The task of trying to stop the cycle of poverty, that revolving door of deplorable need, is a Goliath-sized challenge requiring far more than David’s precision slingshot.
Society wrangling with poverty and its impacts, not only on the family and individual but the whole, is as old as civilization itself. The philosophers of ancient Greece were talking about it. The least among us, of course, was a central topic in the teachings of Jesus Christ, 2,000 years ago.
More recently, Lyndon Johnson began a federally waged War on Poverty.
By and large, it is a foregone conclusion that, despite the best of intentions and trillions spent, poverty has won.
“Paul Ryan, when he was Speaker of the House, came here about six years ago,” says Allison Rix, chair of the board of Catholic Charities Fort Worth. “And this is shocking to me, but he said that of all the trillions of dollars that the government has spent on all these social programs, they’ve never studied [the impact of] any of them.”
Paul Ryan’s extensive work on the social safety net during his time as Speaker is well-documented. I asked him for an interview, but he said he couldn’t fit me into his busy schedule. However, he and an aide confirmed by email that it was true.
One very vexatious fact kept reoccurring in that work: There wasn’t much evidence on what works and what doesn’t work. All that was known for sure was that scarce government dollars were spent on well-intentioned programs that had failed to do anything except an expense of scarce taxpayer dollars.
Of course, it’s not the policymaker or service providers who bear the burden of failed public policy. Rather, it’s the single mother who needs a job or the young child who needs security to grow, physically, mentally, and emotionally, into his or her potential.
Poverty estimates in the U.S. are made by two measures.
The official poverty measure, in use since the 1960s, defines poverty by comparing pretax money income to a poverty threshold that is adjusted by family composition. The Supplemental Poverty Measure, first released in 2011 and produced with support from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, extends the official poverty measure by accounting for many government programs that are designed to assist low-income families but are not included in the official poverty measure. The SPM also includes federal and state taxes and work and medical expenses. In addition, the SPM accounts for geographic variation in poverty thresholds, while the official poverty measure does not.
The official poverty rate in 2023 was 11.1%, or 37 million people in the U.S. in poverty. The SPM was 12.9%, or 43 million people.
In Tarrant County, the poverty rate in 2023 was 10.6%, according to the American Community Survey. In 2023, 16.4% of the population was living with severe housing problems in Tarrant County, according to the County Health & Roadmaps. Females, 25-34, were the largest demographic living in poverty.
Many of these are children, who are also faced with food insecurities.
Researchers at MIT unveiled the “living wage.” They argued that the poverty threshold is outdated, accounting only for a basic food budget but not incorporate taxes, child care, or health care.
In place of the poverty thresholds, they came up with the concept of the “living wage,” which incorporates all necessary expenses families face.
For a family of two working adults and two children, the living wage is $66,842, according to one study. That means that families earning below a living wage will have difficulty covering basic expenses and necessities.
Ryan’s reasoning for coming to Fort Worth lay in a cutting-edge program developed by Catholic Charities Fort Worth. The nonprofit has developed and implemented a case-management model to ending poverty.
And it works. How do they know it works? Data.
Notre Dame’s Wilson Sheehan Lab for Economic Opportunities helps service providers apply scientific evaluation methods to better understand and share effective poverty interventions. It’s a belief, the center says, that rigorous research is a “powerful” means to an end.
An end to injustice. An end to dependence. An end to poverty.
“And a new beginning for millions of families who are ready to thrive,” officials there say.
The Lab for Economic Opportunities has put Catholic Charities Fort Worth’s Padua program in its laboratory for research, having completed two research randomized control trials. Both validated the success of the programs.
“Ultimately, we’re helping individuals who are unstable,” says Michael Iglio, CEO of Catholic Charities Fort Worth. “Unstable in finances, unstable in employment, unstable in whatever it might be in life, and we help them through long-term coaching as an accountability partner, as a coach, to learn the skills that are necessary to find a life to thrive in a level of stability for their whole family.”
What they are attempting to do ultimately is hone executive functioning, that set of mental skills that enable individuals to manage their thoughts, emotions, and actions in order to achieve goals.
Iglio, an engineer by education and trade, sets down some numbers for me to see. Eight years ago, the organization set as a goal to help get 10,000 families out of poverty in 10 years.
“We’re at 5,699,” he says proudly but with a determination. “Almost 5,700 families, backed by research, we have helped in this community to truly break away from poverty.”
By 1910, with William Howard Taft as president, the population of the U.S. had reached more than 91 million after a surge the previous decade of 16 million that included as many as 13 million immigrants.
