• The US Navy's carrier fleet is known for its impressive firepower and resilience in battle.
• The fleet's durability is attributed partly to the sacrifice of its predecessor, USS America.
• The Navy tried for weeks to sink the "Big A," eventually resorting to scuttle the ship onboard.

The US Navy's supercarrier fleet is famed for its offensive power, massive size, and versatility in battle.

US aircraft carriers led their strike groups to the front lines of global conflicts and are frequently used to intimidate US adversaries.

In June, Nimitz-class carrier USS Dwight D. Eisenhower left the Middle East after spending months fighting Iran-backed Houthi rebels in the Red Sea. Earlier this year, USS Gerald R. Ford returned to its homeport after the Pentagon sent the first-in-class supercarrier and its strike group to the coastal waters of Israel after the Hamas attacks on October 7, 2023.

The durability of America's current carrier fleet is due in part to the sacrifice of one of its predecessors: USS America.

The penultimate conventionally-powered aircraft carrier

USS America was initially ordered as one of the six nuclear-powered aircraft carriers in the Enterprise class. However, skyrocketing production costs forced the Navy to redesign the ship to use an older system of fuel-burning boilers that powered the steam turbine-driven propellors.

It was the second to last conventionally powered carrier, followed by USS John F. Kennedy before the Navy began building its nuclear-powered carrier fleet.

The America was one of three Kitty Hawk-class carriers, including the lead ship and USS Constellation. Its keel was laid down in January 1961 at the Newport News Shipbuilding in Virginia and was commissioned at the Norfolk Naval Shipyard four years later.

The $400 million carrier, fittingly nicknamed the "Big A," measures more than 1,000 feet long with a 4-acre flight deck that could accommodate up to 100 aircraft.

The America was first designated as an attack aircraft carrier and reclassified to an aircraft carrier in 1975 following a major overhaul the previous year.

Improving safety and efficiency

The expansive flight deck of the USS America introduced the feature of an angled flight deck, which increased the ship's efficiency by allowing aircraft to catapult off the bow while simultaneously landing other aircraft to land nearby.

The ship was also equipped with a Mirror Landing System, highly advanced control and landing technology consisting of mirrors and lights that safely guided pilots back onto the carrier's deck and reduced accidents.

The Big A in service

The America played a role in a number of key conflicts throughout history, frequently sailing in the Mediterranean and Atlantic Ocean.

It had three deployments to the Pacific during the Vietnam War. It set a record of no aircraft losses as crews dropped thousands of tons of ordnance over more than 10,000 sorties.

The carrier also served in the Persian Gulf War, launching airstrikes in Iraq and Kuwait during Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm.

In addition to serving during global conflicts, the USS America also delivered humanitarian aid and conducted evacuations during natural disasters and humanitarian crises.

Documenting life at sea

Jim Preston, a now-retired US Navy photojournalist, captured daily operations aboard the America in a piece for the Navy's "All Hands" magazine.

"It was unlike anything I had ever witnessed before or after over my photography career," Preston wrote in an essay. "Danger is everywhere, and you are constantly aware of it, given the noise of afterburners at full blast as the four catapults send aircraft off the bow and waist cats."

Deployed life

Preston focused his photography on life aboard the ship, showing sailors during the long deployments at sea and how they coped with being away from their families for months on end.

After Preston's article went to print, he said the spouse of a Navy sailor reached out to him, expressing tearful gratitude for helping her understand what her husband goes through on his deployments at sea.

Forced into retirement, then demolition

Through the Navy's Service Life Extension Program (SLEP), the Navy spent $785 million on extensive refitting and repair on USS Kitty Hawk and another $800 million on USS Constellation.

Unlike its sister ships, USS America never underwent a repair overhaul to modernize the ship and its equipment that would have extended its service life until 2010.

As global tensions and conflicts wound down following the Cold War, the US curbed its military spending, and budget cuts and shifting priorities forced it into retirement after more than three decades of service.

The ship decommissioned in August 1996 and spent years moored at the Naval Inactive Ships Facility in Philadelphia.

Nearly a decade after decommissioning, the America was later towed hundreds of miles off the coast of Virginia in 2005 for a classified Navy live-fire exercise.

The exercise, dubbed "SinkEx," was intended to test the carrier's capacity to withstand battle damage and improve the durability of future ship designs.

'One final and vital contribution to our national defense'

Some veterans who served aboard USS America were against seeing such an end for the storied carrier and pushed for its preservation as a museum.

But Adm. John Nathman, then-vice chief of naval operations, emphasized the importance of the America's "final and vital contribution to our national defense."

"I know America has a very special place in your hearts, not only for the name but also for your service aboard her," he said at the time. "I ask that you understand why we selected this ship for this one last crucial mission and make note of the critical nature of her final service."

Nathman, who is now retired, said the exercise would consist of a "variety of comprehensive tests above and below the waterline collecting data for use by naval architects and engineers in creating the nation's future carrier fleet."

"America's legacy will serve as a footprint in the design of future carriers — ships that will protect the sons, daughters, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of America veterans," he said.

Built to take a beating

But the job was easier said than done.

The flattop was hammered with explosions above and below the surface, the latter simulating attacks by torpedos in a real combat situation intended to break a ship's keel. The empty ship was also battered by missiles and bombs. The Navy observed the ship's destruction from afar as well as through monitoring systems installed throughout the carrier.

After four weeks of bombardment, the America still remained afloat.

It became clear that the ship wasn't going down by conventional methods, so the Navy had to scuttle the ship with charges placed onboard, opening holes in its double-layered hull for it to finally sink at 11:30 a.m. on May 14, 2005.

The Navy kept most of the findings of the SinkEx classified, and only two photos are known to be released of the historic moment.

The ship, still in one piece, sank nearly 17,000 feet below the surface of the Atlantic, somewhere between South Carolina and Bermuda. The exercise marked the first and only time a modern US carrier has been sunk.

The USS America (CV-66), a Kitty Hawk-class aircraft carrier, was scuttled in 2005 following a distinguished service career spanning over three decades. https://t.co/Oyed4Uk6SM

— National Interest (@TheNatlInterest) May 13, 2024

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Tough to kill, but not impossible

Although a supercarrier's massive size makes it an easy-to-spot target, the ship is surrounded by armed warships to protect it by whatever means necessary.

