Childhood money making: a challenging but valuable experience

Graphic by Angela Tan

I was always thrilled to receive $20 on my birthday.

At the moment I gained consciousness, I almost immediately grasped the value of money. $2.50 could buy me a scoop of ice cream at the Baskin Robbins nearby, $15 could purchase a cute stuffed animal from Toys R Us and a couple hundred dollars could pay the water and electricity bills — although that last one didn’t matter as much to me.

My earliest source of “income” was getting money from my grandparents. During their yearly visits from China or Malaysia, I always counted on discovering lucky red envelopes tucked away in their bags. As their visits became less frequent, I turned to my parents: the keepers of my finances and my source of more crisp dollar bills.

In elementary school, I began asking for an allowance because all my friends had one. My mom and I bargained a deal of $10 per month if I completed my daily responsibilities of practicing piano, washing the dishes, doing homework and completing Chinese lessons. 

This system, easily used as leverage, had a severe downside for me: My mom would threaten to deduct my allowance whenever we argued. More often than not, my entire $10 would be zapped away by one explosive argument, and my motivation for the week would disappear with it.

In fourth grade, I got smarter and asked to be paid for babysitting my younger siblings. This was my ultimate power move because I had two mischievous younger brothers who nagged my mom all day. If I worked enough hours a day, I could quickly earn HUNDREDS of dollars! 

To my dismay, my mom was not so generous and offered me a measly $1 per hour instead. She reasoned that, as an older sister, I should be taking care of my brothers free of charge — my $1 per hour was simply a charity bonus. 

After only a few weeks on the job, the pay being embarrassingly below minimum wage and the horrific working conditions (tantrums and physical attacks from my brothers) left me no choice but to quit the job.

By middle school, I was tired of feeling as if I was being scammed by my own parents. I even considered flying a solo trip back to my grandparents’ houses and begging for money. However, there was one source of income that I could still depend on to stock up my wallet: birthday and Christmas money. 

This was my favorite money-earning system yet. For each birthday and Christmas, my parents let me decline a gift and receive $20 in cash instead. It’s like when someone gives you a gift you secretly hate, but they include a gift receipt so you can go back to the store and exchange it for something else. 

I fully believed I was cheating the system because even if I skipped out on a gift from my parents, I could still get gifts from my birthday parties. With delight, I routinely accepted the $20 alternative and spared my parents the effort of finding me gifts. By the end of middle school, I had saved more than $120, and nothing made me more proud than my bulging wallet.

Strangely, I loved saving money despite never having the opportunities to spend it. My parents only bought needs and rarely wants, so even if I wanted to buy a few stickers or pens on Amazon, I still had to pass through their financial judging process. I saved money for the purpose of buying something I would want in the future, and I often wondered if I would eventually save enough to pay my own college tuition. 

Now that I’m in high school (and free of all my allowance systems), I have more freedom with where I can go and what I can spend money on, but my younger experiences keep me careful with how frequently I swipe my credit card and only enjoy occasional splurges on boba or lunch with my friends. 

My parents’ frugality taught me to see the importance of money, a value that will stick with me through college and beyond. Even if I have savings and purchases I impulsively want, I would rather invest in something that is truly important to me, even if I don’t yet know what that is.