Mo Money

If there one thing that I’ve had to battle constantly in my life – its money.  We were not always foes –in fact when I was a kid, we were the best of buds.  If someone gave me a dollar, it was like I suddenly had power.  I could go out on my own and buy things –even if it was a soda and a candy bar – it was still my choice and my dollar.   I remember the thrill of handing that money to the cashier at Buy-Rite or Sentry Drugs and getting my things put into a bag and then getting of all things – change!  Change to either save or use to purchase something else another day.   Oh, the feeling of financial freedom – the feeling of being a customer!  The money would change form, it would ebb and flow, but it was there to help you get things that you needed or wanted.   You have to admit – that’s one hell of a friend.  When I was 10 or 11, there was no job to worry about, no mortgage to pay, no utilities, no credit card bills, no student loans, just the exhilaration of being a pure consumer.   When my dad would lie on the floor and change would bleed out of his pockets, us kids would circle like sharks going for chum. Once he got up, we made a mad dash because most of the time, the change was there for the taking.   I remember thinking that shiny pennies were like manna from heaven.  They were these perfect spots of change – more sparkly then their friends the dimes, nickels, quarters and half dollars.   Just seeing one as a kid made me so damn happy – it was like I was the first person to send this little coin on its long trip through the financial waters of our economy – where it would get used and tarnished.  I still smile when I get a shiny penny because it’s money in its simplest and purest form.

Growing up, my family was middle to lower middle class.  There were five kids in the family and it never felt like we wanted for much but I knew there were times my parents were really struggling.   During the recession of the 1970’s, there were gas lines, and boycotts of lettuce and ground beef because the prices were so high.   Much like today, people were hurting.   Saying that you couldn’t afford something was not something to be ashamed of – it was a fact and the reality was that many people had to cut back to make ends meet.   Good God, interest rates on home loans were 19% - that’s not an interest rate – that’s loan sharking!  You would see episodes on All in the Family about how they had to cut back and it made you feel a little better about where you were.  If Archie, Edith, Michael and Gloria had to eat spaghetti with just tomato sauce for the fourth night in a row, then maybe sausage noodle casserole twice a week was not so bad.  The emphasis on designer jeans had not hit until I was in high school and things then were a bit better for my parents. Even though I could have asked for them, I always thought it was stupid to pay so much more for a label that you wore on your jeans like Calvin Klein or Jordache.  You were paying the designers more money to wear their label on the pocket to promote their product?  Really!?   The fact that nothing came between Brooke Shields and her Calvins was a bit gross.  I even did a song for the school talent show lampooning designer duds.  Shabby chic and the Annie Hall look were fun, cheaper and way more comfortable then really, really tight jeans.

When I was a junior at Southwest Senior High, my first job was to work at Publix Supermarkets and I got paid $3.10 per hour minimum wage in 1980.  I would work 12 hours on Saturday and then another 12 hours during the week.   I was so disciplined that I would take out $20 per paycheck for spending money and put the rest of the bank.  I was tough keeping my grades up and working that much and sometimes I felt really burned out but I was able to save close to $3,000 to go to college with which my father matched.  I had a really nice bank account and a chance to study at Florida State University – so now me and my besty money were together to set the world on fire. 

So how did my elation about money turn to so much anxiety as an adult?  Why do I spend so much time worrying about it?   Probably when I had the responsibility of actually paying for things on my own.  I was able to go two years without working and living on what I had saved in college.  I was living in a dorm which my parents paid for and I just needed money for food, going out and clothes.  I didn’t even have a car that first year so I didn’t have to pay for gas and at FSU – most things that you needed were within walking distance of the campus.   But then I wanted to move out of the dorms and live in an apartment and have a car – so things got more complicated financially.  Money was tighter and I needed to go back to working – this time waiting tables.   I began to worry about money especially when my roommate was consistently late with her share of the rent.  One time she wrote me a bad check which then made me bounce checks which sucked.   Money wasn’t there as a sure fire friend – sometimes I could depend on it and sometimes I couldn’t.  It was very unreliable.  Worse, I would get tight feelings in the pit of my stomach wondering how I would pay for things.   I could no longer take it for granted and maybe that was money’s payback. 