"You have to launch hundreds of weapons at the carrier strike group to even get a few of them through," Bryan Clark, a former US Navy officer and director of the Hudson Institute's Center for Defense Concepts and Technology, told Business Insider's Ryan Pickrell in 2019.

However, with enough firepower, the battle group could be overwhelmed, and while supercarriers are certainly tough to kill, it's not impossible.

"Given enough time and weapons, you can sink a carrier," Clark said. "But, if you have defenses, people doing damage control, and propulsion, the carrier can take damage and drive away to eventually come back."

• Lynne Hughes lost her mom at 9 and her dad at 11.
• Now, she runs a bereavement camp, serving hundreds of kids each year.
• She says kids don't process grief in the same way adults do.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lynne Hughes, founder and CEO of Comfort Zone Camp. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When I was 9, my three brothers and I were watching our parents play tennis near our Michigan home. It was nothing out of the ordinary until my mom pulled a muscle. She came hobbling off the court, and my dad offered to take her to the hospital, but she said it wasn't necessary. She called her doctor, who told her to ice and elevate her leg.

A few days later, I woke up to my dad calling my mom's name in the bedroom next to mine. She had died in her sleep from a blood clot. It almost never happens, but it happened in my family.

After that, my family life became chaotic. Instead of coming together in grief, it was every man and child for themselves. My dad was racked with guilt, so he turned to alcohol for comfort. He quickly remarried, but soon after that, he died from a massive heart attack.

My family fractured, but at summer camp I felt normal

That happened the day before I was set to start junior high. Despite being newly orphaned at 11, I went to school the next day. I didn't want to be known as the girl with no parents.

My siblings and I didn't support each other. Although we had all experienced the same thing, we pulled away and processed it differently. It felt like survival of the fittest.

One place where I could escape from my difficult home life was at summer camp. There, I existed in a bubble. I didn't need to think about the parents I'd lost or the stepmom I was now forced to live with. I could just be a kid.

I worked on my own grief and volunteered with others

Like lots of people who experience loss, I was stuck on the question of "why?" As a kid, I became convinced that my parents had died for a reason and that I was special. I knew I had to do something with my life because I felt this deep sense of purpose.

I met my husband at camp and started a normal-ish, happy life. I did a lot of work to process my own grief, and I worked in hospice to help others with theirs. I started volunteering for a group of motherless daughters after the book by the same name came out.

At one of our first events, there were about 45 women. One of them, Barbara, was in her 70s. She had been carrying her grief for 60 years and had never talked about it. The youngest woman that day was a 14-year-old who had just lost her mom.

I started to think: what if we could catch kids early in their grief process and give them coping tools so the ripples of their loss don't continue to shape their lives?

Kids don't process grief the way adults do

For years, I ruminated on the idea of a camp for bereaved kids. Then, finally, I was ready to do it. Comfort Zone Camp started in 1999 near my home in Virginia. Twenty-five years later, we operate in nine states and served more than 1,300 kids last year.

Kids don't sit with their grief the way adults do. They move close to it, then back away. They can go from crying one second to laughing and being silly almost instantly. They're able to compartmentalize.

So, that's the approach we take at camp. We do intense therapeutic work in healing circles but intersperse that with all the typical camp activities: ropes courses, bonfires, and sports. There's a lesson in all of it, though. After the ropes course we talk about grief obstacles and trusting people to help you through. During the bonfire, we have a somber moment when kids can burn notes to the loved ones they lost.

Lots of first-timers are worried that camp will be sad and heavy. We start with games and fun, and you can practically feel the relief. After that, kids are eager to share their stories of loss. They heal by sharing and by listening to others.

Silly but meaningful interactions go a long way

My favorite part of camp comes at the end: our closing memorial service. Funerals are often for adults, not kids. So, with this ceremony, we give kids the chance to memorialize their loved ones in a way that resonates with them. It's like a talent show, all done in honor of the person they lost.

The acts might be a child singing for their mom, who loved music, or tossing a football with their friend because dad loved to play.

Recently, one of my groups of 9- and 10-year-olds came up with a skit about "Grief-fil-A." It's better than Chick-fil-A, they said, because it's open even on Sundays. They acted out ordering grief, with a side of coping skills, like talking with a friend or journaling. The whole thing was so silly but meaningful — the exact recipe for helping kids process loss.

• Season 3 of "The Bear" premiered this week, giving fans a glimpse of life working at a restaurant.
• Business Insider analyzed wage data to see how Carmy, Sydney, and the staff would fare in the US economy.
• Since 2020, restaurant workers' wages have grown faster than inflation, but high housing costs are a burden.

Season 3 of "The Bear" premiered June 26, meaning fans finally got to devour new episodes of the viral kitchen drama.

The previous season followed chef Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto (played by Jeremy Allen White) and his crew transform their beloved family-owned restaurant — the Original Beef of Chicagoland — into a fine-dining restaurant, The Bear.

Ask a fan of "The Bear" if it's inspired their cooking and you'll likely hear, "Yes, chef."

How about a career change?

Now, that one's less certain — but as viewers watch Carmy and Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) cook up food for patrons, one question might arise: How much money does a chef and their staff actually make?

Those salaries will differ across establishments, locations, and times. But it's possible to get a general sense: Business Insider analyzed national and Chicago-area wage data for restaurant workers to gauge the average staff salaries if The Bear opened in 2023.

Overall, pay for leisure and hospitality workers — which includes restaurants — has outpaced other workers in recent years.

Restaurant staff's wages have grown 31.1% since January 2020, which is faster than the average 25.4% increase in wages for all private workers.

That growth is due to state-level minimum wage increases between 2019 and 2023 coinciding with a tight labor market, according to the nonprofit think tank Economic Policy Institute.

Overall inflation has risen roughly 21% since January 2020, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, meaning restaurant wages have also outpaced general price increases.

All things considered, though, staff at The Bear wouldn't necessarily be better off right now.

According to a new report by the Harvard Joint Center for Housing Studies, 48% of renters in Chicago feel cost-burdened — meaning they spend between 30% and 50% of their income on housing.

Chicago's suburbs are also the second most competitive rental market in the US.

