Childhood Money Memories, Part II
On Thursday, I wrote about my first money memories and how they may have affected the way I handle money today. I found that I was pretty oblivious about money as a child, even though my grandparents distinctly remember me telling them as a 2- or 3-year-old that “Daddy works to buy me gum.”
I had always thought my family was rich because we had a swimming pool, but around eigth grade, I started seeing little signs that my parents might actually be in debt. Here are some of my money memories from eighth grade through high school:
In eighth or ninth grade, I won second place in an Optimist essay contest on “Freedom: A Right or a Privilege?” (I think I said it was a right - after all, I felt entitled to pretty much everything). I needed something to wear to the awards ceremony, so my mom took me to The Jones Store to get a new shirt. She usually steered me in the direction of the sales rack, but on this day, I picked out a $30 long-sleeved ribbed Levi’s shirt with silver buttons. My mom said, “$30 is kind of expensive for a shirt. Are you sure you want it?” Of course, I said I had to have it. But after the awards ceremony, I noticed that it didn’t fit quite right - the sleeves were too long, it was a little too tight, etc., and I didn’t really like it. But I kept wearing it so my mom wouldn’t know. Even today, I have a hard time parting with clothes I spent too much money on. There has been a $140 J. Crew dress hanging in my closet for at least three years that I’ve never worn because it doesn’t fit quite right (it’s going in the garage sale).
For Easter, my sister and I always got a new dress to wear to church. One year, I needed new shoes to wear with my dress, but my mom told me we could only buy them if we got them at Sears. I believe now (and I think realized back then, because I felt really guilty about those shoes) that this was because her other department store cards were maxed out.
My junior year of high school, my mom took me shopping for a prom dress (yes, my mom took me shopping a lot). I chose a long, black velvet dress with an empire waist and a sheer black overlay from Dillards for $120. I remember that when we came back home, my mom hung it up in my closet, took off the price tags and told me that my dad didn’t need to know how much it cost. I took this as a lesson from my mom that men don’t understand how much it costs for women to look good (somewhat true), and that my dad is cheap (he is). At least I recognize now that hiding purchases from your spouse is not a good idea (although it is tempting).
My family hosted a foreign exchange student from France for a month when I was 16. That fall, I got a part-time job at the grocery store and began saving money so I could stay with her family the following summer. I saved enough money to cover everything except the $800 plane ticket, so my parents let me borrow the money. When I returned home, I found out the money I had borrowed actually came from my grandparents - my parents had borrowed it from them. I repaid my grandparents, but I felt guilty about it and surprised that my parents didn’t have $800 in the bank. I never asked to borrow money from my parents again.
I have always wanted to live in Chicago, so my junior year, my mom took me there to visit colleges. We went to the University of Chicago and Northwestern, and I fell in love with Northwestern (I didn’t think the University of Chicago seemed like a very fun place because students were outside studying on a Friday evening - shouldn’t they be drinking beer or something?). My parents had never talked to me about paying for college - I just assumed that if I got good grades and test scores, I could get a full-ride scholarship anywhere I wanted. My bubble was quickly burst when I found out Northwestern cost $30,000 per year and didn’t offer academic scholarships. Needless to say, I ended up going to My State U.
My parents made too much money for me to qualify for need-based scholarships or grants, but I had enough merit-based scholarships to cover my base tuition. When we met with the university’s financial aid department, they said that with my scholarships and my parents’ expected contribution (based on some kind of formula), there was only about an $800 shortage per year, and they suggested that my parents find a way to come up with the extra money instead of taking out a loan. Somehow, I left the financial aid office with the maximum allowable student loan. And that, my friends, is where my journey into debt began.
Photo Credit: 1974-12 by jacdupree, used under Creative Commons licensing
