In hopes of addressing and mitigating socioeconomic disparities within marginalized

groups and communities, nonprofits and private financial, governmental, and educational

institutions around the world have established what are known as financial literacy programs. Many of these programs, especially in Central America, have served as stepping stones for marginalized people’s financial independence and success. Programs like PayPal’s GIVE Program, Abriendo Futuros, and La Asociación Mexicana de Uniones de Crédito del Sector Social strive to provide poor and isolated Mexican communities with robust financial education. This includes curricula surrounding sustainable personal financial practices like budgeting and saving as well as engagement with financial products like credit and insurance. However, exploring the broader social costs of this specific form of financial success is crucial. There might be a chance that these programs are doing more harm than good. In this project, I aim to understand how financial literacy programs in Mexico function as both gendering and racializing processes that are built on neoliberal foundations. In addition, I hope to communicate the need to not consider these programs as value neutral and instead analyze how they reify existing socioeconomic hierarchies. To do this, I will investigate how incisive language is used to both advertise and rationalize the steep social cost of these programs.

 

As one of the largest developing countries in terms of population, Mexico has become

home to tens of thousands of initiatives that seek to increase financial literacy among

disadvantaged populations. Two of the main groups targeted by these programs are women and indigenous people. Mexico has severe levels of wealth inequality, as the top ten percent of the population holds almost half of the country’s wealth. As can be expected, women and indigenous people are disproportionately affected. Due to structural inequalities, they are unable to participate in capital markets and there is very limited opportunity for social mobility. In fact, while only making up 6% of the total population, indigenous people in Mexico, especially those living in Yucatan and Oaxaca, experience poverty at a rate double that of the rest of the population (Romero et al.). Similarly, according to Jacobson, women in Mexico are four times more likely than men to not be working, in school, or in training (Jacobson). Furthermore, due to the severe underrepresentation of both Mexican women and indigenous people in financial processes, organizations such as nonprofits, governmental institutions, and large corporations like PayPal have taken it upon themselves to provide philanthropic assistance as well as financial education to people in these communities. However, large corporations are rarely altruistic, which raises concerns about what the true intentions of their programs are. In order to fully comprehend the effect of financial literacy programs, we must consider them in the context of neoliberalism.

 

Neoliberalism, as a response to capitalism, has taken the world by storm as it gives

people a “new and improved” way of thinking about capital and success in a free market economy. A big tenet of neoliberalism is the hyperfocus on the individual rather than society itself. Many use this as a form of motivation, claiming that “you are only an obstacle,” yet this perspective deliberately ignores the external factors that generate these obstacles. This idea gives people the artificial impression of choice and personal empowerment in a profoundly constrictive economy. Haiven, Canada Research Chair in Culture, Media, and Social Justice at Lakehead University, emphasizes how financial literacy programs are deeply rooted in neoliberal principles, saying that they facilitate “[the consideration] of financial hardship as an individual problem that can be fixed by education, planning, and perseverance while ignoring the social and structural factors that cause it” (Haiven 349). Furthermore, while these programs seek to help the marginalized, they do so in ways that force them to take on the burden of “reverting” social

inequalities, absolving corporations of any responsibility and further cementing the structures that initially caused this marginalization. In addition, in a profit driven world, we can observe how these kinds of programs also serve as tools for corporate benefit. Alex Noel, the Bloomberg Head of Financial Products Sales for Mexico and Central America, says that programs that advance diversity and inclusion are not only doing the right thing, but they also “give companies a competitive edge [that results] in better business decisions” (Bloomberg). The quote shows how although the missions of these programs seem to be inherently selfless, they can never be fully detached from their company’s agenda. Banks that invest in financial literacy programs seem to only do so in hopes of expanding their reach and increasing their clientele. Similarly, the Russia Trust Fund says that financial literacy programs result in “increased the number of transactions and the balance of their savings account more with respect to programme participants who did not receive the training” (OECD). Furthermore, participants of such programs engage in the economic processes in ways that we can assume are enormously advantageous for large corporations and only marginally so for their own communities. This is especially true for women, as they are usually the target audience of such programs. 

 

When scrutinizing the ways financial literacy programs advertise themselves, I was able

to see the extent to which the gender of potential participants results in a variation between the words and symbols used to advertise such programs. The first and most distressing example is that of the Inter-American Dialogue in one of their program outcome reviews. In their outcome reviews the Inter-American Dialogue provides pictures and testimonials of people who participate in the programs. The program itself seeks to assist migrants, indigenous people, and those who depend on remittances in their budgeting and saving efforts, yet they talk about women in a very polarizing way. For example, the program shares two instances of success stories: Juan and Josefina. When it came to Juan (presumably male), the Inter-American Dialogue uses neutral language, explaining that Juan “deposited his first 200 pesos in the account, and plans to deposit more each time he comes in to pick up his remittance” (Inter-American Dialogue 8). However, Josefina’s story was much different, as she is described as a “35 year old housewife” who chose to “open a savings account and purchase life insurance, ensuring greater financial stability and well-being for herself and her family” (Inter-American Dialogue 1). In addition, her success story is followed by a website image of her talking to a financial educator. Although this image may seem harmless at first, it conveys how financial literacy programs have come to assume that women’s participation in financial procedures are inextricably tied to familial duties and household work (as she is wearing a delantal, which is commonly used by South and Central American women when cooking and doing chores). This kind of gendered language is prominent among financial literacy program descriptions and mission statements, as even the Mexican government emphasizes that their program (Proyecto Minerva), seeks to “empower [women] and contribute to their personal, family and community development” (CNPDUSF). This kind of discourse is offensive, as it diminishes the female experience to what they do for the people around them and assumes that financial freedom and success for Mexican women is limited to their ability to serve their families. This phenomenon is much more difficult for indigenous women as their struggles are conflated to reflect their gender and indigeneity.