But when it comes to basics, like the annual salary for staff at The Bear, that number depends on the job.

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto

As head chef at The Bear, Carmy is undoubtedly the mastermind behind the operation.

A chef or head cook in Chicago made an average annual salary of $68,620 in 2023, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

Carmy's supposed salary of $68,620 is more than the national average of $59,310 for chefs or head cooks and amounts to nearly $33 per hour. That puts him better off than the $28.51 national average for chefs.

In Chicago, the median household income is $75,900, according to Harvard's report.

Sydney Adamu

As sous-chef at The Bear, Sydney's salary is less clear.

If management paid her on par with Carmy, Sydney could expect to bring in $68,620 a year as a chef at a Chicago restaurant.

Another potential category Sydney fits into is supervisors of preparing and serving food — according to Chicago data, this role made an average of $44,690 in 2023.

Neil Fak

A restaurant can't run if the gas doesn't work.

The mechanic is an oft-overlooked, duly needed position for any establishment.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, Neil Fak (played by Matt Matheson, who is also an executive producer of the show) would have made $56,020 in 2023 as a general maintenance and repair worker in Chicago.

That's considerably more than the $35,440 national average salary for repair workers.

Natalie Berzatto

Managing a restaurant — a new one nonetheless — is no easy feat.

Food service managers in Chicago made an average of $68,770 in 2023, meaning Natalie (Abby Elliott) would earn just a little bit more than Carmy and Sydney.

That means Natalie is The Bear's highest earner, but her salary is a little bit less than the national average of $72,190.

Tina Marrero

As a cook at The Bear, Tina (Liza Colón-Zayas) would make $38,030 — that's the annual salary for a cook at a Chicago restaurant in 2023.

Tina's salary may have improved the most among staff due to The Beef becoming The Bear.

Fast food cooks in Chicago — like those at The Beef — made $30,790 in 2023.

That means Tina gained an extra $7,240 a year when she signed her new contract at The Bear.

Richard "Richie" Jerimovich

As a restaurant host, Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) could earn $31,900 per year in Chicago.

That translates to an average hourly wage of $15.34, which means Richie is The Bear's lowest-paid employee.

However, it's more than the national average for front-of-house hosts, which was $30,270 annually and $14.55 an hour in 2023.

Marcus Brooks

Marcus Brooks (Lionel Boyce) would make $36,610 working as a baker in Chicago in 2023.

That breaks down to an average hourly wage of $17.60.

Brooks would have made more than the national average for bakers, which was $35,760 annually and $17.19 per hour.

Has "The Bear" inspired you to switch careers and work in restaurants? If so, please contact this reporter at jtowfighi@businessinsider.com.

• Georgia's basic income pilot helped low-income Black women afford bills and pay down debt. 
• The program gave participants monthly cash payments — amounting to $20,400 over two years.
• Shamarra Woods, 31, said basic income helped her pay for rent and day care for her young daughter.

When Shamarra Woods first started receiving basic income, she was able to buy clothes, diapers, and formula for her newborn baby. As her daughter grew into a toddler, the no-strings cash payments helped Woods pay for day care.

Woods, 31, lives in Atlanta and is a single mom. She's also a participant in Georgia's guaranteed basic income pilot called In Her Hands. Launched in 2022 by nonprofits The Georgia Resilience and Opportunity Fund and GiveDirectly, the program gave 650 low-income Black women monthly payments for two years to spend as they choose. Funding came from foundations and philanthropic donors.

"Single mothers — and women out there trying to make it or get themselves in a better situation — they don't have the support they need," Woods told Business Insider. "This income helps with that."

Participants were based in communities across the state: Atlanta's Old Fourth Ward, College Park, as well as Clay, Randolph, and Terrell counties. The women were put into a lottery and randomly divided into two groups — Group A received $850 a month for 24 months, while Group B received $4,300 during the first month of the program, then $700 a month for the following 23 months. All eligible participants had an annual household income below 200% of the federal poverty line, which is $39,440 for a family of two.

Woods was in Group B. She said the lump sum helped her pay off outstanding bills, so she no longer has to weigh the risk of losing her electricity in order to buy groceries. Woods was also promoted at her job, an accomplishment she said was possible because she could afford steady childcare through the pilot program.

However, she's anxious about continuing to support herself without basic income — she received her final payment in May. Woods is hopeful she and her daughter can stay in Atlanta to build her career, instead of having to move back to her hometown in Mississippi.

"My hope is to figure something out where I can put us in a better situation and she can grow up living a better life than I did," she said.

Georgia's program is one of over 100 basic-income pilots that have been tried across the US. The no-strings cash typically offers low-income Americans $50 to $2,000 a month for a set period of time to help them pay for rent, food, healthcare, transportation, or other basic needs.

In May, The Georgia Resilience and Opportunity Fund — a nonprofit focused on racial equity and poverty solutions — released a report on the pilot's first-year impacts. Based on surveys and interviews, researchers compared participants with about 2,000 other low-income women in Georgia who were not selected to receive payments in the lottery but met the criteria for the program.

Compared to non-participants, women receiving basic income were more able to afford bills and pay down debt.

Georgia GBI participants felt more financially stable and housing secure

The goal of the Georgia pilot was to support Black women experiencing financial insecurity and experiment with basic income as an economic policy, per the one-year report.

From a financial standpoint, women receiving basic income were less likely than non-participants to skip phone and utility payments, overdraft their bank accounts, or be behind on credit card and loan payments.

And, with less cost pressure, participants were better able to access medical care — and less likely to experience mental health challenges like anxiety or depression.

Additionally, the number of participants experiencing home evictions and utility shut-offs in 2022 was lower than non-participants. Women receiving basic income were more housing stable, made on-time rent payments, and had access to healthy food.

What's more, participants were 60% more likely to be enrolled in higher education. Some participants said GBI allowed them to get degrees, management training certifications, or LLC licenses for their businesses.

Mothers enrolled in the pilot reported the ability to save for their children's education at a rate 13% higher than those outside the program. Many parents also spent some of their basic income on activities for their children, like summer camp or cheerleading dues.

To be sure, Georgia's program results reflect the short-term impacts of cash payments on participants. It's not yet clear if basic income will affect the participants' long-term housing or financial security now that payments have concluded, and not all economic experts or policymakers agree that GBI is a sustainable policy solution. The data is also based on participant's self-reported experiences.

