show off their homes filled with priceless art. I initially felt sorry for myself, watching them lead my formerly fabulous life.
It was hard to come to terms with my new reality
I wanted to balance both careers, but being my mom's caregiver was practically a full-time effort — chemo, blood tests, tumor assays, finding alternative medicines, getting second opinions, driving, managing her records, bill payments, and insurance negotiations. I didn't want to hire a caretaker for my mom.
All of a sudden I had to budget and save money. But over time, I felt bad for feeling sorry for myself and realized the simple things are what truly matter.
I loved my family and the priceless time I got to spend with my mother. At Goldman, it was frenetic — deals, reports, deadlines, meetings, conferences, presentations. Back in the States, there was still plenty to do, but life slowed down significantly, and I could actually relax.
My mom said I'd never get married and have a family if I stayed at Goldman Sachs
Before quitting, I worked crazy hours, traveled constantly, and chased after Ivy League banker men out of my league. I ignored my mom's advice, as I enjoyed my life.
I was dating several other finance guys when I met my now-husband Fred, an engineer, at a party in Hong Kong. He seemed friendly and happy but wore a Jackie Chan T-shirt, shorts, and Teva sandals. My first thought was, "Oh, yuck."
We instantly clicked, but I saw him more as a friend.
However, during the first year of caring for my mom, Fred showed up where the other men didn't. He was solid and always there, making me realize he was a real keeper. When I decided to move back to the US permanently, Fred packed up all my stuff and brought it back for me. We started dating seriously, and he grew to have a tremendous bond with my mom. That same year he proposed, we married, and he moved to California to be with me.
He's a goofy engineer, not a slick, rich finance guy, different from the other men I dated. If I stayed in Hong Kong, I would probably have chased after unavailable men for years. Instead, we've been happily married for over 20 years.
Was it worth it to leave Goldman Sachs?
Now, I can say yes. My mom lived for 10 years as an end-stage ovarian/liver cancer survivor before passing. I mourned her and my former high-flying life when she died, but she taught me how to thrive in any situation.
My mom's ability to make the best of any situation inspired me. She made friends with her medical team, buying gifts and knitting hats. During chemo, she would say, "I'm going to be out of it for 14 days, but afterward, let's schedule seven days of fun." We'd spend days exploring the city, eating delicious treats, and socializing with friends.
Chao with her mother Cecilia and her first grandchild.
Courtesy of Cassindy Chao
I'm not rich, but I'm wealthy in happiness. I have a great marriage and three terrific kids who are now young adults. Although not everyone wants marriage and kids, I'd always assumed I'd have it.
Now that I'm older, I've found a new career I love as a matchmaker. It's not work; I love meeting so many interesting people all the time and nudging them to find someone super special.
I chose family over money, and I'm richer because of it.
If you quit a six-figure dream job and want to share your story, email Manseen Logan at mlogan@businessinsider.com.
Ayan Said moved to the US as a child and became a successful nurse and entrepreneur.
After experiencing a divorce and job loss in 2022, she faced a period of intense personal struggle.
She found support and connection on LinkedIn, and she's rebuilding her life with optimism.
My parents fled the war in Somalia in 1992 when I was 5 to start a new life in the US.
I grew up in poverty, but despite the challenges, I witnessed my parents' unwavering determination and resilience. Their example instilled in me a profound belief in the power of education and hard work.
While studying psychology during undergrad, my daughter was born prematurely due to Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Inspired by the NICU nurses who cared for her, I decided to pursue a career in nursing.
As I witnessed the challenges exacerbated by the effects of the pandemic, I decided to leave my job and pursue full-time entrepreneurship. A nursing colleague and I cofounded a healthcare startup in 2019. It was incredibly rewarding.
Then in 2022, I was tested in ways I never imagined. I lost my job, my home, and almost everything I owned along with deep formative relationships, my identity, and my entire sense of self.
At the height of my success, I lost it all
My marriage with my partner of 20 years, my high school sweetheart, was strained by various challenges that tested our resilience.
After going through marriage counseling, I gained strength and clarity and decided to file for divorce.
When we began the divorce process, I moved my daughter and myself to my mom's for support.
While my marriage was ending, I lost my job
During this challenging period, my startup was growing rapidly, and the weight of imposter syndrome, coupled with the stress of my personal life, took its toll on my work. After my divorce was finalized in September 2022, I was fired from the startup.
These major losses shook me to my core. I was filled with inadequacy, regret, and deep shame and felt like a complete failure.
