| I’m not sure who’s more excited about Sawyer doing so well at her weekend waitressing job at P. F. Chang’s, me for how she’s balancing her college classes with working, or her because she’s making good money. |
| I am impressed that she plans to save most of it so that she has a nest egg when she graduates. Too bad you did not have the same understanding of money when you were her age. Or, even when you were in your 20s or 30s. |
| You’re never going to let me forget that, are you? I can’t help that I found personal finance intimidating, so avoided it. Plus, it’s confusing. And tedious. And boring. |
| That is one way to look at it – but as you eventually learned, if you can add and subtract, you can “do” personal finance. But, you have made significant progress. You used to kick and scream about it; now you just whine. |
| Fine, but just because I now have a better understanding of personal finance, it doesn’t make it any more interesting. But just like brushing my teeth, I know it’s something I need to do because not doing it has repercussions. |
| Great analogy, especially as personal finance is important for everyone. |
| But just because something’s important doesn’t mean “everyone” wants to know about it, or do it. For years, we’ve been saying that people would rather be entertained than educated. |
|
I will never forget how
surprised I was that our book,
which was supposed to be the basis of a sitcom, ended up being a powerful way
to “teach” personal finance and other life lessons. I envisioned people enjoying
the sisterly banter and
all the other “characters”, so was focused on them, not the subject matter. |
| Yes, while I was focused on my personal crisis, you were busy turning it into a book – a brand – a business. |
| Once I realized that the most successful sitcoms were about relationships and basic day-to-day living, it seemed logical to use your financial predicament as the backdrop. It was never intended as a “laugh and learn”. |
|
Well, “I Love Lucy” never did an episode on her trying to understand
financial statements. And I doubt “Seinfeld” or “Friends” ever talked
about credit cards. |
| Missed opportunities. Think about our “Assets and Liabilities” story. You started freaking out at the mere mention of financial statements. Telling me how I was the MBA and you were the theater major. Then, when I thought I was making it easier by focusing on assets and liabilities, you completely lost it. Insisting you could not do this. Complaining that you hated math. Your theatrics alone would make it a funny scene. |
| Thanks. Happy to help! |
| Then, when I simplified it and said I wanted to talk about “what you own” versus “what you owe,” you calmed down. And, much to my amusement, you then declared that you could do that, just not assets and liabilities. |
| How was I supposed to know they were the same thing? |
|
The point is that it is a funny story. And one that many people
seem to enjoy, as many people can relate to
being intimidated by terminology. |
| That, and thinking that understanding, let alone “doing”, personal finance requires an MBA. Let’s face it, by creating mental roadblocks, I became my own worst enemy. |
| That is an understatement. But, that “character flaw” can lead to an assortment of amusing episodes. As does thinking that just having more money was the answer, not realizing the key was how you handled the money you had. That having more might mean larger mistakes. |
| Is this where you’re going to tell me about all the celebrities, athletes, and lottery winners who made (or won) millions, but ended up broke or in bankruptcy? I still love how you use Nicholas Cage and his purchase of two ‒ not one, but two ‒ castles to make that point! |
| If these people understood the basics of personal finance, they would have made very different decisions. It is as simple as money coming in and money going out. I guess no one asked them if they could add and subtract. |
| The first time you asked me that, I thought it was just another one of your sarcastic remarks. And whenever we tell that to people, whether an auditorium full of eighth-graders or one person in a business meeting, they always laugh. |
| I miss doing speaking engagements. I loved asking people how many like math. Everyone would look around to see who the nerds in the room were. Then when I asked how many like money, everyone’s hands went up. It is all in the packaging. |
| Which is why I’d love to circle back to the sitcom idea. But how do we get Hollywood to see that a sitcom about personal finance and other Life 101 topics could be successful? And funny! |
| Easy. By not telling them. We focus on the characters that are resonating with audiences of all ages ‒ a warm and fuzzy stay-at-home mom and her pragmatic and sarcastic retired executive sister who races Ferraris, who are surrounded by an assortment of other “characters”. |
| So, just totally ignore the “laugh and learn”. |
| When I first envisioned your crisis as a sitcom, I saw it as something to be disclosed on a need-to-know basis, and at the time, you did not need to know. This is no different. |
| Now that’s funny. |
Want to read other columns? Here's a list.
It's a running joke in my family that the only reason I go to the movies is for the popcorn. And while that isn't 100% true, it's probably close, as I can't remember a time when popcorn wasn't an essential part of the experience.
I can still remember seeing Mel Brooks' "Young Frankenstein" when it was first released (in 1974) at the Massapequa movie theater, which was literally at one end of an old strip shopping center. It bore no resemblance to today's multiplex cinemas, and the concession stand offerings were very limited. It was dark and a bit dingy, and the seats were old and uncomfortable. But I didn't care because the popcorn more than made up for it. And while I sat through multiple showings of the movie (it's still one of my favorites), I was grateful my dad had given me enough money to buy multiple popcorns, as in those days there was no such thing as the big bucket, let alone free refills.