The final In Her Hands report — with results from the second year of the program — will be available at the end of 2024.

As basic income faces opposition, Georgia plans to continue programs

Lawsuits and Republican-led bans are challenging basic income programs across the US, with some aimed at women of color.

A basic income program providing $1,000 a month to pregnant Black women in San Francisco was sued last year. In an effort to halt the program, a conservative public interest firm alleged that the city's use of public money for cash payments was unlawful because the pilot selected participants on a "racially exclusionary basis."

Still, The Georgia Resilience and Opportunity Fund and GiveDirectly plan to continue providing cash assistance to low-income women in Georgia.

In fact, a second phase of the In Her Hands program began in May. The additional pilot provides cash aid to about 270 Black women in Atlanta's English Avenue, Vine City, Bankhead, and Washington Park neighborhoods. Participants could choose between two basic income structures: either $1,000 a month for three years or $800 a month for three years with a lump sum payout of $8,000 at the time of the participant's choosing.

The Georgia Resilience and Opportunity Fund is also planning to launch a "baby bonds" pilot in early 2025, a six-year program that would give 250 babies in Georgia's Black communities a trust account of $40,000, and provide their families with $500 a month in basic income. Like a similar baby bond program in Connecticut, the pilot seeks to combat infant and childhood poverty.

Even with an uncertain future, Woods said Georgia's GBI pilot helped her learn how to manage finances for her family.

"I really wanted that for my daughter," Woods said. "I wanted to build a really good foundation — put her in good schools and really invest in her education. I still want that."

Have you benefited from a guaranteed basic income program? Are you open to sharing how you spent the money? If so, reach out to this reporter at allisonkelly@businessinsider.com.

• I asked other parents for advice about what to do when teenagers start dating. 
• As a mom of three teens, I wanted some help getting through this phase.
• I learned to set simple expectations and allow room for mistakes.

People give advice about a lot of things when you have kids: potty training, discipline, and even what they eat. All this gets us through until we enter the teen years. Then, parents are left in a no-man's land with only a few memes to survive. Somehow, we are supposed to know what to do when our kids start dating.

I had three kids in three and a half years, and now that they're all teens, we are in the thick of teen dating. Instead of simply gritting my teeth and white-knuckling my way through, I wanted to figure it out with a little more grace. To do so, I needed help, so I asked people further along in their parenting journey for help. The advice I got was priceless.

Start by loving the people your kids love

The idea of loving the people your kids love may sound obvious, especially with their friendships. It becomes even more important when your kids start dating. One of the best things you can do is to show interest in learning about the people your teens are dating.

Ask questions about what they're like and what they're interested in. But here's the secret to making it sound less like an interrogation: don't ask a bunch of questions at once, stay casual, and smile through it all.

One day, when I was struggling with my oldest daughter's first serious relationship, a friend told me, "Invite the boyfriend." She said it's that simple. Include your teen's partner in as much as you can. Welcome them for dinner. Bring them to the movie. Include them in family outings, and make them feel welcome and loved. Doing this shows your teen how much you love them and helps you get to know the person your teen is dating.

Be clear about expectations and keep them simple

There is no set of rules that works for every family, especially when it comes to dating. As I navigate this season, I'm learning to be as clear and loving about expectations as possible. The more I talk to my kids with respect and offer simple boundaries, the smoother things tend to go.

When my oldest started dating, I had no idea what to do. Instead of making a complex set of rules, I thought about what was most important to me — communication and respect — and focused on that. The rules themselves are simple: You go where you say you'll go, you're home when you say you'll be home. We talk about these things ahead of time and agree to them so both know what is expected.

Make room for mistakes

This was the piece of advice I was least prepared for. I thought it would be as simple as setting expectations that everyone would follow. The reality is, however, that we will all make mistakes — even parents.

When one of my kids lied about their plans, I was blindsided. My husband and I addressed it with them. Instead of the conversation going smoothly, tempers flared and I didn't handle it well. After we cooled off, I realized my reaction made the situation worse. I didn't sweep my behavior under the rug; instead, I apologized and reopened the conversation. It wasn't easy, but we worked things through.

Dating is not simply a time for kids to break away from their parents. Just like those younger years, it is an opportunity for parents to guide and model how to handle situations. When we make room for mistakes and show how to work through them, we teach our kids how to do the same. There will likely be some disagreements when your teens are dating, but with good communication, you can get to the other side together.

• As many younger Americans are turning away from college, millennials and Gen Xers are going back.
• Some told BI that going back to school will give them a shot at advancing their careers and wages.
• While student debt is still a factor, the benefits of college outweigh the costs for these adults.

It was never a good time for Laura Rodgers to go to college.

Now 40, Rodgers has been out of the workforce for 20 years raising her kids. She is ready to give herself another shot.

"I think there's a lot of self-consciousness that comes with going back to school as an older adult," Rodgers told Business Insider. She said she tries to remember that anyone who would judge her doesn't matter.

Last fall, she enrolled at a local community college as an English major. She's spending about $300 per semester for each in-person class, plus any additional course materials, which she can afford because of her husband's income.

The flexible schedule allows her to be there for her kids, run errands, and do chores during the day. It hasn't been easy going back to school at this point in her life, she said, and she's found it especially challenging as a stay-at-home to enforce the boundaries she needs to complete her schoolwork.

"It's kind of teaching my family, this is when I'm here, this is when I'm available, this is when I'm not, and even though I'm here, I need to study or do my homework," Rodgers said.

Rodgers is among a growing number of adults who are going back to college later in life. According to the National Center for Education Statistics, over one-third of undergraduates are 25 or older, and that proportion rises to nearly 44% for community colleges. Additionally, according to a recent paper from the National Bureau of Economic Research, about 70% of the increase in college completion between 1990 and 2010 can be attributed to the growing share of people getting degrees after their mid-twenties.

Rodgers, who said she'll likely appreciate college more now that she's older, is an example of the split in higher education sentiment across the generations: While younger Americans might not think they need a college degree to succeed in life, older adults continue to view it as a way to give themselves a second shot at advancing their careers, earning more money, and gaining more knowledge.