There were days when even getting out of bed seemed impossible. I was exhausted and frequently woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat from nightmares.
This spiral made me feel helpless and unable to see a way forward for myself and my daughter. I lost all motivation to do anything — to eat, go outside, or face anyone. I withdrew from the world. I felt isolated and consumed by my thoughts, and all I could do was cry.
My darkest moment was when I was convinced my absence would benefit my loved ones. Terrified, I knew I had to change everything to break that cycle.
Taking small steps to heal changed my trajectory
At this turning point, I knew I couldn't do it alone anymore.
I leaned heavily on my loved ones for emotional support and started therapy. I made small, deliberate changes to regain my sense of self. I took long walks. I went to the gym. I baked. I journaled and listened to affirmations I wrote and recorded, on repeat, to quiet the loud, terrifying thoughts and to hear a different perspective.
It wasn't a perfect, linear journey. I knew I needed time and space to allow myself to grieve, and it was a slow and agonizing process.
Eventually, I let go of the idea that I had to feel completely whole in an unreasonable timeframe. That was when things truly aligned and the subtle, incremental changes stacked.
I lost everything, but I gained even more in the end
I don't know if I'm completely healed but I'm not in that dark place anymore. I'm still living at home with my mom and slowly rebuilding a life for my daughter and me.
I've applied to a few part-time nursing positions at hospitals near me so I can still focus on my daughter. I've also started brainstorming an idea for a video podcast discussing nursing, entrepreneurship, burnout, mental health, therapy, and self-care.
I'm enjoying the little things again, like playing with makeup with my daughter. I've perfected my Snickerdoodle recipe and reconnected with my faith. I'm navigating single parenthood better. I finally feel like myself again, but I'm deeply, fundamentally changed — in a good way.
Sharing my story helped me connect with others and build a supportive community
I first shared my story on LinkedIn. It was uncomfortable being vulnerable, but I knew I had to share it because the discomfort I felt before clicking the 'post' button paled in comparison to the potential positive impact it could have on someone.
Shortly after, responses flooded in. The most beautiful, unexpected outcome was that my story allowed me to connect with people worldwide.
If you're feeling lost and alone, please ask for help and push through because it does get better. After the darkness, the dawn comes.
Sara Bustillo de Castro found she was healthier and happier living in Madrid
Courtesy of Sara Bustillo de Castro
Sara Bustillo de Castro, a VP and mom-of-two, spent two years living in Cambridge, UK.
She said she decided to move to Madrid for better childcare and because she found the UK lonely.
Bustillo de Castro said childcare is more affordable in Spain and people were more friendly.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sara Bustillo de Castro, a VP based in Madrid. Business Insider has verified her employment at a global consultancy firm. The following has been edited for length and clarity.
I moved with my family to Spain, where I'm from, after living in the UK for two years. I'm much happier and healthier than I was, and I can see us here for the next 10 years.
I had my first child in Paris in 2020. My husband and I were both working full-time and far from both our families, which was difficult. I worked for a global consultancy company. We had a full-time childminder. They would take care of our daughter in their home, with several other children, from when our daughter was five months old.
In France, childcare at a childminder's home is regulated by the state and subsidized based on income. Some parents can pay as little as 300 euros, which is around $320, a month for one child. Our income was at the higher end, so we paid full price, which was 800 euros, about $860, a month.
It was flexible, and the childminder would also take care of our daughter if she fell ill.
Childcare in the UK was expensive and hard to access
When my daughter was 18 months old, in August 2021, our family moved to Cambridge for my husband's job. I was able to transfer my job at a consultancy firm to the London office and work hybrid.
Childcare was completely different in the UK from France. Even getting a spot in the nursery was difficult. There was only one nursery place available in the city. It was in the north, and we lived in the south. It was a 45-minute drive each way.
I had my second child in April 2022. Both my children were in the same nursery. Full-time nursery care a month per child cost £1,400, which is about $1,700.
Both my husband and I had demanding jobs, and we didn't have any childcare support apart from nursery. It was extremely hard.
The system made it hard to manage childcare and work
When our children were ill, they were sent home for two days under the nursery policy. Sometimes, they'd need to see a doctor before they were allowed to go back to the nursery. It can be difficult to get doctor's appointments quickly in the UK. That made things complicated for us as working parents.
One day, in November 2021, when our daughter was ill, I had to cancel my meetings for a consulting project I was project managing to take her to get a COVID-19 test. These consultancy projects are time-sensitive, and I was under pressure. For three days, I looked after our daughter in the morning, and my husband looked after her in the afternoon so I could go back to work. It was very stressful.
