A Richers ‘make mistakes’, the poor go to jail | Chris Arnade Admitted.

I left my Wall Street trader job and began photographing drug addicts in NYC. These two worlds have entirely different rules

I knew him as “Mr one-glove”. The origins of his nickname were cloudy, but had to do with his legendary stinginess. He had just lost his company close to $1bn betting on mortgages. That company, facing massive losses from him and other traders, had only staved off bankruptcy because of the grace of the government.

It was late in 2008 and Mr one-glove had joined us at a bar, a group of disparate Wall Street traders united in an attempt to drink away a bad year. Near the end of the night, Mr one-glove leaned into the table of beers, and asked,

    Do you think we will get paid well this year?

Mr one-glove was not somebody who trafficked in irony. Despite the massive loss, despite his company being bailed out, Mr one-glove didn’t get fired, nor did he lose any of his wealth. No, Mr one-glove got paid well. Not by his standards, since he did not get a year-end bonus, just his salary of around $300,000. Mr one-glove was unhappy with that.

Nearly five years later, my life was very different. I left my Wall Street job to start a photo project documenting the lives of addicts in the Hunts Point section of the Bronx, New York City’s poorest neighborhood.

A year ago I sat with one my new friends, Takeesha, at a small table in a visiting room in Rikers Island jail. Takeesha was in Rikers for possession of a needle and for intent to sell. Or maybe this time it was for prostitution. Takeesha is often in Rikers. Near the end of our conversation, Takeesha leaned into the table and asked,