Pauline Corblet, an assistant professor of economics at New York University Abu Dhabi, told BI that she and her colleagues have several hypotheses about why people choose to go to school later in life. These include insufficient money to pay for college right out of high school and, "especially for women, family constraints."

"What happens when people have kids right after high school that would keep them from going to college? And then when the kids grow up, and they're, say, young teenagers, then it becomes possible to go to college," Corblet said.

While Rodgers said it could be "a little weird" being in a classroom full of students under 25, it's also helped her realize that she can bring something new to the classroom that she might not have been able to do had she continued with college right out of high school.

"When I was 18 and I had first gone in, I just wanted to get through the classes," Rodgers said. "Now, if I'm going to take the time and spend the money to go to this class, I really want to get something out of it. I feel like I try harder now that I'm older."

"When I get to the end of my life," she added, "I want to be able to say that I followed through on this thing that I wanted for myself."

'It was the best decision I made in my life'

Alexander Jones, 43, decided to go back to school when he was 30, and it helped him land a job in his desired field.

After graduating from high school, Jones briefly enrolled in some English courses at a university but dropped out, saying he didn't have a focused mindset at the time. He spent the next decade working various retail jobs that allowed him to pay rent and afford basic necessities. But he said the work wasn't personally or financially rewarding — so he set his sights on going back to school.

"I saw that I had no direction in life, I was utterly directionless. I haven't dealt with who I am or where I am in life," Jones told BI.

Jones completed a two-year certificate program in communications at a local college just over a decade ago. He said he was able to find a job right away at a media company. While he recognized he didn't have the best grades in his class, he used the program as a chance to network and meet people in the industry, which helped him secure employment.

"It was the best decision I made in my life," Jones said. "I feel a little bit more in control of even some of the stuff that's not really controllable."

Corblet said that oftentimes when people think about higher education, "we should take into account these late graduates because they have different returns" on their investments.

"It's important to know how these college graduates integrate into the labor market," she said, noting that later graduates might choose different jobs than their younger peers, which means they would have different types of contributions to their fields.

For example, had Jones chosen to stay enrolled in his English courses right out of high school, he might never have had the chance to pursue his skills in the media industry, which he didn't consider when he was younger.

"Going to school for three or four years is so short a time," Jones said. "So don't be afraid of coming into the ball game late because three or four years is enough time to change your life."

Still, going back to school isn't for everyone. Josh Becker, 32, told BI that he enrolled in college for one semester at age 20, but due to the student debt that accompanied his education, he dropped out and didn't consider going back. He's now looking for steady employment, but he doesn't regret his decision.

"I don't want someone to feel like they have to go to college to be successful because that sets them up for failure if they can't go to college or can't finish college," Becker said.

He's part of a growing trend of younger people choosing to skip a college degree. A recent report from Deloitte found that of 14,468 Gen Z and 8,373 millennials across 44 countries, a third of them chose to forego higher education primarily due to financial barriers and seeking jobs that don't require college degrees.

'You're not too old to start over'

Despite some Gen Zers seeing little value in higher education, overall sentiment toward a postsecondary degree or certificate is still high.

According to a recent report from Gallup and the Lumina Foundation on the state of higher education in 2024, "adults' interest in pursuing some form of higher education is at the highest level" the organizations ever recorded. Nearly all adults without a college degree said at least one type of credential was "extremely" or "very" valuable, and 59% of unenrolled adults considered enrolling in the past two years.

Matt, 37, is one of those adults.

After graduating from high school in 2005, Matt — who requested his last name be withheld for privacy — told BI that he didn't think college was the right fit for him, so he went straight into the workforce. Over the past 20 years, Matt has worked in the restaurant and retail industries, but he realized he wanted to give himself a shot and try something new.

He and his wife recently started applying to a local community college's general studies program. Should he be accepted, he said he's hopeful that as he begins his courses, he'll figure out what types of courses pull him in most to help him narrow down his focus.

"I learned over the last 20 years that this life that I thought that I knew was going to turn out a certain way didn't quite turn out anywhere near the way I had hoped it would," Matt said. With encouragement from his wife, they both decided that it was not too late to learn new skills and "carve out a better path for ourselves going forward.'"

Matt acknowledged that going back to school at this point in his life is scary, but after working for two decades, he has a new perspective on higher education that he couldn't see right out of high school.

"My wife, she's been texting me little affirmations of motivational things every other day," Matt said. "She sent this one to me the other day: You're not too old to start over. You're too old to keep doing something that's not working."

Did you go back to school past the age of 30? Did you decide to skip college? Reach out to this reporter at asheffey@businessinsider.com.

• Amid a widespread retirement crisis in the US, some boomers are entering their golden years flush with savings.
• They're benefiting from now-rare pensions, real estate value increases, and stock market gains.
• But lower-income households face challenges with retirement savings and dwindling pension plans.

If you're looking for Michael, 75, try looking to the sky.

The retiree has a unique retirement side gig: He's a corporate airplane pilot.

He dabbles just with contract gigs because he loves it; that's a common theme for Michael at this stage in life. He's living the retirement dream, and splitting his time between Florida and Denver. According to documentation that Business Insider reviewed, his net worth, after a career spent in the Navy and then working in geology, is just over $6 million.

"It's totally comfortable. We absolutely have all the money that we need to live our life," he said. And that nest egg has made a huge emotional difference: He has no financial stress.

It's a similar story for Connie, a 79-year-old who said she didn't really start retirement planning until she was in her 30s, newly divorced, and working a state government job in Oregon. After about 20 years in the public sector, she was able to retire with a nice pension — a type of benefit that's increasingly rare these days. Her Social Security checks were also bolstered when her former spouse's survivor benefits kicked in. In her retirement, she earns more than she did from her previous salary.

"It gives me great peace of mind," Connie said. It also fills her with some pride: Her research and frugality paid off.

"I definitely fall into that category of people who had just a totally ordinary career and never made big money, and yet now my retirement income is probably one and a half times what I ever made working," she said.

The three retirees Business Insider spoke with for this story are bright spots amid a retirement crisis in which over half of Americans 65 and older live on just $30,000 a year, and Social Security funds are expected to start depleting in 2035 without legislative intervention. All of their full names are known to BI, but their last names have been withheld over privacy concerns.

