Today’s episode really has everything. Piggy and I exchanging loving compliments and deep insights—then following it up with sex jokes, and a little off-mic shrieking as this poor Redditor describes her situation.
A young college student lent her older boyfriend money for food and student loans… yet he somehow ends up at a casino.
Hmm… yes, we might have something to say about this one.
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Today’s podcast question comes to us from Patreon donor Rachel. She’s in a good situation overall: stable, paying down debt quickly, and gainfully employed as an engineer.
But her feelings about engineering overall are, mmm… tepid.
Shall we slap her for even considering leaving a lucrative and in-demand field? Or shall we kiss her on both cheeks and push her off the gravy train? You’ll have to listen to find out!
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When I was about thirteen or so, my mom brought me down to the local branch of the regional bank and helped me set up my first checking account. I had diligently saved $100 of my babysitting money, which I deposited in my brand new checking account.
And suddenly, I was an individual with a bank! I had the ability to deposit and withdraw cash from that account. I could use my debit card to buy things with the money in that account. And I could transfer money from that account to others as I grew older and my financial needs expanded. When I got my first jobs, my employers could automatically deposit my paychecks directly into that account. Heckin’ magical.
I thought this was a pretty damn normal step toward adulthood. So imagine my surprise when I learned, years later, that not everyone goes through the rite of passage of opening a bank account when they’re young. Or at all.
There are, in fact, 17 million American adults who do not have a bank account of any kind. These individuals are known as the unbanked. The unbanked or underbanked represent 25% of U.S. households. And while many of them choose to be unbanked for various legitimate reasons (a distrust of financial institutions, for example), many of them are unbanked because of circumstances beyond their control (an inability to open an account due to legal status, or an inability to maintain minimum balances due to long-term poverty, for example).
Having a bank account is important and useful. So allow your beloved Internet auntie to take you under her downy, cloud-like snow goose wing and walk you through everything you need to know about how and why to open your very first bank account!
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Our podcast question today is on the topic of wealth, privilege, and g-g-g-g—
No, not ghosts! It’s g-g-g-guilt!
Specifically: rich white lady guilt! OooOOoooOOOO!
But don’t be afraid. Piggy and I are both ex-Catholics. Whatever kind of guilt you have, we can slice and dice it into bite-sized chunks with the studied grace of a teppanyaki chef.
Read More“As a progressive person and someone who is starting to get into a pretty good place financially (have an emergency fund, bought a home a few years ago, paid off credit card debts), I’ve started feeling so guilty! It probably doesn’t help that I work in finance too. I don’t like capitalism but I’m working it the way I’m ‘supposed’ to. How do I feel less guilty for making myself financially healthy?”
Last week I was chatting with a rad young lady who is about to start her final semester of college. When the subject of careers and negotiation came up, I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm. (“Teaching young people how to negotiate their salaries” is what I write down on the religion line on surveys.)
I asked what salary range she was asking for, and she quickly answered: “$37,000.”
It struck me as an unusual number for two reasons:
So I dug deeper. “Why that number?”
She explained that she sat down with a notebook and wrote down all the expenses she might have in a given month. “Rent, internet, groceries, student loans, car insurance… I added it all up, multiplied by twelve, and added 10% for savings. It came out to $36,200, so I rounded up just to be safe.”
My nurturing altruism joined forces with my baser capitalist instincts to manifest a camera to do a dolly zoom on my horrified face.
