For 24 years, Ericka Gray has owned her own mediation and arbitration business in Arlington, Massachusetts, helping organizations navigate workplace disputes. But when the Covid-19 pandemic began, her income completely dried up. In May 2020, Citizens Bank approved her for a $5,800 PPP loan. It wasn’t a huge sum compared the multimillion-dollar loans some corporations received, but Gray had enough income to pay her mortgage and cover her health care costs. But in May 2021, Gray received a shocking email from Citizens explaining that no, she shouldn’t have received $5,800. Instead, a bank representative later told her on the phone, she was in fact only eligible for $3,837. The difference won’t be forgiven, and she’ll have to pay it back. Citizens did not respond to a request for comment. Gray is not the only person whose bank has reversed its stance on how much PPP money they should be eligible for and demanded repayment. Three other small business owners told The Intercept they have similarly been notified by their different lenders that they shouldn’t have received the amount they were approved for and that they’ll have to pay back the difference.

Remitly, a Seattle-based firm that provides international remittances and digital financial services for immigrants, has added new banking features in its money management app Passbook. Launched early last year, Passbook aims to simplify the process of opening and using a bank account for immigrants in the U.S. by eliminating banking fees, accepting alternative forms of identification, and facilitating international money transfers. The digital banking services on the Passbook app are offered through a bank account issued by Sunrise Banks, a Certified B Corp and partner bank with experience working for immigrant communities through initiatives such as the Open Door Mortgage Program. The bank has previously issued prepaid debit cards for AT&T Small Business, Boost Mobile, and Relay.

While they aren't synonymous—although there is some overlap between the two categories—community development financial institutions and minority depository institutions have common roots in a shared historical purpose. “The roots of the CDFI banking sector began with the minority depository institutions,” says Jeannine Jacokes, chief executive of the Community Development Bankers Association. “In the early 20th century, when it was legal to refuse service to a customer on the basis of race, Black business people began organizing financial institutions that were Black-owned and committed to serving Black customers—and as populations of other communities of color grew, the diversity of the minority depository institutions grew as well.” Southern Bancorp and Bank of Anguilla are mentioned. 

For people who need emergency money quickly, payday lenders have long been among the few available options. They are ubiquitous in the U.S., with an estimated 13,700 storefronts in 2018, many in low-income and Black communities. Although 18 states and Washington, D.C., have strong interest rate caps on payday lending, in others some lenders charge annual interest rates that surpass 600 percent. But in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic and the inequalities it exposed and exacerbated, there is a renewed focus on the need to counter payday lenders by bringing better, fairer banking services—personal loans, but also mortgages and small business loans—to the primarily low-income people who have long had difficulty accessing them. The federal government as well as corporations and at least one bold name philanthropist are injecting money into Community Development Financial Institutions (CDFIs), financial service providers whose mission is to bring financial services to low-income communities and people within rural, urban, and Native communities—the places many traditional banks have largely excluded. The game-changing infusion amounts to billions of dollars’ worth of investment.