As the way we save for retirement has evolved, some people are now cashing in on the golden age for retirement savings — when benefits were more generous and investments in real estate and stocks boomed. While it's still possible to achieve, a fat retirement account has become rarer. And the retirees who are living that dream are grateful.

"Being in retirement and not having any financial stress and being able to help our kids and travel to go see them and stuff like that, it is just a fantastic place to be," Michael said.

The confluence of factors that led to flush retirement accounts

A stable retirement based on a lifetime of savings and smart decisions is possible — Michael and Connie are examples of that. But it's also a reality that's becoming increasingly rare, especially for lower-earning Americans.

The Government Accountability Office found in a 2023 report that lower-income households age 51 to 64 — those earning about a median of $19,100 — are increasingly less likely to have anything in a retirement account.

Back in 2007, per GAO's calculations of the Survey of Consumer Finances, around 21% of low-income households had a retirement account balance. By 2019, that had fallen to 10%. While losses weren't as profound for those in the middle-income quintile, their retirement account balances did fall slightly from 2007 to 2019. As GAO finds: "For all but the highest income group, there was no detectable difference between the median balances in 2019 and 2007."

The decline of one type of account, in particular, could be to blame. In recent decades, the US has shifted away from pensions, in which employers offer consistent payouts to former employees in their post-working years. Now, more American workers have defined contribution plans, like 401(k)s, which rely on workers to contribute funds to grow their coffers.

The share of low-income households with a defined benefit pension also fell by half from 2007 to 2019.

Michael acknowledges that some people have likely worked hard for their whole lives, but didn't have higher-paying jobs — meaning they were able to put away less.

"Retirement could have gone the other way for us. I could have made a few bad decisions and we could have lost a lot of money and it would've been a different scenario in terms of comfort," he said.

"We got fortunate with a few investments and it just took off and grew," Michael added.

The assets that today's retirees do have are also prospering; 401(k) investments have been bolstered by a soaring stock market, meaning that people cashing in on retirement investments right now are on the winning end of historic S&P 500 highs.

"If we look at someone who had a 401(k) fairly early on, so between roughly 1982 and 2002, we had stock market returns that went fairly high," David John, senior strategic policy advisor at the AARP, told BI. He added: "They managed to build retirement savings at a time where there was both stock market returns but also fairly low inflation."

Connie opted for a variable account to fund her pension — her employers' contributions went into investments, rather than promising a fixed return each year. While her account lost money some years due to the market, overall, her earnings have still outpaced what she would've had with a simply fixed amount.

"There are a lot less pensions out there these days. That's true," Connie said.

And for the current group of retirees with those perks, another thing might be boosting their bottom lines: Boomers are holding onto immensely valuable real estate. Thirty years ago, when today's retirees may have started buying real estate, homes were selling for a median of around $130,000. Today, they're going for nearly $300,000 more.

Today's retirees also still have full Social Security benefits, something that's increasingly imperiled for the next generation of workers who are throwing in the towel. All of that comes as retirement savings become more of an individual onus.

"Essentially, the people who need it the most are the ones who are least likely to have a retirement savings plan or a pension," John said.

Some have still been able to achieve this stability, but it's more of an uphill battle

Valerie, 46, is one of the Gen Xers trying to follow in the footsteps of prospering boomers. Valerie, who's based in Seattle, has already retired. According to documentation viewed by BI, she has over a million in her 401(k), but it's been hard-fought. Valerie — a former retail worker — tried to invest in real estate, but ended up on the other end of a hard market: Her properties went into foreclosure during the mortgage crisis, she said, and she "barely had 20 bucks to survive."

"I kept thinking of all these other ideas, well, how do I build wealth again? Do I just give up? Is this the end of my life?" she said. For Valerie, the answer ended up hinging on her 401(k) — she said she'd borrow against it to invest back into the market, and then repay those loans. Now that she has a retirement plan secured, she's more willing to take risks to build more wealth.

"When I was 18 to 19 years old, I remember predicting I'd be where I'm at financially in my retirement account if I didn't touch it and didn't bother it. And sure enough, the calculations are right," she said.

Valerie is one data point showing that it's also not all bad news for future retirees, but instead, perhaps more of an uphill battle.

"We have an economy that is changing rapidly and there are going to be opportunities for investment growth and savings and new products. I mean, there's an amazing amount of innovation going on there," John said. There is a chance it won't be as easy as it was for someone "who started investing say in the 1980s or the 1990s and are now reaching the end of their careers," he said.

"But yes, going forward, it's still possible."

Are you doing well in retirement, or worried you won't be able to retire? Contact this reporter at jkaplan@businessinsider.com.

• I've moved countless times across the States throughout my adult life.
• As a writer, I thought the concept of home was abrasive to my creative practice. 
• I moved to New York with my sister, and everything changed. 

I grew up in Connecticut in a cloistered home environment that didn't always feel safe. To get away, my sister and I would drive around our rural town and the surrounding towns, listening to music and trying to find the longest routes home.

We didn't have a direction or purpose behind the drives, and our car was rickety and unreliable, but it felt good. It felt different — it wasn't home. But the high ended as soon as we rounded the corner to our house.

I was constantly moving

After I finally moved out, I didn't stop moving. I lived everywhere from Ohio, to Massachusetts, to Maine, to Colorado, to California, to Oregon. No matter where I was, I never settled. I didn't accumulate things because I was always thinking about leaving. I always wanted the option to get up and get out. In most places I lived, I slept on the floor, on a piece of foam, on coaches, and sometimes in my car in parking garages between shifts.

I used candles instead of lamps because I didn't own any. I hung postcards in my bedroom using earring studs, because I didn't own any artwork. I left my books and clothes in piles because I didn't have shelves or a dresser.

I worked in cafés, restaurants, and bars, and I'd take silverware, napkins, and food from the places I worked. I also took toilet paper from the public library and downloaded borrowed CDs onto my computer for music. I had enough for rent, but I couldn't save. Still, I was making choices. I didn't believe that life was linear and that structure meant home. I didn't feel unstable; I knew what I was doing, and I was creative about it.

During my childhood and early adulthood, my home life was caging. It was an often unfriendly and hostile environment that robbed me of independence and free thought.