Many of the newcomers were Catholic.
The National Conference of Catholic Charities was founded in 1910 as “the attorney for the poor.” Among the 400 in attendance at its first meeting in Washington, D.C., were three instrumental leaders: Msgr. William J. Kerby; Msgr. John O’Grady, an Irish immigrant; and Bishop Thomas J. Shahan, himself the son of immigrants from the Emerald Isle.
O’Grady was a seminal figure in Catholic Charities not only spreading across the country but in cultivating the organization and its offshoots in professionalism and training.
Catholic Charities Fort Worth’s roots are in a small group of women at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in downtown — more than 100 years ago, it was known simply as St. Patrick’s Church. They petitioned Bishop Edward J. Dunne to begin a work of mercy. They wanted to work with the poor and vulnerable in the St. Patrick community. That manifested in mostly helping parental units feed their families.
But there began the good work of Catholic Charities Fort Worth. More than 100 years later, the organization stands out as an exemplar of service organizations.
With nearly 400 employees throughout the 28 counties, Catholic Charities Fort Worth serves tens of thousands of people each year through its diverse services, poverty solutions, and income-generating social enterprises.
“There are a 138 Catholic Charities across the United States,” Iglio says, “and we are the most unique.”
Catholic Charities
The National Conference of Catholic Charities is founded in 1910 as “the attorney for the poor.” Among the 400 people present at its first meeting are three instrumental early leaders: Msgr. William J. Kerby, Msgr. John O’Grady and Bishop Thomas J. Shahan.
Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America is a groundbreaking work that analyzed the political and social systems of the U.S. in the early 19th century. Tocqueville, a French political thinker, traveled to America in 1831 to study its form of democracy and provide insights on the strengths and potential weaknesses of democratic systems as a whole.
One of Tocqueville’s takeaways lay in that religion in America, even untethered from the state, thrived here, acting as a stabilizing force for democracy, fostering civic virtue, and providing moral guidance.
If he arrived today then, he’d no doubt observe the correlation of a religious culture that has weakened and the dysfunction of the political culture as naturally proportional.
Who then should be surprised when Christ’s great commandment to love one another, no matter who you are, is washing away as if street chalk after a rain?
In addition to Catholic Charities’ poverty-ending initiatives, the nonprofit also provides affordable dental care, immigration services, and transportation assistance to clients within Tarrant County.
All of that is ultimately to advance stability and self-sufficiency. Who, after all, goes confidently into an interview with unhealthy teeth or gums? Few, if any, is the answer.
But the mission of Catholic Charities has come under attack in the political climate of the day. It’s not necessarily new, the life of immigrants — ask the Irish or the Italians of yesteryear — but Catholic Charities persists because the calling and mission is bigger than the day’s flavor of politics or historic trends.
Those politics, of course, can extend to religion itself. The first and most important rule of Catholic Charities is one does not need to be Catholic to receive the organization’s help or benefits.
Though Catholic Charities Fort Worth serves the 28 counties of the Catholic Diocese of Fort Worth, it is a separate entity.
“We’re our own organization,” says Iglio. “I meet with Bishop [Michael] Olson on a regular basis, but we’re independent. He gives that autonomy to us. He wants to serve the poor and the vulnerable of the community in an impactful way.
“We don’t just serve Catholics. We serve everyone across the diocese. Basic Catholic social teachings are the foundation of our organization, and the first social teaching is that we see the inherent dignity in every single person. We serve them for who they are because Christ is in every one of us.”
Seeing that inherent dignity means the services are client-centered, an acknowledgement that each family’s journey out of poverty is unique. The program helps guide good decision-making. Many clients, after all, didn’t grow up with model exemplars of executive functioning.
The stories of the miracles taking place at Catholic Charities have been told by news outlets, among academics, and even before committees in the United States Congress. But, still, too many across the community don’t know what is happening there.
Hearing of the Padua program, I immediately thought of St. Anthony of Padua, a Portuguese Catholic priest who lived between 1195-1231 and whose life was committed to helping the poor and those in need. In the Roman Catholic Church, he is best known as the patron saint of lost things. However, he is also the patron of lost people.
Lost might be too extreme a descriptor for Blanca and Victor Gutierrez. That they were in need of guidance, there seems to be no doubt.
Today, they sit confidently in front of a camera, poised in both appearance and body language, eager to tell the world about how Catholic Charities Fort Worth’s case-management model changed the direction of their lives to one of hope and expectation.
Blanca entered a nursing program right out of high school, but she stalled because of finances or personal circumstances. There were pregnancies, too. She met Victor in Wichita Falls, and five years later, today, they are married, graduates of the Catholic Charities program and thriving.