Something like that would happen every two or three weeks. I'd be on work calls and hear one of the children crying in the background. I felt like I wasn't working well, and I wasn't parenting well, either.
The nursery would sometimes turn parents away at the door
Sometimes, there weren't enough nursery employees to look after all the children. The nursery employees would send a message to parents in the morning saying they could only take five children that day, for example.
There'd be a line of parents waiting outside the nursery, and after the available places were filled, the parents at the end of the line would have to take their children home.
It was pretty harsh.
We decided to move to Spain
I liked the UK's entrepreneurial spirit and food, but we weren't happy.
Not only was the childcare expensive, but it was also a very individualistic place, and I felt isolated. We asked our neighbors in Cambridge if they wanted to have dinner, and though they said yes several times, it never happened. In Spain, when you say you'll go for dinner, you set the date. Something like that seemed to happen in every single relationship that we had with British people.
We moved to Madrid in August 2023. Childcare was a big factor, but we also wanted to be near my family and have more of a support network.
My firm wouldn't let me transfer from London to Madrid, so I took voluntary redundancy. My biggest fear was that job opportunities would be more limited in Madrid, but I started a new job as a VP for an aviation company in April. I'm now earning more than I was in the UK.
People here seem healthier, and healthcare is easier to access.
The quality of childcare is better and cheaper
My youngest child is still in nursery, which is a 10-minute walk from our home, and very flexible.
People are warmer and more caring toward children than they were in the UK, though maybe it's just expressed differently.
If my son is a little ill, the nursery workers don't send him home immediately. Instead, they look after him. It feels like I'm leaving him with a family member — like a delegated maternal figure. I never felt like that in the UK.
It's 540 euros, which is about $580, a month for a full-time nursery for one child.
We have home help too
My husband and I were worried about who would look after our daughter, who is at school if she fell ill. We hired someone to work at home, which wouldn't have been affordable in the UK. They manage cleaning, shopping, and childcare when needed. The help costs us 1,750 euros a month for 40 hours a week.
They make things much easier — I realize we're very privileged.
It's nice being near family, too. They don't help out that much with the childcare but it's good for the heart.
Black content creators may be most affected if TikTok is banned in the US (stock photo).
Hector Pertuz/Getty Images
A bill passed last week that could lead to a TikTok ban unless ByteDance sells it to a US company.
Black creators, who were instrumental in the platform's growth, could be significantly affected.
Their feelings are complicated, though, due to tensions with equal pay and credit on the platform.
Black content creators were monumental in helping make TikTok into what it is today, but now they might be some of the most affected if the platform is banned in the US.
The US Senate passed a bill last week that could mean TikTok is removed from app stores in nine months unless its parent company, Bytedance, sells it to a US corporation.
Soon after, President Joe Biden signed it into law, meaning the clock is now ticking for ByteDance to give up its US TikTok assets or face a nationwide ban.
Black creators who spoke with Business Insider said they feel they will be particularly affected if the ban goes ahead despite playing such a huge part in helping TikTok become what it is today.
But largely, TikTok is a place Black creators found where they could thrive and reach new audiences and customers for their growing businesses.
Overall, a TikTok ban would be "devastating" to Black creators, Tenyse Williams, the CEO and founder of Verified Consulting and an adjunct instructor at the University of Central Florida, Columbia University, and George Washington University, told BI.
"They have worked hard to build their followers and businesses on this platform, and losing it would mean starting over from scratch," she said. "It's not just a matter of losing a platform, but also rebuilding their digital homes and communities."
The democratization of influencing
Funmi Ford, a creator with 242,000 followers, told BI she saw many Black creators grow on TikTok when it boomed during the start of the pandemic.
"I remember that phrase, 'the democratization of influencing,' because, on Instagram, there weren't a lot of Black creators that had even hit a million followers," Ford said. "They got on TikTok, these same creators, with these same ideas and the same passion, and all of a sudden they're hitting millions of views, a million plus followers."
It wasn't that the content wasn't good, Ford said, it was that Instagram "just wasn't a place for Black creators, minority creators, to excel." On TikTok, in comparison, they "grew like crazy," she said.
Now, 19% of TikTok users in the US are Black, according to a 2023 survey by Pew Research Center, which is higher than the group's representation in the adult population (12%). In the same report, while 10% of white teens said they used TikTok almost constantly, 20% of Black teens did.