 

As I analyzed financial literacy programs that targeted indigenous people in rural parts of

Mexico, I noticed the abundance of othering language and imagery that was

used as a means of marketability and rationale for these programs. A lot of the discourse

revolved around establishing a separation between the institution (financial literacy programs) and the audience (indigenous people). Words used in program materials were indicative of colonial and savior-like relationships being formed as a consequence of this kind of outreach. There were many instances in which program advertisements, like the PayPal GIVE Program, included phrasing like “we are here to help the Mazahua community,” and “we are being allies” (PayPal). Yet, this was not exclusive to PayPal, as philanthropic efforts were also a recurring theme in Abriendo Futuros and La Asociación Mexicana de Uniones de Crédito del Sector Social. Similarly, the PayPal workers not only wore identifying uniforms but were also white presenting, which visually separated them from the indigenous community they were “serving,” adding more layers of distinction. A similar aspect of the racialization of these people is the emphasis on geographical distance between the institution and the people it seeks to help. About a fourth of the PayPal video was dedicated to emphasizing how PayPal workers from the capital city travel hours to reach these rural communities, introducing a theme of disconnection and inconvenience. This was consistent among all the programs I studied, as remoteness became a defining characteristic of indigenous people in Mexico. Finally, another recurring pattern I saw

was  how financial literacy programs  characterize indigenous people of being at risk.

Indigenous women in particular were the primary focuses of this kind of language.

 

Mexican indigenous women were subjected to the most punitive racializing language in

financial literacy program material. Throughout most of the financial literacy programs I

reviewed, indigenous women were considered to be “the most marginalized groups,” as they were presumed to deal with sexism exclusively through the oppressive forces of their cultures (United Nations). A famous example of this is a program that was created by the United States Embassy in Mexico, called “Breaking the Cycle of Violence.” As the title suggests, domestic violence is assumed to happen to indigenous women, reflecting the majority’s ignorance and quickness to criticize unfamiliar cultures. Similar ideas are prominent in Abriendo Futuros’ materials, as they use seemingly biased information to introduce the women they are trying to help (Romero et al). Informed by preconceived notions about indigenous women and their experiences, Abriendo Futuros characterized them as unable to live sustainably or comfortably, as they were victims of discrimination and violence in their communities. Furthermore, financial literacy programs established themselves as ways of escaping this kind of artificial oppression, while providing no tangible evidence of its existence and operating on stereotypical assumptions. Although indigenous women do face socially immobilizing structural inequality, financial literacy programs exploited this in a way that racialized them and the people around them.

 

Financial literacy programs in Mexico use targeted language to attract marginalized

audiences including women and indigenous people. Although these programs can be of great benefit to participants, they embody neoliberal ideals that place an undue burden on the marginalized groups they seek to serve, while deliberately ignoring the role large capitalist corporations play in socioeconomic inequality. It is important to not take these programs at face value and to consider how they perpetuate the structures they advertise themselves to undo. When thinking about our engagements with the financial system, we should keep in mind those who are being exploited for capitalist benefit and do our part to unlearn implicit biases and assumptions we have about them and their experiences.

Works Cited

 

“Bloomberg Sponsors MIDE Financial Literacy Program for Women | Press.” Bloomberg.com, https://www.bloomberg.com/company/press/bloomberg-sponsors-mide-financial-literacy-program-for-women/. 

 

Inter-American Dialogue. “Financial Literacy in Mexico.” Remittances and Development,  https://www.ilo.org/dyn/migpractice/docs/185/Handout.pdf.

 

“Gender and Indigenous Peoples’ Human Rights.” The Secretariat of the Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, Division for Social Policy and Development United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Briefing Note 6, 2010.

 

Haiven, Max. “The USES of FINANCIAL LITERACY: Financialization, the Radical Imagination, and the Unpayable Debts of Settler Colonialism.” Duke University Press, vol. 13, no. 3, 2017, pp. 348-369.

 

“Impulsan la educación financiera con perspectiva de género CONDUSEF, AMIS e INMUJERES.” Gobierno de México, 10 August 2021, https://www.gob.mx/condusef/prensa/impulsan-la-educacion-financiera-con-perspectiva-de-genero-condusef-amis-e-inmujeres. 

 

Jacobson, Amanda. “Why can the financial inclusion of women boost Mexico's economy?” Latin America Business Stories, 27 November 2020, https://labsnews.com/en/articles/society/financial-inclusion-mexico-women/. 

 

PayPal GIVE Program Teaches the Mazahua Community Financial Literacy in Mexico

City, Youtube, uploaded by PayPal, 2019.

 

Romero, Fabiola, et al. “Abriendo Futuros: A program for rural indigenous girls in Yucatan, Mexico, Policy brief.” Population Commons, 2020.

 

“WOMEN AND FINANCIAL LITERACY: OECD/INFE EVIDENCE, SURVEY AND POLICY RESPONSES.” Financial Literacy & Education: Russia Trust Fund, 2013.