“I eventually moved down here, started working in landscaping, and, also, I was a cook for a while,” Victor says into the camera. “That’s when it came about that I wanted to go to school, just to get out of that constant cycle. I felt like I needed to provide more [for his family] than just the basic necessities. What got me to look into the [Catholic Charities] program was we had just had our daughter months prior. I needed to do something other than what I was doing.”
Catholic Charities Fort Worth developed five key “Out of Poverty Pathways” to support individuals in overcoming hardship:
Education: Offering counseling and support for educational milestones.
Emotional Resiliency: Providing counseling referrals, long-term case management, and mental health programs, especially for refugees.
Employment: Assisting with job searches and career coaching to help clients secure and succeed in employment. For example, Victor started as a welder at XCaliber Container and worked his way up to production supervisor.
Financial Resiliency: Teaching financial skills for long-term independence.
Resource Stability: Offering short-term relief, support for new mothers, and comprehensive refugee services. The St. Teresa’s Baby Boutique is a resource where new mothers can pick out clothing for their newborns.
Blanca expected only financial and school support but received so much more, including personal life guidance.
“We still use the budgeting spreadsheet they taught us,” she says. Now, with a master’s degree in nursing and working as a nurse practitioner, Blanca reflects on the program: “A lot of changes.”
Catholic Charities
The work of Catholic Charities goes beyond charity — it’s economic development. They provide much-needed workers for a region in demand.
“We met with Robert Allen, the new CEO of Fort Worth Economic Development, and when we mentioned serving 17,000 clients last year, he heard ‘17,000 workers,’” Iglio says. “We’re seeking partners — corporations, hospital systems — who can help fund programs, and, in turn, we’ll develop a pipeline of workers for them.”
Iglio emphasizes that Catholic Charities isn’t looking for handouts. Instead, they want to build partnerships that add value to the community. One such initiative is Padua, designed by Catholic Charities under former CEO Heather Reynolds (now at Notre Dame’s Lab for Economic Opportunities).
Padua includes a detailed assessment, service plan, small caseloads, case management, and flexible financial resources. The model focuses on partnerships, particularly with local community colleges, to efficiently connect clients to services.
“The campus presidents love us,” Iglio says, noting their partnerships with schools like Tarrant County College. “We provide students with the resources to succeed when life happens, allowing schools to focus on academics while we help with life challenges. Graduation rates are now at 80%, and we have about 1,000 clients on campuses each semester.”
Catholic Charities isn’t handing out scholarships or money; they’re guiding students to make the right decisions and navigate challenges. The goal is to help individuals move from survival jobs to career roles, teaching soft skills that lead to promotions.
As Paul Ryan says, “What the Padua Project is doing is more than just helping people get jobs or improve housing — they’re helping them achieve their God-given potential, building a more just society.”
Michael Iglio has brought much-needed stability to Catholic Charities Fort Worth, following leadership turnover in recent years, including the resignation of CEO Christopher Plumlee two years ago. Iglio, previously COO, stepped into the CEO role in June 2023.
Reflecting on his journey to the organization, Iglio calls it “divine intervention.” Growing up outside San Antonio with a decorated Vietnam veteran father, he studied chemical engineering at Texas A&M. Although he didn’t come from wealth, he was instilled with the belief that he could achieve any goal through hard work, which he demonstrated by putting himself through college.
After starting his career at Frito-Lay, Iglio spent over a decade in various roles, including turning around a troubled plant in Irving. When faced with a promotion at Frito-Lay’s corporate office, he opted instead for a health care company role, avoiding heavy travel that would take him away from his family. He led expansions and increased profitability, but he eventually advised the board that a doctor would better lead the organization. This shift led him to explore the nonprofit world, and a friend’s suggestion introduced him to Catholic Charities.
Iglio became COO in 2020, where he played a leading role in guiding the organization through the pandemic. Under his leadership, Catholic Charities achieved recognition for its company culture, ranked by Gallup Q12 in the top 21st percentile of engaged workplaces worldwide.
“I’ve always focused on the health of the workplace,” Iglio says. “If we’re not strong here, how can we be strong in helping others?”
His passion for fixing root causes as an engineer drives his work at Catholic Charities, especially in tackling poverty. Notre Dame’s validation of the nonprofit’s work through research and study was the tipping point in him taking the job here.
“When I saw the impact, as an engineer, I knew this was it,” Iglio says. “We’re not just offering a handout but a hand up to break the cycle of poverty.”