Nya Étienne, a creator and journalist, told BI she turned to TikTok when she didn't feel heard in the traditional media space.
There, she was able to express herself and find her audience, she said. Rebuilding her 26,000 followers elsewhere, she said, would be a challenge.
"With the looming TikTok ban, I've been trying to convert to Instagram, and it's going OK, but it's nothing like what I have on TikTok," Étienne said. "TikTok is such a unique space for us, and it's sad that it could be taken away."
Black-owned businesses thrive with TikTok
An Oxford Economics report published in March found that 57% of small and medium Black-owned business owners said TikTok is "critical to their business's existence," with 83% saying they had seen their sales increase after promoting their products there.
Ford said TikTok is full of mom and pop shops that have been "struggling for years" that finally found a new audience and are now thriving. There are also popular influencers, such as Keith Lee, who highlight Black-owned small businesses and restaurants.
Black creators were also instrumental in pushing momentum on TikTok from a dance app to one full of conversations, entrepreneurialism, and personal stories, Ford said.
"Black creators just did a lot to help the app be what it is," she said.
Kahlil Dumas, a TikTok creator with 29,000 followers who is the founder of Free the CEO and the host of the podcast "UNSTUCKKD," told BI that if TikTok disappears, Black creators "risk losing the communities they've built."
"They would need to cultivate communities on other platforms while trying to transfer their TikTok community," he said.
It may not be easy to regrow their followings elsewhere, Dumas added, which could lead to fewer brand deals, less ad revenue, and less income overall.
A complicated relationship
Black creators have a somewhat strained relationship with TikTok. Though the app has made efforts to promote Black-owned businesses with movements such as #BlackBusinessMonth and #SupportBlack in the past few years, Black creators have expressed frustrations with censorship and inequality on the platform.
Some Black creators suspected their Black Lives Matter content was suppressed in 2020 after George Floyd's death ignited a wave of protests.
Black TikTokers have also expressed an "undertone of anti-Blackness" in the platform's algorithm, where white creators benefited from the trends started by Black creators.
In February 2020, for example, The New York Times reported that the mega-popular "Renegade" dance on TikTok had been created by Jalaiah Harmon, a Black teenager from Atlanta, but everyone on the app seemed to attribute it to white TikTokers like Charli D'Amelio. White creators were also invited onto talk shows to demonstrate dances that Black TikTokers came up with.
A TikTok spokesperson told BI at the time that Black creators are "a critical and vibrant part" of the experience on the app. "We care deeply about the experience of Black creators on our platform and we continue to work every day to create a supportive environment for our community while also instilling a culture where honoring and crediting creators for their creative contributions is the norm," they said.
Studies have also shown Black creators make less money than their white counterparts, and it has taken longer for prominent Black creators (including Khaby Lame, the biggest creator on the platform with 162 million followers) to feature on Forbes' list of top-earning talent.
This is disheartening, Black creators told BI, because so many top trends and ideas come from their community.
Williams told BI TikTok's vibrancy and inclusivity of so many different cultures is thanks to the "exceptional ingenuity, authenticity, and trend-setting capacities of Black creators."
"They are pioneers in carving the platform's soul and are the driving force behind its success," she said. "In essence, they are the beat to TikTok's heart."
Étienne told BI that ever since the beginning of TikTok, Black creators "have done copious amounts of hidden labor," whether it's creating dances, promoting music, or seeing African-American Vernacular English (AAVE) transform into "internet slang."
"Seeing our labor either go unseen or become monetized for other creators is, of course, frustrating," she said. "The barriers of entry to being a successful influencer are so much higher as a Black creator, which is sadly a truth that we have to face online and in real life."
It's discouraging for full-time creators to see their work "underrepresented and under-recognized," Étienne added, which is why some are considering subscription-based platforms such as Substack and Patreon or moving to YouTube, where monetization through AdSense can be more lucrative than TikTok.
"That ownership is very important," Étienne said. "Especially when platforms can come and go."
Imani Bashir, who has nearly 100,000 followers, agreed that feelings about a potential TikTok ban are complicated. Black creators just don't get the same rewards from the app as their white peers, which makes it harder to want to fight for it, she said.
For example, Bashir has applied for certification multiple times and fits all the criteria but has been repeatedly denied.
"We're still, to this day, being suppressed and being stifled in our content," she said. "We want to reap the same benefits as other content creators."