When Max and I got married, we were worried about money but we always seemed to get by and we were both working.  Except for the time when we won a lawsuit about six years into our marriage, we were always just scraping by and if we came up short, we would ask my parents for help which they were always willing to do.  I hated asking for help but my parents were always nice and understanding about it.  We actually moved up to Georgia in 1998 with the lawsuit money and bought a house.  At that point, I decided to take a year off from working to spend more time with Amber who was just a toddler.   It was weird not working.  I didn’t feel like I had an identity and as much as I loved spending time with Amber – I longed for adult conversation during the day and something do to that was not focused around when the Teletubbies came on.   The money would not hurt either as the lawsuit money was beginning to run out- another ebb and flow that my friend money was all too often prone to.

So I went back to work doing what I did best - working for non-profits.  The kind of organizations who have very little disposable income.  The kind who are dependent on government agencies, grantors and kind benefactors to get their funding.  That’s how I’ve lived the bulk of my financial life so I’m comfortable with organizations that just pray that a big grant or check comes in just in time.  I’ve worked for international agencies and know that money does not come easily to some parts of the world –where  so many people are just getting by on $1 to $2 per day, no clean water and terrible medical conditions.  In this country, we spend $5 on Starbucks when that would feed a family of four for a day in other parts of the world.   Hey I’m not knocking loving your Mocha Light Grande or your tall Salted Caramel Frappanchino – I’m just pointing out that there are people in this world that would do more with that $5 then get a java buzz.

In the 20 years that I’ve worked for non-profits and I’ve gotten to know some really wealthy donors.   Some are real down-to-earth type of people who would give you the clothes off their backs to help.  They understand the mission of the charities that they are trying to help.  They have a real desire to make a difference in the lives of the people that you are working with.  It makes raising money so easy because it’s not a donation – it’s an investment in the social cause they are passionate about.  Those are my favorite type of donors – they are not pushovers but they know how their money can help and ask you directly what you need.  There are those that write the checks to get their names on things or to be recognized.   They are still doing good with their money even if it’s just for the recognition- it doesn’t matter because in the end they are helping your cause.  Then there are the ones who use their donations or promise of donations to manipulate the organization to do things their way.  Those are the donors that use their money to hurt – not to help.   That’s the side of money that I really hate to see.   How many times have you heard about a donor at a major university that donated millions of dollars to build a building but reneged because they weren’t happy with a campus’ stance on gay rights, or the use of the medical building for something like stem cell research, or an editorial in the school newspaper that they didn’t agree with.   Sure, the fundraising department probably needed to spell things out little clearer for that donor, but sometimes there’s just the unforeseen.  When a donor takes back a donation or pledge - it’s obvious they never really had the institution’s best interests at heart to begin with – it was all ego.    

I’ve seen donors dangle even something as small as $5,000 or $10,000 donations to try to get what they want.   You jump through hoop upon hoop to never see the donation or maybe a $1,000 here and there because that donor is too busy playing games than to give you the money.   In the meantime, you could have been cultivating a major gift donor who was sincere rather than playing fetch with Mr./Mrs. Nevu Riche.    Again, it’s a side of my frienemy money that I really hate to see – manipulating those in need – kids in abuse shelters, international healthcare organizations to satisfy this misguided need for financial power.   

 

I also hate to see money squandered in the name of fame.  Who can forget the Kim Kardashian $10 Million wedding that lasted only 76 days.  How many people in developing countries could you have helped with that kind of money that went for essentially nothing but to satisfy a spoiled brat with an overinflated ego?  Millions or enough to build schools in Africa to help thousands of girls become leaders and not winey celebrities.  I’m not preaching socialism – I just think that we need to take a look at what we as society spend money on and who we support.   If you don’t like Kim, then don’t watch her show or buy her products and with any luck she and her family will go away. 

Max once told me that “Everyone is broke on a different level.”  Maybe we want too much and when we can’t buy it – it feels like we’re barely getting by.  For me, it’s the simple times, the ones with my kids at the park and seeing a wild rabbit or going to the library and checking out books for free that we read at storytime  when they were little that I cherish the most.   Does that keep me from having knots in my stomach at the thought of having $40 in the bank and still four days from payday?  No, but when the money flows back in – I do have to remind myself that less is more and we don’t need the latest and greatest to be happy.   Maybe if I keep on remembering that, money and I can be friends again.  Maybe we’ll sit down at the 5 and Dime, have a soda and a moon pie and remember the power of a shiny penny.

