When two events are similar and yet we react very differently to them, it’s a big clue. A button we didn’t know we had got pushed.  Do we really encourage earning money?     

AFTER THE LEMONADE STAND

          We definitely want our children to be enterprising, to work, to earn money. We reward attempts in this direction.  Really?  Is that what we do? 

Maybe we should sit on a rock like Winnie the Pooh and think, think, think. 

          We could take a hint from Junior Achievement.  This program helps young people experience entrepreneurial fun.  The important word here is fun. JA’s biggest benefit might be correcting somber, serious attitudes toward making money.  Most parents don’t realize they have these attitudes.

          What I’ve noticed is that a child’s business venture seems exciting to parents the first time only.  We ooh and aah over the lemonade stand and take snapshots for the album.  But then it’s all over.  The next time a child wants to set up a moneymaking venture, parents usually sound like farmers forecasting poor crops.  Take odds that our first words will be warnings about pitfalls (see why people grow up afraid of money?)  Our next words will be about how proud we are that our child is about to do all that hard work that never hurt anybody (see why people grow up unaware that making money is fun?)  Zap.  You can almost feel the frozen ground getting ready to spit out the bitter harvest!

          A little contrast, please. Think how we act when our children set out to play baseball or take dancing lessons or cheerlead, learn an instrument, play chess, or get a library card.  Almost any non-moneymaking activity will light our fire.  Our eyes shine and we start budgeting some of OUR time and OUR money.  We create a “joint venture,” picking up that batting glove or piece of sheet music on the way home.  And our forecasts are sunny.  “Wow, I had more fun the year I was on the basketball team,” or “You can’t beat the feeling of making music together in a group.”  We are willing to arrange rides for practices and we want to hear any details the child is willing to share.  No one ever says, “This baseball thing is your responsibility.  It’s up to you to figure out how to get there.”  They might, wisely, require that the child earn a little of the money spent on equipment, but few parents would ever tell the child,  “Don’t expect me to get involved – this is your project.”

            Now I’m wise to my old attitude, and I don’t believe making money has to be treated differently from other ventures.  Why not buy a shiny little cash box or a pad of receipts as a celebration present?  An attractive book for notes on customers is instruction without talking – always a worthy goal.  Why not mention at once some fun we had on a job?  Why don’t we offer time, say, setting up a simple spreadsheet with our son or daughter?   Why not put aside a special notebook for the phone calls we volunteer to take when the child is not at home?  We need to do something (almost anything) to show that we’re excited about this new idea.  Pitfall talk can be postponed and talked about casually as a natural part of what “we” deal with in business, not any more dire than errors in baseball or false notes in music.  Is there a living parent who would immediately mention errors or sour notes when a child expressed  interest in baseball or music?

            We’ve been brainwashed.  Those “filthy lucre” attitudes are lurking down deep, like “there’s something not so attractive about wanting money.”   But we needn’t be horrified that a small portion of our gray matter has been rinsed and starched. We can allow for it, disregard our feelings of doom and get creative.  We can lighten up and have some giggles.  If our pride and joy is planning a dog walking business, we can buy those wonderful poop-scoop bags and say, “When you’re a grown-up rich woman, you can tell people your very first backer fronted you a case of Poopee Scoopees!”