Money, Honey

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JoEllen Collins—a longtime resident of the Wood River Valley—is a teacher, writer, fabric artist, choir member and unabashedly proud grandma known as “Bibi Jo.”

I was raised with the rule that one should never discuss politics, religion or money with guests at the dinner table or with others in nonacademic settings.

A glance at Facebook or Twitter reminds me how much has changed. Certainly the political arena is embroiled in a cesspool of uncivil rhetoric, religion is no longer a “sacred” subject often left to an individual worshipper to question, and money? Well, I think money is also increasingly a topic no longer embarrassing to so many of us affected by the changes in economics in our country and the world. I hear many people who would have kept their income a source for only family discussions now revealing the struggles they are having.

In my case, I am a member of an older generation raised to save, be frugal, budget, and not use credit unless absolutely essential. I was aghast last summer when a restaurant in San Francisco would not accept cash, a sign of my being behind the times.

When I started high school, my Uncle Doc (a man like a second father) sat me down in my family’s small tract home in Burbank, California, and showed me how to reconcile a checking account, something I still do compulsively out of habit. No QuickBooks for me! I even print out bank and credit transactions to be sure everything is accurate.

My mother would occasionally put something on “layaway,” or build up a small account at Montgomery Ward, but I don’t recall that she ever incurred debt, even when our financial health had spiraled down. My family’s savings vanished with the medical costs of the illness and death of my sister and my mother’s damaged heart.

My Uncle Doc also taught me about “good” budgets that required no more than 25 percent of one’s income designated for housing. I wonder if homeowners today really can follow that precept.

Someone told me recently that I had made the wrong financial choices by “just” being a teacher. That may be true in the sense of a secure retirement, but for many other reasons I am proud of my career. I must acknowledge that, even as a teacher, I was able to afford to buy a home. I can’t say the same for my younger teaching friends here who struggle with that ideal. Even my San Francisco family prefers to rent rather than make a lavish commitment to purchase a home in that area.

I have lived a very rich life in terms of pursuits other than acquiring money. I now live modestly by American standards and yet lavishly by those of the world’s inhabitants. I am lucky that I can afford, with some family help, to live in a small but lovely space where I can keep warm in the winter and be close to town, friends and loved ones. I often wonder about those who can’t even afford adequate heating.

I am grateful for enough money to get by while nurturing the values that feed my soul.