Fast forward, and some things never change...
First, I ask them to fill the large bucket "really high, please, I haven't eaten all day, and I'm starving." Ok, so I probably did eat earlier, but I need an excuse for asking for a ridiculous amount of popcorn, don't I? Which takes me to the next part of my routine. If the bucket's filled to the point of overflowing, I know exactly the pace to eat it so that it lasts for almost the entire movie. (Trust me, I'm not kidding!) And then, the final part of the routine … I don't start eating my popcorn until the movie begins. Not the coming attractions— the movie. (Unlike Black, who races to finish her small size popcorn by the time the movie starts as if it's something to be ticked off a "to do" list.)
So, think what you will, but for me, the popcorn's a critical part of what makes going to the movies so enjoyable. And has become an amusing memory for my youngest daughter and me, as many years ago, when we were in the concession stand line, she asked me what size popcorn I was getting,
I love you, honey, and you're so smart, but that may be the silliest question you've ever asked me. And, quite possibly, will ever ask me.
To this day, she still remembers it, and although she no longer lives at home, when she hears that I’ve gone to the movies, she’ll jokingly ask me what size popcorn I got. And in the same breath, answer the question. Because she knows that there’s only one answer.The biggest bucket available.
Every time we see the photo above of our "guinea pigs", it brings back such fond memories. You may be thinking, "What? Are they calling those students guinea pigs?!" Well, actually, yes. And before you think ill of us, please know that we use the term with great affection, deep gratitude, and utmost respect. And these eight amazing seniors from the Class of 2010 know that's our nickname for them because ...
We started calling them our "Guinea Pigs" as soon as they volunteered to help us develop our Red & Black Personal Finance and Life 101 program at KIPP Houston High School. It was important that they knew this was truly an “experiment”, as neither one of us was a teacher or a financial expert.
It all started at our first speaking engagement, when during Q&A a woman asked why the topics in our book weren’t taught in school. The next thing we knew, we were sitting in the office of Bryan Contreras, Director of KIPP Through College, and being asked not only to develop, but also to teach, a semester-long personal finance and Life 101 course to their high school seniors. During their spring semester. (Yes, the months right before they graduate.) While Red looked like a deer in headlights (we barely considered ourselves authors, let alone teachers), Black responded as she often does, with a simple:
Sure, not a problem.
While Red went home to carpool and baking cookies, Black did what she does best — use her corporate and business experience to tackle the challenge. So, she requested a "task force" of seniors to help us develop the curriculum because, as she put it:
If it is not relevant, why bother? And, who knows best what is relevant to high school seniors? High school seniors.
Black introduced them to the business concept of a working lunch (which might also be considered a pizza bribe), and we met for five Fridays. We gave them a list of select book excerpts they were expected to read each week so we could discuss what they thought should be included in the curriculum. That first week, they seemed motivated to help — but we weren't sure what to expect.
They came back excited and totally committed, with two of them having read the entire book and the rest having read much more than the assigned excerpts. Luckily, Red had been a straight-A, copious note-taking student. However, she could barely keep up with their comments and feedback, let alone the side discussions generated by the conversations in our book. You could see their interest in personal finance (and many other Life 101 topics) was strong and genuine, and they explained that learning from the mistakes of others was extremely powerful. One student, after prefacing his comment with apologies, stated:
When I grow up, I don't want to be Red.
We'll always be indebted to our Guinea Pigs for their enthusiasm and suggestions, as using our book as the textbook was their idea, not ours. And through their feedback on the book and the lessons they were already learning from it, which began at those pizza lunches, the answer to how best to "teach" a Red & Black class was obvious to them. It was as simple as a book club. For us, it took a little longer to come to that realization as we were hampered by our own preconceived notions about how lessons are taught in a classroom. So, although the initial intent may have been for us to be the teachers and them to be the students... we learned from each other.
P.S. – For those of you interested in a more "educational" look at our detour into the world of education, including "feedback" (student quotes, Black's "non-scientific" surveys, and KIPP press releases) from our two spring semesters when we "taught" at KIPP Houston High School, please check out An Unexpected Education Detour ...
Red loves to stop and reminisce. Black prefers to look forward.
But even Black will admit that sometimes there’s value in looking back — it reminds us where we came from, the detours and roadblocks we have managed to navigate, and that we may be stronger and more capable than we give ourselves credit for. Sometimes, it’s a lesson learned. Sometimes, it’s a memory that reminds us what’s truly important.
But Black has one caveat (and it's one of her favorite car analogies) …
If you decide to look back, keep it in perspective. There's a reason why windshields are so much larger than rearview mirrors.
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