Eventually, I moved to New York with my sister

As a writer, I've always wanted to live as bravely as I want to write. Consigning myself to conventional notions of home and family felt antithetical to courage. As Rachel Cusk writes in "Outline," good writing comes out of "tension between what's inside and what's outside." I worried that if I created a life that was calm and predictable, I'd lack the tension that fueled creativity.

In 2020, the pandemic hit and changed my perspective. My graduate program went online and I was isolated from everyone I knew in Oregon. I rented a car and drove back east two weeks after the country went on lockdown. I didn't want to be in Connecticut, so I moved to New York with my sister.

When we got our Brooklyn apartment, we had nothing. I felt as though I could still leave if I wanted. But my sister had different ideas. The months passed, and the city came back to life. My sister wanted to hang things on our walls, to get plants and a cat. She wanted to buy kitchenware and find recipes, have dinner together, and host movie nights.

She's a visual artist, and she saw our place becoming our very own "arthouse" — a place where we could create separately and together, inviting others in when we chose. She was thinking about our future.

She helped me through my fear of putting down roots

Sure, I'd write in the same space where she was drawing, but I wasn't ready to commit. I wasn't ready to give up on all the places I could still live. I didn't want to say this is where I live, and this is who I am. I didn't want to want to stay.

"You can still leave whenever you want," my sister said. "But that doesn't mean you can't have a place that feels safe while you're here." She told me that the place and family we were creating could be different. It could be a place where we created what we wanted to, whenever we wanted to create it.

We've lived together for four years now. In that time, we've made a place that defies what home used to mean. It's a place full of quiet and disruption. A place where we sleep on good beds, eat in the shower, listen to the radio loudly, and interrupt each other to ask about the syntax, the line weight, the pimples on our backs.

My sister has taught me that home and family mean creating alongside someone you love. She's taught me that our space and our connection can offer a new version of peace.

I'm still susceptible to that pull of relocation and anonymity. But I'm now also susceptible to the allure of coming back. That cool warm smell with the windows open and my sister coming out of her room in her leather slippers. The cats asking for food. And all of our things, exactly where we left them.

• Netflix organized and paid for a wedding for two "Bridgerton" superfans, Shanti Hinton and Tiffany Rae.
• The couple told Business Insider that Netflix flew them from New York to London for their big day.
• Cast members came to the reception where Tori Kelly performed an original "Bridgerton" song.

When Shanti Hinton and Tiffany Rae watched "Bridgerton" for the first time in 2020, they immediately fell in love with sumptuous regency drama, which brought them closer as they reminisced over the first stages of their own love story.

Little did they know that four years later, Netflix would throw them a wedding where they would be gifted their own regency-themed crest and get to meet some of the "Bridgerton" cast.

Just like "Bridgerton" season three leads Penelope and Colin, Hinton and Rae had a friends-to-lovers romance. The pair became friends in 2011 when they were at high school in New York, after Rae offered to help Hinton with her science homework, they told Business Insider. Romance blossomed during Hinton's senior year when she was about to go to college.

"She asked, 'Oh, who wants to jog with me before I leave?' And that's how it all started," Rae said.

The pair told Shondaland.com that they dated long-distance for the next four years while Hinton attended college in North Carolina and Rae stayed in New York for a dance course at Queensborough Community College.

"It wasn't, like, crazy serious, it was puppy love, but we knew our energy gravitated towards each other and that we were going to be with each other," Rae, 28, said. "I mean, that first year, we talked about marriage. We were so young!"

Things started getting more serious in 2016 when they moved in together and met each other's families. They got engaged four years later, but then COVID hit, putting their dream wedding on hold.

"We was like, 'Are we just going to elope?'" Rae said. "Our families will kill us if we do that. And we really want a destination wedding."

She added: "Something in our spirits told us, 'Just wait because something's going to happen."

While waiting for the right moment, Netflix contacted them on social media. They were already on the streamer's radar after attending the Queen's Ball an immersive "Bridgerton" pride event held last June in different cities worldwide.

Rae and Hinton said the event gave them an excuse to dress up.

"We just like to do crazy silly things," Rae said.

A Netflix representative noticed their regal outfits and asked to take their picture, which was shared on the event's social media.

"They took a picture of us because they loved our outfits," Hinton, 28, said.

In November 2023, another Netflix representative reached out, explaining they were looking for "Bridgerton" superfans to throw a themed wedding for.

"I was like, 'Oh, girl, this has to be a scam,'" Rae told Shondaland.com of her first thoughts before agreeing to go through the interview process.

In January 2024, Netflix chose Rae and Hinton, promising to provide them with a luxury wedding planner who would accommodate their requests.

"We were shocked," Hinton told BI. "We were like, 'Wait a minute, this is real?' And we started hugging each other and crying, and it was just like we were still in shock."

Rae said the fact it was a "Bridgerton" wedding was the "cherry on top" of the opportunity.

"We love 'Bridgeton' so much. We love the time period," Rae said. "It fits with who we are. We love to dress up."

Hinton and Rae said Netflix catered to their every request

The wedding was planned in a flash. A month and a half after being told they'd won, Netflix flew Hinton and Rae to London for their big day.

Rae said they wanted to keep Netflix's involvement a secret, so they didn't tell their family and friends until after they had agreed to fly to London for the wedding.

"We just told them that we were getting married, and they pulled up for us, period," she said. "And then after, once they confirmed that they were coming, then we said, 'yeah, by the way…'"

Rae said Netflix paid for the couple's flights, outfits, and hotel, but their guests were happy to pay for their own tickets and accommodation to support their dream day.

"We love our family and friends because they came for us," Rae said.

Netflix also hired Alice Wilkes, a luxury wedding planner based in the UK, to help organize the event. Rae and Hinton said Wilkes helped make their vision a reality.

That included an ice sculpture at their reception, which featured two winged beasts surrounding a unique family crest made for the couple, similar to those on "Bridgerton."

"Like the ice sculpture, we was like, 'I don't know if she's going to be able to pull that off.' And she's like, 'Oh yeah, we got you. Let's write it down. What else do you want?'" Hinton said.

While planning the wedding, Hinton and Rae also met "Bridgerton" stars Golda Rosheuvel, Adjoa Andoh, and Kathryn Drysdale, who helped them decide on their food and outfits.