Finding Amber

When I first saw the ads for Finding Nemo nine years ago, I thought to myself that Pixar had made a giant misstep.  After all, the monsters in Monster's Inc. were cute and had wonderful personalities, but a movie about fish without a mermaid - really?!  I was not sure that I could get close to Nemo no matter how cute his animated face looked.  But I took seven year old Amber and three year old Daniel to see a movie about fish because everyone else told me how good the movie was.   As we settled in and heard the voice of Albert Brooks as Marlin, I still had my doubts.   Then, after a playful scene with Marlin's wife Coral, you see his life changed forever after a barracuda presumably kills her and the hundreds of eggs she's laid except for one that has a small crack in it. That egg eventually becomes Nemo - a special needs fish with a "lucky" fin that is smaller than the other.  He is disabled so it takes him longer to swim then the other fish.   Because he had lost almost everything in the attack, Marlin becomes a recluse with Nemo, living in an anemone (a plant that stings) to keep bad things from happening.   He tells his son that the ocean is a dangerous place and refuses to let him out of his sight.   Nemo ends up resenting his father and rebelling which leads to them being separated - the quest to be reunited is the thrust of the movie. 

As I watched the story unfold in 2003,  I wondered if I as the mother of a daughter who has autism if I was like Marlin.   Although I had never experienced that sort of loss, I too thought the world was a dangerous place for my baby girl.   I was very protective because Amber's way of processing information was different than most kids.   Amber is on the mild spectrum of autism but it still meant that she was different than most kids.  She would repeat things and had a hard time making eye contact which also made it difficult for her to make friends outside of her school group.   When Marlin would step in and try to manage things for a very capable Nemo, I could see myself doing the same thing.   I would answer for her if someone asked a question.   I tried to not expect too much out of her or expect her to do things most kids did like clean her room, wash dishes or put her clothes away.  I did all that for Amber because she was special and I wanted to make her life as easy as possible.   She didn't rebel like Nemo - at seven why should she?  Mom was doing everything for her.  I worried because she could be talked into things so easily and I felt like her way of comprehending danger was not like most kids.   But then how many seven year olds actually understand that not every adult is nice like your parents or teachers?   I tried to never let her out of my sight when she was not at school.  When Marlin's worst nightmare comes true and Nemo is taken away, I held back tears because that is every parent's worst nightmare.  I sat in that dark movie theater and watched how Marlin handled seeing his child abducted, and he didn't give up.  He constantly went out of his comfort zone with Dory (voice by the incredible Ellen DeGeneras), a blue fish with short term memory loss.   I knew, like most parents in the theater, that I would stop at nothing to find my child.   This all sounds plenty scary and very un-Disney.  If it the story had a human family dealing with all this loss, it would have been sad and awful, but the brilliant people at Pixar were smart enough to make the protagonists fish so you could have a connection but not feel like it was too much like real life.

When Nemo is  captured by a well meaning dentist who thought that he was helpless in the big ocean, he puts him in a fish tank where he'll be safe.  Nemo meets a wide group of fish who are happy being confined to a glass ocean.   They get fed, there are no predators and life is predictable.   He meets Gil, a fish with a broken fin and scars on his face and body who wants more than a safe existence - a stark contrast to Nemo's father Marlin.   Gil doesn't see Nemo as a kid with special needs, he sees a kid who wants to be treated like everyone else and can do things that the other fish can't.   There is an urgency to get Nemo out of the tank before the dentist's niece Darla comes to see him since she has a reputation for killing the fish her uncle gives her.  So begins Nemo's quest to get back to his father and the ocean - a sojourn that he's up for because despite his father being overbearing - he still loves and needs his daddy. 

Marlin's quest has him battling not one but three sharks, a mine field, jelly fish and East Australian current and the belly of a whale.   He meets these challenges head on and realizes that he was wrong to stay so reclusive with his son.   That's an instinct that parents who have kids with a disability have to fight - the need to keep them home and safe is admirable, but flat out it's not living.   They'll never know how to fend for themselves if you don't push them and yourself out of that comfort zone.  They'll never get where they need to be as a human.   Dory's advice is simple, "Just keep swimming,"  or just keep moving forward no matter how hard it gets.   It's been tough for me to see kids not want to play with Amber when she was smaller.  I had to fight the urge to intervene, but she eventually learned what to do and what not to do to engage other kids in play.   She can now talk about things that interest them and not repeat herself too much or get obsessed on one subject.   Sometimes the kids on the playground would walk away and she would "keep on swimming" or playing until another group came by and played.  It always fascinated me how the ebb and flow of a playground worked, very much like an ocean - kids would flow in, kids would flow out.  If they wanted to play with Amber, great - if not - then she was happy to play on her own - for her it wasn't personal.   So little by little, we would go shopping, out to lunch, then dinner, then to the movies, then to places that actually had waiters - each time it was a baby step to establishing what was normal and what was to be expected, but my eagle eye was always on her.   

