Read an Excerpt
At 21 years old I was a first-generation college graduate with not one… but two degrees; yet everything I knew about money could fit on an index card. Three years later, when I attempted to buy a house, I quickly learned everything I actually knew about money could be summed up on a single post-it.
As a Haitian American woman, former New York City high school teacher, and self-proclaimed wanderlust I can 100% say I have lived and have the stories to prove it. Taking public transportation in New York City alone, has provided me with an ample supply of “you won’t believe what I just saw” moments for a lifetime. I jumped out of a plane, wrote an award-winning web series, visited 16 countries, traveled to 25 states, bought a house, and paid off $100,000 dollars in student loan debt, all before 35 years old.
Of all the unique things about me, my lack of financial literacy, was not one of them. According to the 2014 S&P Global Financial Literacy Survey, only 57% of US adults are financially literate. For a very long time, I was a part of the 43% of people navigating my finances, without an understanding of the four basic financial concepts assessed in the survey: risk diversification, numeracy, inflation, and compound interest.
In 2013 I tried to buy a house with $0 dollars in emergency savings, and no idea how to calculate my net worth. The realtor, who lives rent free in my mind might I add, deflated that fairytale rather quickly, “Your debt-to-income ratio is too high, you won’t be pre-approved for more.” Did I know what “debt to income ratio” meant? No! Was I furious that he wouldn’t help me get pre-approved for a million dollars to buy the house of my dreams… YES! Talk about being completely out of touch with my financial reality.
Unfortunately, I am not alone in this. You’ve probably heard some version of the widespread Jim Rohn quote, “we are the average of the five people we spend the most time with.” My Biggie vs. 2pac, Mr. Belding vs. Mr. Feeny, stoop kids afraid to leave the stoop, Myspace top 8, Harry Potter obsessed ass fell right into the law of averages as expected. While I like to think I have a diverse collection of dope ass people in my inner and extended circle, the fact remains that none of my friends knew anything substantial about money either.
My two brothers and I grew up in a Black household, and not just any Black household, a Caribbean household. This came with its own set of rules and ideologies that superseded common law in traditional Black households. If you got a 99 on a test… the first question was always, “What happened to the other point?” The second question, “Who got the highest grade in the class?” You’re at a large gathering? Every elder in the room must be greeted with the standard kiss on the cheek, because in some way shape or form they are related to you, even if they are not. Sleepovers… not an option.
Even with rules that were stricter than necessary and utterly ridiculous justifications, my brothers and I had a great childhood. We were blessed with two hard working immigrant parents who focused on providing their children with as many experiences and opportunities they never had. They gave us all the comforts they could afford and enjoyed watching us pursue whatever we dreamed of. And I seriously mean whatever we dreamed of. My 26-year-old brother has been deejaying since he was 9 years old, and my father bought him his first turntables from a discount aftermarket electronic store on Jamaica Ave.
All they asked in return was for us to be good people and do well in school. My parents created an environment that allowed for academic success and encouraged open dialogue. We were always told to use our heads to make calculated smart decisions. So, you can imagine how embarrassed I was during my first week in college after over drafting my account buying Coach sneakers at the mall.
You would think I had more sense. Despite what my mom may humorously tell you, I was a parent’s teenage dream. I’m the girl who convinced my first boss to hire me and five of my friends as camp counselors, even after I wasn’t initially offered the job. I lived off Pringles and water my entire Senior year so I could save to buy an iPod touch and pay for my own prom dress. I balanced extracurricular activities, a strenuous course load, and graduated with a 5.0 GPA. There was no way I should be over drafting my account to buy sneakers because I just simply had to know better. So I tucked my tail between my legs, asked my dad to borrow $70 dollars to bring my account out of the red and vowed to make better money decisions.
That vow lasted all of 6 months. After securing my first campus job in the Spring, I ended up on academic probation. This meant my $7,500 merit scholarship, the one I earned with a stellar high school academic record, was about to be snatched away. I was mortified. Not only did my GPA drop below a 3.0, but I also now had to figure out what I was going to do to come up with another $7,500 dollars to cover more of tuition I already couldn’t afford.
I come from a supporting and loving family. What I don’t come from, is a family rolling in dough. For all intents and purposes, I would never classify my family as poor. For most of my childhood and adolescence we were a 2-income middle earning family. We were “too wealthy” to receive government assistance, but just broke enough to live paycheck to paycheck. This is no anomaly. As of January 2022, 64% of middle income earners making between $50,000 and $100,000 a year are living paycheck to paycheck. It doesn’t stop there, the 50%-90% percentile of Americans also carry about 7.3 trillion dollars in debt as of December 2021.
America runs on Dunkin’ and debt, and so did we. It’s a precarious act to balance, so it is no surprise that we were always one big emergency away from financial ruin. Adding another $7,500 dollars to the subtraction column of the budget wasn’t an option my parents could take on. And at $7.15 per hour, neither could I.