In the YouTube video of the couple's meeting the cast shared by Netflix, Hinton and Rae cried while talking about how much they relate to Queen Charlotte (Rosheuvel) and Lady Danbury's (Andoh) journey.

"On and off camera, they really had such a genuine connection with us," Rae told BI. "We got really emotional with them, and it was really a good experience."

The wedding had tasteful "Bridgerton" references

Hinton and Rae's wedding ceremony was held in Chiswick House and Gardens, an opulent 18th-century villa in upmarket west London that is inspired by Italian architecture.

The center room was decorated with scores of flowers in multiple shades of purple, yellow, blue and white and featured violinists to give the setting a "Bridgerton" feel.

Rae rode to the venue in a carriage featuring the couple's family crest on the side and wore a crown and a diamond-themed dress in a nod to Queen Charlotte.

Meanwhile, Hinton wore a ruffled shirt and red suit jacket inspired by "Bridgerton" character Simon Basset (Regé-Jean Page).

There weren't many other "Bridgerton" references at the ceremony, but Hinton and Rae liked that.

"What I loved about the wedding was that it wasn't too much," Rae said. "I loved that they didn't make it too much in the period style. They made it in the period style, but more of us as well. It was like a mixture of who we are."

Hinton and Rae added that they were focused only on each other during the wedding and didn't truly appreciate the decoration until after the service.

"The best part was seeing Tiffani come down the aisle because of the anticipation," Hinton said. "I was just like, 'I have to see her. I'm waiting to see. I can't see her.' So to finally have that moment just to see her beautiful smile just lit up the room, I was just bawled."

Rae said: "I was crying every second. After we got married and I was able to sit and look around, I was like, 'Oh, that's so beautiful.'"

The wedding reception was held at The Lanesborough Hotel, another 18th-century house that hosts a "Bridgerton" themed afternoon tea.

This was where the "Bridgerton" theme really kicked in. The venue featured the ice sculpture with the couple's crest and was covered in flowers.

The dining room looked like a banquet hall, with huge floral displays and candles decorated with floral imagery and the couple's crest.

Rosheuvel, Andoh, and Drysdale also returned to congratulate the couple and introduce another special guest.

Hinton and Rae were told during the planning stages that they would be treated to a performance of a new "Bridgerton" love song for their first dance.

At the reception, Grammy-winning artist Tori Kelly surprised the pair and performed "All I Want," an original song that appeared in "Bridgerton" season three.

Hinton said this was a "mind-blowing" moment for her.

"It gave me goosebumps. I didn't know what to do with myself. I was just holding Tiff the whole time, just in shock that she was there," Hinton said. "I was a huge fan of Tori Kelly when she was on YouTube doing her singing covers."

After their dream wedding, the couple is trying to find the right time to go on their honeymoon.

"This is like a dream come true for us to finally get married in this way, and to showcase it to the world is a bonus," Rae said.

• Nike just said its sales will fall over the coming quarters, sending its shares down 20%.
• The sportswear brand has started implementing a turnaround plan, but the results are yet to be seen.
• Nike's reliance on its lifestyle business seems to be hurting it, one analyst said.

Nike is facing one of the most challenging periods in decades.

In December, the company announced a cost-cutting initiative that included simplifying its assortment of products and cutting jobs.

The aim was to deliver up to $2 billion in savings over the next three years, which "will be invested to fuel future growth, accelerate innovation at speed and scale, and drive greater long-term profitability."

Two quarters on, investors aren't seeing much of that growth.

On Thursday, Nike delivered a lackluster set of Q4 results and said it expects sales for its 2025 fiscal year to fall by mid-single digits, including a 10% drop in the first quarter alone. That shocked investors, especially as analysts had expected a 1% increase this year, according to Reuters.

Some major reasons included a tougher sales environment in China, ongoing challenges with its digital platform, and what Nike CFO Matthew Friend described as "muted" forward wholesale orders with "newness not yet at scale."

It doesn't look like it's going to get better very quickly, either, with Friend saying on the earnings call that the "next few quarters will be challenging."

Meantime, CEO John Donahue said that 2025 "will be a transition year for our business."

None of it impressed investors much. Nike's shares closed down 20% on Friday afternoon.

So, how can the biggest name in sneakers get its stride back?

One answer rests in what the company calls its "lifestyle" business — basically, shoes and clothing meant for casual wear. Nike's "performance" segment, meanwhile, includes many of its core sports products, such as basketball shoes.

While revenue from performance products grew in Q4, declines in its lifestyle business overshadowed them, contributing to the worse-than-expected results.

In its last fiscal year, lifestyle products have grown to about 60% of Nike's business, UBS analyst Jay Sole estimates.

Dividing sales more evenly between performance and lifestyle products would help Nike "restore its image as a sports brand and make its top-line growth rate more sustainable for the long term," he wrote in a note.

"One of our big takeaways from Nike's 4Q report is its lifestyle business needs a major reset," Sole said.

The company has also lost ground to rivals when it comes to connecting directly with customers.

Members of run clubs in Portland, near Nike's headquarters, say that they have been visited by representatives from smaller brands like Hoka and New Balance — but no one from Nike, The Wall Street Journal reported on Thursday.

CEO Donahue noted that road running "remains a competitive battlefield that we are playing to win" on the call.

Another issue is Nike's pipeline of new products.

Nike has been cutting back on some popular shoe lines to get people hyped about new ones. On Thursday's call, Donahue pointed to areas where Nike has introduced new products, from fitness leggings aimed at female consumers to shoes specifically for road runners.

That could help drive performance sales — especially those through Nike's digital business, a major pain point at the moment for the company.

But Donahue also referenced products that were still in development or months away from release. He teased new versions of Nike's Pegasus and Vomero running shoes, for instance, that aren't scheduled to hit shelves until the second half of fiscal 2025 while referencing a "strong wholesale order book" for coming seasons.

"Talking about newness not in stores doesn't work anymore," Jefferies analyst Randal Konik wrote.

While CFO Friend said management is "confident that we are repositioning Nike to be more competitive," investors have yet to be convinced.

"This is still [Nike] and the right strategy could turn the business," BMO analyst Simeon Siegel wrote in a note after Thursday's earnings report. "But we're not convinced that strategy is presently in place."