Bashir estimates up to 70% of her current followers wouldn't move to Instagram or another platform if TikTok is banned, so despite its faults, she wants it to stay.
"We love this app, we want this app, but the love isn't reciprocated," Bashir said.
Those in charge should remember, "We are traditionally the ones that organize," Bashir said. "We are the ones who will fight for it."
Trump is currently facing his first criminal trial in a Manhattan court, where he's been accused of falsifying business records to cover up a sexual affair with the porn star Stormy Daniels.
Todd Blanche, an ex-federal prosecutor turned white-collar defense lawyer, is currently representing Trump as his lead lawyer. Trump had once praised Blanche, saying that he was an intelligent and good lawyer, The Times said in a report on April 4.
But Blanche, it seems, might no longer be in Trump's good graces.
It's been just over two weeks since the trial started on April 15 and Trump has begun grousing about Blanche's performance. The former president has criticized Blanche for being insufficiently aggressive to the trial's judge, jury and witnesses, The Times reported on Tuesday, citing four people familiar with the matter.
Alina Habba, a legal spokesperson for Trump told The Times that Blanche is a "crucial part" of the team. Blanche declined comment when approached by The Times.
"Anonymous comments from people who aren't in the room are just that — anonymous comments from people who aren't in the room," Jason Miller, a senior adviser to the Trump campaign, said in a statement to BI. "I would be highly skeptical of any gossip or hearsay surrounding this case."
One factor that might avert a regional war is the dismal state of Iran's economy.
The country has borne the brunt of Western sanctions for decades, making it tough for Tehran to finance any war effort — and that could be a warning sign for Vladimir Putin as the war in Ukraine drags on.
In 2018, Donald Trump decided to pull out of a nuclear agreement between the US and Iran. The then-president said he would put "maximum economic pressure" on Iran, setting the stage for sanctions packages that have pummelled the Iranian economy.
Most countries that buy Iranian oil are banned from trading with the US. Iran is the world's seventh-largest oil producer, according to data from the US Energy Information Administration, so the restrictions have chipped away at a major engine for growth.
Iran's economy fell into a deep, two-year recession shortly after sanctions were reinstated, although economic growth has rebounded into positive territory since then. According to World Bank projections, Iran's economy is expected to have expanded by 4.2% last year.
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Rising inflation and mounting debt
Despite that recent rise in GDP, other issues are plaguing Iran's economy.
Sanctions and a tumbling currency, the rial, have pushed inflation close to 50% at times in recent years, with food disproportionately affected. The cost of lentils has soared 130% since the start of this year, IranWire reported, while beans are up 30%, and red meat prices have jumped 25% over the same period, per Iran International.
Even before those increases about half the population consumed less than the recommended 2,100 calories a day last year, according to the Iranian parliament's research center, IranWire reported.
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That cost-of-living crisis has also driven poverty rates higher. About 9.5 million Iranians fell into poverty in the 2010s, according to World Bank data, with over a quarter of citizens living on the equivalent of $6.85 a day or less back in 2017.
Stripped of key oil revenues, the government has resorted to borrowing, tripling its debt as a percentage of GDP ratio over the past 15 years. The higher deficit would make it much tougher to raise defense spending if tensions with Israel spiraled into a wider conflict.
Warning for Russia
Iran's struggles over the past decade could be a warning sign for Russia, sanctioned by the West since Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine in February 2022.
Russia's economy appears to have remained resilient, but forecasters warn that the outlook may worsen as the war with Ukraine drags on.
Moscow has struggled to contain a spike in basic foodstuffs this year, leading to Soviet-style queues at supermarkets. Think-tanks have warned that the Kremlin risks becoming reliant on China, North Korea, and even Iran for weapons because it's been cut off from foreign lenders.
If Iran's example is anything to go by, even tougher times may lie ahead.
An attorney for the workers said in the complaint that Google "retaliated against approximately 50 employees" by terminating them or putting them on administrative leave. Last month, Google said that it fired 28 employees for staging in-office protests in New York City and Sunnyvale, California.
Google's actions, the workers'attorney wrote, were "in response to their protected concert activity, namely, participation (or perceived participation) in a peaceful, non-disruptive protest that was directly and explicitly connected to their terms and conditions of work."
In a statement to Business Insider, a Google spokesperson said the behavior was "completely unacceptable."
"This is a very clear case of employees disrupting and occupying work spaces, and making other employees feel threatened and unsafe," the statement said. "We carefully confirmed and reconfirmed that every single person whose employment was terminated was directly and definitively involved in disruption inside our buildings."
