On Privilege

Today, I came upon this amazing post by TiredButHappy. In my recent reading of personal finance blogs, I've met so many people who've built their own financial lives from scratch. Almost everyone has student loan payments to factor into their monthly budgets, even the ones free from credit-card debt payments (often on debt incurred on college expenses). This is true of many of my friends, as well, but it's not true for me. My parents paid for all four years of my private education (and private elementary school before I got into a fancy public high school). They didn't qualify for financial aid, and they didn't just pay my tuition and fees--they paid for rent, groceries, books, even the odd beer here and there. When I worked in college, I pocketed the entire paycheck, free and clear. I didn't live high, or anything--my rent was cheap and I shopped at Safeway, not Whole Foods, and at secondhand clothing stores--but I was still going to the movies sometimes, buying clothes, buying cocktails and occasional concert tickets and late-night sodas and all the rest. I often felt guilty as I watched my roommate argue with herself over asking her dad for rent money or a friend put a car repair on her credit card. I knew I had it easy. And at graduation, my generous aunt sent a check for $2,000 that covered the broker's fee and security deposits on my new apartment--not a penny of that money came out of my own pocket. My great-aunt's savings bonds and my parents' gift of money from the sale of assets in my name let me live through the summer while job-hunting in a leisurely way that let me find the job I really wanted, as opposed to the first one I could get. In short, this September was really the beginning of my adult financial life. So many people have had to begin so much younger, responsible for their own living costs, or responsible for enormous educational debts--I have had the luxury of not thinking about any of that.

I have had it easy. The first time I realized the extent to which my privilege provides a substantive financial advantage was when I decided to buy a 1-year CD with the money I'd saved from my paychecks in school. A friend with whom I discussed it brought up lack of liquidity as a concern, and I realized with a start that that's not really a concern for me. If I had, say, a medical emergency while my money was tied up in a CD, my parents would cover the cost. They might not even want me to pay them back when my money was freed up, but they certainly wouldn't charge interest. My money could earn a higher interest rate without any significant drawbacks. That's a real advantage, a quantifiable one, one as tangible as the fact that I can save the money that I would otherwise have to put towards student loan payments--or I can spend it. There's more flex in my budget and in my life.

I guess what I want to say is that I am grateful for the gifts given me, the opportunities and advantages, and I am positively in awe of the people who've done it for themselves, from scratch. Single Ma just blows me away--she's fought singlehandedly (no pun intended!) for every one of her financial and personal achievements, all the while retaining her principles and priorities. Her daughter is mighty lucky--I can't imagine getting a greater gift from a parent than that kind of determined love and dedication.

I'll never be able to give myself all the credit for any financial success I achieve, and I guess in some ways I'm grateful I don't have to. That's why my parents worked hard all their lives (especially my dad, who's a second-generation immigrant who grew up in a Brooklyn tenement)--so I wouldn't have to think about the cost of my dream college or worry about student loan payments, or take a job I didn't like. It's why self-made personal finance bloggers work and save and strive--to better their own lives and the lives of their children. The children who have been given these gifts should not regret them. I don't mean that we shouldn't consider the impact of our privilege on our lives, and on our culture. But the gifts given us were meant--the gifts given me were meant, and lovingly. I can't turn them down--I couldn't even if I wanted to, and I don't. I can, however, be grateful for the help I've received, and be responsible morally as well as financially in the ways I use my money. I can give my parents a daughter they can be proud of, and I can try to give something back to my society, and, if I have children, I can give them the very best of all the important things--books, and experience, and education, and principles.