Most people would look at my life and think, “Man, he’s got it pretty damn good! It must be nice to be so lucky.”
I’ve heard that a lot throughout my life, and there was a time when it would bother me. It bothered me because I know how hard I worked for everything I have today. The truth is, I may not be the smartest guy in the world, but I will absolutely outwork everyone out there, even if it means I only get to sleep two hours a night. I’ve always taken a sense of pride in my work ethic and it’s a big part of who I am.
That comes from how I grew up. You see, while the popular narrative may be that people like me got lucky by being born into the right family, nothing could be further from the truth. At least not from a financial perspective.
It may surprise you to learn that I didn’t grow up rich. My parents were incredibly smart and hard working, but we didn’t have much. And our financial status fell even further when they both lost their jobs. It was shortly after this that I had to step up and pay the mortgage at the age of 14. I share this not to disparage my father in any way, but rather to preface what I’m about to share with a little context.
Like I said, he always worked incredibly hard to provide for our family, but this was the 1970s at the peak of stagflation when unemployment was through the roof, and circumstances were out of his control. This was a common experience for millions of Americans at the time, unfortunately.
But because I’ve always worked, I had a shoebox with $3,000 sitting under my bed, and I was happy to help my family. I saw it as a way to give back to them, just a small token of my appreciation, for all that they had done for me throughout my life. I always say that I’ve been truly blessed in having an amazing and supportive family, so it was an honor to be able to give back.
Pay attention to that particular detail because it ties into something we’ll be talking about again shortly. But to tell this properly, I’ll have to go back to before my parents lost their jobs.
I was maybe nine or ten when I started mowing lawns in the neighborhood to make some money for myself, and pretty quickly, I realized that I was missing out on a lot of opportunities by using a push mower. There were only so many lawns I could do that way, but, if I got a riding lawnmower, I knew I could do a lot more lawns in a lot less time.
There was a problem though. I didn’t have the $600 I needed to buy one. That’s where my father stepped in. He lent me the money — but there was a catch: He was going to charge me interest.
Now, often when I tell this story, people will say, “What a jerk!” But the truth is, that’s the best way he could have handled it because that’s how the real world works. He was teaching me a valuable lesson that helped me later in life.
And in this case, it wasn’t that much later, because while he charged me 6% interest on my little lawnmower loan, when the time came to lend him money to pay the mortgage after losing his job, interest rates were considerably higher, and I ended up charging him 17% interest.
And the crazy thing is that he was proud of me for that, both for learning the lesson he was trying to teach me, and for having the backbone to put it into practice in this situation. Most kids at that age, I think, wouldn’t do that. I did, and he loved it.
To say that I went on and built a successful career would be an understatement on a massive scale. I graduated college, got a hell of a start in Prudential’s M&A division, made a name for myself pretty quickly and before long launched my own private equity firm. From there, I went on to build a nearly $800 million dollar empire by acquiring and scaling companies.
Through most of my career, while I was always philanthropic, which I believe was driven by my upbringing, I was mainly focused on myself. What I could achieve. What I could earn. What I could become known for. It was largely about me and my ego.
My father was the absolute biggest advantage I ever had, and it had nothing to do with money. It had to do with his love, guidance, support, and tough love when I needed that.
One night, we were having dinner. He obviously had been thinking about an aspect of my life for a while, and he drove the point home when he bought me a book about the second half of your life.
He used a golf analogy, as I had played some competitive golf. He simply used the analogy that I had played very, very well on the front nine and by all accounts was leading the tournament. He said that despite all that I still seemed as unhappy as he had ever seen me. He just plainly put that on the front nine (i.e. the last 50 years) I had a particular mission.
We did not have money growing up, and as a result, I became obsessed with the panacea of wealth, but I learned it was a false god. How could I be so successful yet so unhappy?
I needed to think about what is going to water my garden going forward and provide the type of example for my children that I wanted to be. He gently, or perhaps not so gently, as is often the Carver way, suggested that focusing on others might provide that sense of purpose.
You often see some degree of focus on philanthropy in successful people, including a fellow UVA grad, Paul Tudor Jones, who started the Robin Hood Foundation. At one point, he agreed to pay for college for a terribly underperforming school, and he expected that with that money, almost all the kids would graduate and end up going to college for free.
While graduation went up, only about one-third of the students ended up going on to college. He realized that success was more than just one thing — it took a combination of factors to achieve real change. So we tend to start off loose, and then over time, get more strategic in our philanthropic efforts.
I’ve achieved more than most people ever will, and I will never feel guilty or apologize for that. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. But when I thought back to the love and support I received from my family growing up, and the fact that so many people don’t even have that, I realized what was missing — what I was miserable about.
The golf analogy was a powerful one. Here I was, on the 10th hole, so to speak, of my own life, coming to the realization that I needed to do things very differently going forward. That’s when I made the decision to start scaling up my philanthropic efforts, and in light of the circumstances, I immediately settled in on the perfect name that embodied its mission: Pura Vida Back Nine.
Pura Vida is Spanish for “Pure Life,” tying the story of how I made the decision to embark on my bigger mission to give back to the world by creating a support system that helps more people achieve whatever it is that matters to them, as the main focus of the second half, or the “back nine” of my own life.
My goal is to live an ultimately more substantial and fulfilling life now that I am clearly more than halfway done with my life — not to let my legacy be my firm or wealth.
Many, many people gave so much to me. It is time to give to other people who did not have the parents I have, who were not born with the brain I have, who did not get the education that I got, who do not have the belief that this country provides you with the opportunity to achieve everything.
I strongly believe that those of us who achieve great success owe that to the world.
The world is really at a tough time and so many people are really struggling. Our country is so horribly divided so I want to be a beacon. I have a new purpose. Not only do I think it will help society and others, I also think it will help me in the process.
Look, the reality is not everyone can do what we do. We’ve all got different strengths, goals, even views of the world, and we all have value as individual humans. We’re all interconnected, whether we realize it or not, and we all play a different role in the world.
Some, like me, may be best suited for an entrepreneurial role, turning ideas into valuable assets that foster commerce. Others, like the participants in one of my philanthropic projects, may have a particular gift for music, while an entirely different group could be the next generation of scientists who will solve the medical crises that end so many amazing lives before their time.
Every one of these groups of people, and countless others, are equally important.
We each have a different role to play, and we each add value to the world in our own unique way. Yes, we need a growing economy, but the works also need the arts, medical advancement and countless other things for a strong and cohesive society that truly benefits everyone.
So over the next few weeks, I’m going to break down four case studies of philanthropic projects I’ve led, both to inspire you to find a cause that you’re passionate about and to give you a blueprint to execute on your own philanthropic mission.
I’m grateful that Equities.com graciously gave me a platform to share this message. This principle is something the founders of this outlet believe in deeply. I appreciate that, and I hope to see more people supporting this valuable mission in whatever way makes the most sense for them.
I believe as a successful investor, I owe that to the world, and I hope you’ll join me on a similar journey because while I believe it’s my duty, I also believe it’s an honor that I’m fortunate to embark on.
Read more: Making meaningful connections that extend beyond business
