I used to work at Microsoft, which was a great place in a lot of ways, but also absolutely riddled with arrogant, abusive men.

One in particular was a brash know-it-all. He once said something so rude and ignorant to me in a meeting I at first thought he was joking.

He was criticizing some content my team had built as silly and embarrassing. It was also the most popular content on the page—he didn't know this, which struck me as an odd failure for the VP in charge of the product.

Fast forward. He became a venture capitalist and I read an article quoting him about the number of cupcake shops in his neighborhood. He questioned why anyone needed them, especially since they'd never be a billion-dollar business.

That's right. You can't make a billion dollars making cupcakes. But what you can make is a neighborhood.

At my local cupcake shop, people from all walks of life gather. The elderly. Startups. Kids from the Black Catholic school around the corner.

Parents pushing strollers. People just arriving at the nearby bus stop. My writers group (and you're invited, anytime).

I've written many books there. Eaten locally made sandwiches and yogurt. Gulped every kind of coffee they offer. Most kinds of tea.

I've lived in my neighborhood for 14 years, and I've spent money at every single store on our commercial strip.

No one has made a billion dollars. But together, we've all made a life. And I'm thinking about it now, as we understand who is doing essential work. It's so rarely the people who are well paid to do so.

You can't eat a billion dollars. You can certainly hoard it.

We've seen too much of that. I am counting on all of us to vote in November, against the interests that have long celebrated the amassing of empty wealth, and instead for the hands that join together to build a meaningful life.

Thanks, @cupcakeroyale, for being part of mine.