By NANCY LAVIN, Rhode Island Current
Minutes into his work day on a June Monday, Mike Healey saw a post by his social media- savvy boss in support of payday lending reform tagging the leaders of both chambers of the Rhode Island General Assembly.
A few hours later, another post by Weayonnoh Nelson-Davies, executive director for the
Economic Progress Institute, crossed Healey’s screen.
“I call BULL! RI lawmakers are ready to do away with this usury. ONE lawmaker has ignored all of the evidence we have provided with alternatives. How has the military and every other New England state figure[d] it out? Give me a break. @RISenate”
Healey gasped in shock. This was hardly the kind of language and tone he was accustomed to after 18 years in communications for various state government agencies.
“So I get up and knock on her door, and she’s just sitting there in her chair with the guiltiest look on her face,” said Healey.
Busted.
No one dared to call out Senate President Dominick Ruggerio by name before, fearing
retribution from the top Senate leader, who has near unilateral power over what legislation advances to the full chamber for a floor vote.
Despite the momentum from the historic 70-2 vote on the House floor in 2023 and an
intensified public awareness campaign in 2024, leadership in both the Rhode Island
Senate and House refused to bring payday lending reform legislation to committee or floor votes.
Even so, Ruggerio had emailed Nelson-Davies and thanked her for her advocacy.
“We have a responsibility to listen to all of the testimony we receive and, as best we can, to weigh the positive and negative ramifications of each piece of legislation before us,” Ruggerio wrote in the email obtained by Rhode Island Current.
“Some witnesses testified and submitted testimony with serious concerns, particularly
with regard [to] leaving lenders with poor credit very limited options. Without pay loans,
these witnesses argued to the committee, desperate individuals could be driven to less
reputable, unregulated, sources of borrowing if an unexpected cost arises, such as a car repair they may suddenly be needed so an individual can get to their place of employment.”
But two weeks later, the session was over, the bill still languishing in legislative purgatory in its respective chamber committees. It was the same unhappy ending that has characterized the 15-year saga to repeal the special exemption from state interest rate limits and require storefront payday lenders to play by the same rules as other lenders.
‘Power in this voice’
As a child growing up in Liberia, peers and even siblings poked fun at Nelson-Davies’
booming voice, which was unusually deep for a child. She learned to keep quiet.
But after years of violence and chaos in the decades long civil war that consumed her
adolescence, ultimately leading to the death of two of her brothers, a little schoolyard
ridicule seemed less important. During a break in fighting, Nelson-Davies joined a group of middle school classmates to put on touring performances, aimed at convincing child
soldiers to abandon the war effort and return to the classroom.
“People actually stopped and listened to me, and it was like, wow, there is power in this voice,” she said.
Inspired by her hero, Nelson Mandela, Nelson-Davies decided to use that power to fight for peace in her country. But her plans were cut short when her parents insisted she seek refuge in the United States, where several of her siblings already lived.
Providence offered a tranquil, but isolating, contrast to Liberia.
While Nelson-Davies sailed through her final years at Mount Pleasant High School, she was unable to qualify for financial aid to attend college because of her temporary immigration status. She wound up working behind the cash register of a Dunkin Donuts until she got a chance to join City Year Providence.
“You knew right away there was something special about Weayonnoh,” said Margaux
Morisseau, co-chair of the Rhode Island Coalition for Payday Lending Reform and a fellow City Year member.
The duo attended Rhode Island College together before parting ways when Nelson-Davies headed to Roger Williams University School of Law on a merit-based scholarship, and then to work as an attorney for various legal aid groups in Massachusetts.With much coaxing from Morisseau, who had served as Economic Progress Institute’s interim executive director for an eight-month span starting in 2021, Nelson-Davies applied for the open position as EPI’s new leader.
Fearless fighter
Nelson-Davies’ clear passion for the economic and racial issues integral to the institute’s research and advocacy was clear, said Linda Katz, co-founder of EPI, who was involved in the hiring and leadership transition.
As for Nelson-Davies’ approach to social media?
“It’s a very different style,” Katz said, adding that it “remains to be seen,” how legislators will respond.
Rep. Karen Alzate, a Pawtucket Democrat and bill sponsor, welcomed the pressure
Nelson-Davies placed upon legislative leaders.
“We don’t really see a lot of these executive directors that are really at the forefront,” she said.
“Sometimes as legislators, we do feel like we are the only ones genuinely advocating
behind the scenes.”
Nelson-Davies emphasized that the intent behind her social media posts was not to pick a fight with State House leaders. Instead, she saw it as a last-ditch effort to call attention to a social and economic justice issue that, in her eyes, had gone largely ignored or unnoticed by top lawmakers.
While she did not intend to upset legislative leaders, she wasn’t afraid of them, either.
“There seems to be a culture of nervousness, here,” she said. “I come from a country where you get killed for speaking up. Now, I am a U.S. citizen. In America, it shouldn’t be that way.”
Editor’s Note: Nancy Lavin is a senior reporter covering state politics, energy and environmental issues for the Rhode Island Current. Rhode Island Current is part of States Newsroom, the nation’s largest state-focused nonprofit news organization.
