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Mission

Can we do better?

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I'm building the Life Over Debt alliance, and serve as the storyteller for the TriUnity Foundation, to help millions of people heal from the financial devastation of cancer, the second-leading cause of death in America.

I've interviewed countless cancer patients, doctors, caregivers, researchers, advocates, and credit union professionals. All of them agree that credit unions can and must do more for folks like Michael.

He would urge you to read to the end. So would I.

It's August 2024, and Michael is desperate. His wife's stage 2 breast cancer diagnosis was terrifying enough, but the year-long effort to save her life has eviscerated their family financially, emotionally, and physically.

Although she's in remission, a barrage of complications—the blood clot lodged in her right atrium, the unexplained anemia, the unrelenting fatigue—have made her return to a full-time work schedule nearly impossible.

Add in the fact that Michael's small business never fully recovered from the pandemic, and it's no wonder he's barely sleeping; he's terrified about losing his ailing wife and his struggling company, paying the stacks of overdue medical bills, and succumbing to the deep shadows looming over their once bright future.

Maybe Michael can get help from Barclays. Probably not with a new loan—his credit is in shambles—but for help with the credit card he’s had with them for nearly a decade. They’re hounding him daily by phone and text and email for his overdue payment, a payment he just can't afford. But maybe they'll work with him.

He’s cautiously optimistic because of their outward support of people with cancer: their investment advisors donate part of their commissions to support the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, and their CEO has openly shared the lessons he learned from his own cancer diagnosis in 2022.

They've even devoted an entire page of their website to how Barclays employees like “Steve” regularly help customers like “John” in cancer-related financial distress.

Michael notices that John's story is posted only on the Barclays UK site but doesn't think twice about that; after all, such corporate benevolence should transcend oceans, no?

So Michael logs into his Barclays US credit card account and signs up for their Long Term Assistance Program (LTAP). In a few clicks, he agrees to pay $68 a month for the next 5 years, slashing his monthly minimum payment by more than $100 each month. It's not a lot and they're hardly out of the woods, but every bit of breathing room helps.

Michael relaxes enough to finally sleep through the night for the first time in months because, in Barclays' own words, "[w]e won't spring any surprises on you."

A few days later, Michael gets a letter from Barclays. He reads the first line—"We would like to confirm your participation in our Long Term Assistance Program"—and assumes it's just routine documentation.

But Michael keeps reading.

"As part of your enrollment in this program, your account has been closed effective immediately."

Closed. CLOSED.

This can't be right. This has to be a mistake.

It takes Michael three times to log into his account because his hands are shaking so badly from panic. There was supposed to be $1,000 in available credit on that card. He needed every penny of it to make ends meet. But it's just . . . gone. The card is useless.

Michael contacts Barclays customer service first by chat, then by phone, pleading for the reinstatement of the account. They refuse.

Michael demands that Barclays shows where in the online LTAP signup process do they say the account will be closed. He doesn't recall reading that stipulation. He never would've signed up if that was the case. They refuse.

Surprises sprung, after all.

And now Michael is more desperate than ever.

He'd rather you didn't know about his financial hardship. He's tried to keep it private and hidden, out of your sight even though it's never out of his mind.

He's also mortified about this final, essential revelation:

Michael is his real name, but not his first one. It's his middle name. His full name is Andrew Michael Janning.

Michael is me.

It's embarrassing to make that confession but it is my reality, a trauma I have in common with millions of people with cancer.

Too many of them asked their bank, credit union, credit card company, or another lender for help in the hardest season of life.

Too many of them believed they'd be heard, understood, and helped. They weren’t.

Can we do better? I think so.

If you read this far, I think you do too.

Let's prove it.

Andy Janning

Andy Janning

Life Over Debt