The average 18-year-old today could come up with 5 different side hustles to help supplement some extra cash. The average 18-year-old in 2007 was drafting a dramatic away message on their T-Mobile sidekick. Me... I was that 18-year-old. I was scared, confused, and mostly embarrassed yet again.
Thankfully, I got my shit together just enough to keep my scholarship. In true dramatic Leo fashion, I overcompensated for my initial failures and took 18 credits a semester, went to school year-round, and bodied a 22-credit summer. All of this to complete my Bachelor’s and Master’s program at the same time. Honestly, I just wanted to give my parents extra bragging points at the family gatherings. I loved hearing them speak about me to their friends, because they did it with their whole chest. They were proud parents, and you couldn’t tell them anything.
On paper I was a West Indian success story. I earned two degrees, secured a full-time teaching job right out of college, and paid my bills on time. All that was left to accomplish was to buy a house, get married, and have 2.5 kids. That would truly be the definitive moment where I could say I finally achieved the American Dream. And I wanted it all by 25.
Why? Because when you turn 25, you realize you’re halfway to 30. If you’re halfway to 30, you’re damn near 50. And there was no way I could justify sneaking out of my parent’s house at night to go have sex in my car at 50. My joints just weren’t up for the job anymore.
In all seriousness, when my mom was 25 she was already a wife and a mother. By the time she was 30, she was a mother of 3. Though she never explicitly pressured me to follow in her footsteps, the silent societal pressures were just enough to make me feel like I was 10 steps behind everyone else.
So I put on my big girl pants, called a real estate agent, and learned a crucial lesson that day. I didn’t know SHIT about money. I like to call that chapter in my life, delusions of grandeur, because I didn’t know the first, second or third thing about buying a house. When the agent asked me how much I saved for a down payment versus how much I saved for closing costs, my silence was immediately telling. The immediate answer was shame. The follow up was not enough. If I told you my checking account had more than $2,000 dollars in it at the time, I’d be lying to you and myself. I was in no position to buy anything substantial, especially not a huge financial responsibility like as a house.
As someone who is rarely ever stubborn, I pressed on anyway. The preapproval process was even more embarrassing. I was approved for a $100,000 dollar mortgage. Similarly, to the housing market today, NYC was experiencing a severely overpriced seller’s market in 2013. The median sale price increased 5.6% and hovered around $227,000 dollars. That $100,000 dollar preapproval wasn’t going to get me very far. My immediate thought was, “Am I supposed to get a Barbie house with this?”, but my actual response went a lot more like this, “Why so low? I pay all of my bills.” If he could respectfully laugh in that moment, I’m sure he would have. I would have too. “Your debt-to-income ratio is too high, you have a lot of student loans”. Of course I do! Who doesn’t? What I didn’t see, is what he was seeing. He encouraged me to reach out to my loan provider and discuss options with them to help decrease my debt in order to have a better chance of getting approved for more money. The American way. Pay off some debt, so you can have space to take on more debt. It just makes sense doesn’t it?
Was I disappointed? Absolutely. But that moment really did change my life and my financial trajectory. It’s a big part of why I’m here writing this book for you. That moment forced me to start asking questions. Those questions led to answers that to led even more questions. If it weren’t for that hard no, I would have never known that while I was out here frolicking, my student loan debt was ballooning. I learned about the fancy terms, the systems, accounts, and processes from people who were tone deaf to the realities of the world.
The nice, polished version of my story goes a little something like this. I paid off $102,000 dollars in student loan on a teacher salary. Over the course of 9 years, I have gone from a negative net worth to a net worth of nearly $500,000 dollars. A picture perfect started from the bottom now we’re here storyline. No Ivey league education, no trust funds, no high paying job. Just a first-generation Black girl figuring it out on her own.
And I don’t want that for you. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I want you to be filthy stinking rich. Beyond rich, I want you and your entire bloodline to be wealthy AF. I want you checking in on your 6-figure portfolio, from a tropical island of your choosing. But I don’t want you to figure it out on your own. I don’t want you to do it like me, I want you to do it ten times better. That is what this book aims to do. Give you the tools, foundation, and support you need to manage your money better than the people writing books about money.
You’re getting the cheat code. This book is written from me to you, to remind you that you don’t have to feel ashamed or embarrassed by your financial mistakes. And as you’ve read so far, I’ve made quite a few. They do not define you or your financial outcome.
This book is deeply rooted in supporting your financial journey. My mission was to create a safe space for you to navigate through the financial concepts that are often purposely made difficult to understand. There’s plenty of gatekeeping in finance, and there will be none of that here. From sinking funds to investing strategies, I’ve laid it all out for you in a way that is manageable and approachable wherever you are in your finance journey.
Although I have learned a lot about money, it was very rarely if ever by anyone who looked or sounded like me. It never felt like my intersectionality was acknowledged in big conversations or addressed in financial policies. Most discourse centered around having money or not having money. You were either financially literate or you weren’t. I sure as hell never felt like I would ever have a seat at the fancy finance
table. So future millionaire hear me when I say, this book is for the culture. The fact that you have a copy in your hands right now, means it is the table. So, pull up and grab a seat.
