Alef: The NEXT Conversation

Loose Change

By Benjamin Pinkhasik

My first lesson in dealing with money took place on one of those long double buses with a stretchy accordion middle. I must have been six or seven years old at the time and was holding a shiny new coin. While this doesn’t sound like much, it was enough to buy a delicious, carbonated, syrupy drink, and I was looking forward to having one that day.

For a six-year-old, those long buses held incredible allure as the middle rotated while the bus took turns.

“You should put that away,” I remember my father telling me, pointing to the coin held loosely in my fingers.

But did I listen? You can probably predict how this story ends. The bus hit a pothole, Newtonian laws of motion took over, and the coin escaped from my fingers, leaped into the accordion part of the bus I was so fascinated by, and got lost in an abyss of wrappers, chewed gum, and grime. The loss of this coin was agonizing and brought on much personal unhappiness at the time.

My view on money – why we need it, the drive to have it, and the best way to spend it – took shape as I grew up and observed how my family dealt with money. While I never had a real need for money, by the time I reached my early teens, I realized it was important to have it. It gave you the ability to buy things without being a burden on your parents, without having to ask anyone for anything. It gave you personal freedom, which I strived for, and so I started working to amass it. At fourteen, I packed my briefcase, put on a suit, donned shiny shoes and a pink tie, and got a job. I spent the summer building park benches and flower boxes for the town – hard, sweaty work – and I still remember that first paycheck. I felt incredible – I cashed that check, asked the teller to give me all singles, and for the next few hours I had a “stack” of cash.

A decade ago, my thoughts on money could be summarized by this opening line of an essay I wrote in high school – “Whoever said money doesn’t buy happiness surely didn’t know what he was talking about.”

i.e., money=happiness.

I predicted that George Bush Jr. would be the next president. My logic: “the monetary contributions to his campaign are greater than the other candidates. Doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know who the leader of Pakistan is.”

i.e., money=power.

I espoused that happiness and money are intricately linked – “just ask the local bum if a little money would make him happier.” I proposed and reflected on the idea that the rich don’t really have problems. These were childish sensibilities, for sure, as I had never, at that point, given money or even talked to those bums.

A little more than ten years passed and my thoughts on money evolved. While money is still important to me, today I focus on the the ability to earn it and how to utilize it once I’ve attained it. You can go to that hot new restaurant, buy yet another piece of clothing, purchase that new iPod when your old one is still good, but do you really need it and would it actually make you happy?

My first trip to Israel was not a traditional tour like a Birthright Israel trip. It was titled “Mission Possible” and it had a philanthropic bend to it. Before leaving, all the participants were asked to present an Israeli charity that they were interested in and convince the rest of the group why it should support that charity. Then we voted for the best four. While in Israel, we visited these organizations, saw what kind of work they did, and in the end, the top charity selected by the group received ten thousand dollars. I wanted to learn how to best choose a deserving charity and was pointed to the Torah. In Deuteronomy 15:7, there are references to the “maser” or what’s called the 1/10th rule – the eight levels of tzedakah and the explicit guarantee that the mitzvah of observing maser comes with a assurance of wealth.

My lofty goals for earning money didn’t change over the years, but what has changed are my goals of what to do with it once attained. Armed with the power of tikkun olam, I think about how to become active in philanthropy, why one charity performs over another, and how I can have a lasting impact. Today I realize that money doesn’t buy you happiness, but it can buy happiness for others. For many, a few extra dollars are meaningless, but for a homeless person, the money can mean survival and potentially the start of a new life.

As I learned on that bus, money can be in your possession one moment and not the next. Today, I’m determined not to let it slip away, and to do some good with it.

If you feel you have the answer to why and how we should choose one charity over another or on philanthropy in general, please comment below.

Read more posts from Issue #11: Money, Greed, & Guilt.

Photo by cometstarmoon, licensed under Creative Commons.

Tags: birthright israel, freedom, happiness, Money, philanthropy, tikkun olam, Volunteering

Posted by Sarah, Friday, April 9th, 2010, 11:55 am, Money Greed and Guilt.