Being overprotective is something I was always afraid of being yet I couldn't help it because my daughter seemed to need me so much - and truth be told I liked being needed.   But I always wondered if I was crossing a line of demarcation in which my stepping in could be keeping her from making friends with other kids because I was afraid they would make fun or her or take advantage of her.   I got where Marlin was coming from - even trying to make Nemo's shorter fin disability seem like a good thing - a lucky fin.  When the other kids point out that he's different, Marlin tries to protect Nemo's feelings.   Subsequently his need to protect his son from everything backfires in a big way and he's somewhat responsible for Nemo being captured.   His guilt as a parent is a palpable.  Marlin's exchange with the spacey but wise Dory really hit home:

Marlin: I promised I'd never let anything happen to him.

Dory: Hmm. That's a funny thing to promise.
Marlin: What?
Dory: Well, you can't never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him. Not much fun for little Harpo.

That was my "Ah-Ha" moment - little Amber had to figure out things on her own.   Good lord was this movie more for kids or for their parents?  Again the amazing magic of Pixar is that their movies are generally at such a high spiritual level that you can peel the layers away and still find more universal truths.   Giving a child the self confidence to try new things or figure out how to solve their own problems is an invaluable skill.  When Amber has felt the sting of peer pressure, we've talked about how to handle it knowing that Max and I can't be at her side all the time.   Some of my proudest moments as a parent has been having her teachers tell me that she stood up for what she believed in even if it was unpopular and surprise, surprise - her friends still liked her.    Protecting her and telling her not to be who she is because it's easier to be accepted would have been terrible advice, but that would have been the easy route.  

Underestimating a child with special needs can be a big mistake.  Not allowing them to try something they want to do because you see failure at the door is not moving them forward - they have to learn from it and pick themselves up.  When Dory and Marlin are swallowed by a whale,  Marlin has a hard time believing that his ding-bat companion can actually understand what the whale is saying and that this mammoth mammal would actually want to help him.   In his frustration, he yells at Dory and makes a telling Freudian slip: 

Marlin: No, no more whale! You can't speak whale!

Dory: Yes I can!
Marlin: No, you can't! You think you can do these things, but you can't, Nemo!

He's so hard wired to say "no" and "you can't" that he doesn't realize that Nemo is trying just as hard to get back to him and not sitting passively waiting for his dad to show up.   Nemo is learning so much from Gil who doesn't see him as crippled that he is able to take the situation in hand and take control which he eventually does to save the day and Dory.   How many times, I wondered had I shut Amber down because I honestly didn't think she was up to the task, even though she had asked to try to do something new?    I came close to turning down a free trip to Six Flags over Georgia to ride Goliath and the Georgia Scorcher because I was pretty sure she would not be able to handle it (and because frankly I was afraid of heights and roller coasters).   But like Marlin, I faced my fears and had a wonderful time.  We had a blast riding seven roller coasters in six hours and we both come away from the experience closer because we tried something new that scared us.  

Later in the movie, when he and Dory must make a life or death decision, he asks:

Marlin: What if something bad happens?

Dory:  You have to let go and find out.

For me that one line sums up the whole movie. I'll have to let go one day and found out just what my little girlie bear is capable of.  I know that someday Amber will have to learn how to drive and the idea of that frankly scares the crap out of me (but then to be fair, doesn't it for most parents?)   But she's going to need to be independent and she can't do that expecting me to drive her everywhere.   Even taking busses will require her to pay attention and learn which ones will get her home and which ones won't.   She's going to have to take responsibility for that to get to work on-time.

So as I sat in the movie theater in 2012 with my 16 year old daughter next to me, I realized that while I hadn't completely let go, I had eased up on her.   She has her own blog on Fan Fiction.net which is pretty popular and she gets good feedback.   She's gone on church outings with other teens without my eagle eye because she just needs to be a teen without Mom around all the time.    We're looking at her being able to volunteer on her own at an animal shelter.  Like Nemo, she'll learn how to put her skills to work and have a productive life - I just have to let it happen.   Ironically, she's always wanted to be a background animator for Pixar, those Czars of awesome who can take the tale of a little fish and make it something everyone can relate to.    Between 2003 when I first saw this amazing movie and 2012, a lot of things have happened some good and bad: my girlie bear has gone from elementary school to high school, I've lost a job, found one, lost one, found another one, fought depression, had animals pass away, etc .  But if I've learning anything from Finding Nemo, it's that you always have to keep on swimming.