Representatives for the NLRB didn't immediately respond to a request for comment from BI sent outside regular business hours.
Google said in an internal memo on April 17 that the protesters had taken over office spaces and defaced company property.
"Behavior like this has no place in our workplace and we will not tolerate it," the company wrote.
The workers had voiced their dissent against Project Nimbus, Google's $1.2 billion joint contract with Amazon to provide artificial intelligence and cloud computing services to Israel.
Protesters claimed that the contract — the details of which became public in 2021 — would allow the Israeli government to surveil and displace Palestinians.
But Google told BI last month that the company's work was not directed at highly sensitive or classified military projects relevant to weapons or intelligence services.
"We have been very clear that the Nimbus contract is for workloads running on our commercial cloud by Israeli government ministries, who agree to comply with our Terms of Service and Acceptable Use Policy," a spokesperson for Google told BI.
The ongoing dispute between Google and some of its employees highlights companies' tricky balance between their business interests and their workers' desire for self-expression.
In December, The Washington Post reported that around 1,700 Amazon employees had signed a petition against Project Nimbus.
Signatories argued that Amazon's cloud technology was going to be used by the Israelis to "repress Palestinian activists and impose a brutal siege on Gaza."
When asked about the petition, Amazon spokesperson Rob Munoz told The Post that the tech giant "is focused on making the benefits of our world-leading cloud technology available to all our customers, wherever they are located."
Slaven Vlasic via Getty Images; Jim Watson/AFP via Getty Images
Elon Musk and David Sacks hosted an elite dinner for billionaires that got political, Puck reported.
Musk has been flexing his political influence but has yet to endorse a presidential candidate.
In recent years, Musk has lambasted policies by Democratic politicians and endorsed Republicans.
Elon Musk, at an exclusive April dinner, commiserated with a group of billionaires about their distrust in Democratic politicians like Joe Biden, according to a new report by Puck.
The outlet reported that Musk and venture capitalist David Sacks hosted the private event at Sacks'$23 million estate in the Hollywood Hills. In attendance were Republican donor Peter Thiel, former Uber CEO Travis Kalanick, and investment banker Steven Mnuchin, who previously served as secretary of the treasury under Donald Trump.
According to Puck, the attendees were part of a "burgeoning anti-Biden brain trust, united by a shared sense of grievance," with the evening's conversation centered around fundraising to defeat Democratic politicians and Musk's concerns about America's migrant crisis.
While Musk has increasingly criticized Biden's policies publicly — especially regarding illegal immigration, which Musk said helped Biden win the presidency, per the Houston Chronicle — the CEO of Tesla and SpaceX hasn't officially endorsed any political candidate for the coming election.
A representative for financier Michael Milken confirmed to Business Insider that he attended a dinner hosted by Musk and Sacks earlier this month but noted his presence was not a political gesture. Any discussion of politics at the dinner, Milken's representative said, did not revolve around the endorsement of any particular party or candidate.
Milken, in 1990, pleaded guilty to six racketeering and securities fraud charges related to an insider trading scheme. He was released from prison after two years and was pardoned by then-President Donald Trump 30 years later, in 2020.
Representatives for Musk, Sacks, and other dinner attendees identified by Puck did not immediately respond to requests for comment from Business Insider.
While the dinner wasn't explicitly pro-Trump, Musk has, in recent weeks, told associates he plans to wade deeper into his growing role as a political influencer and is weighing whether to endorse Trump in this year's election or just make a public statement against Biden, Puck reported.
Though he is hardly a prolific donor as far as billionaires go, Musk's history of political contributions leans Republican. OpenSecrets noted that Musk donated $688,350 to federal candidates and party committees between 2004 and 2020, with 50.1% going to Republican causes. The top recipient of Musk's donations was the National Republican Congressional Committee, which received $246,800 from him since 2004, the campaign finance watchdog reported.
"In the past I voted Democrat, because they were (mostly) the kindness party," Musk wrote in a tweet in May 2022. He then bashed the Democratic Party, adding: "But they have become the party of division & hate, so I can no longer support them and will vote Republican."
In March, Musk met with Trump in Palm Beach, Florida, and said he was "leaning away" from Biden in an interview with former CNN anchor Don Lemon.
"While I'll voice my opinion, I think I don't want to put a thumb on the scale monetarily that is significant," Musk told Lemon about his political contributions. "I may, in the final stretch, endorse a candidate, but I don't know yet."