I had two fathers, a rich one and a poor one. One was highly
educated and intelligent. He had a Ph.D. and completed four years
of undergraduate work in less than two years. He then went on to
Stanford University, the University of Chicago, and Northwestern
University to do his advanced studies, all on full financial scholarships.
The other father never finished the eighth grade.
Both men were successful in their careers, working hard all their
lives. Both earned substantial incomes. Yet one always struggled
financially. The other would become one of the richest men in Hawaii.
One died leaving tens of millions of dollars to his family, charities, and
his church. The other left bills to be paid.
Both men were strong, charismatic, and influential. Both men
offered me advice, but they did not advise the same things. Both men
believed strongly in education but did not recommend the same course
of study.

If I had had only one dad, I would have had to accept or reject his
advice. Having two dads offered me the choice of contrasting points
of view: one of a rich man and one of a poor man.
Instead of simply accepting or rejecting one or the other, I found
myself thinking more, comparing, and then choosing for myself. The
problem was that the rich man was not rich yet, and the poor man was not yet poor. Both were just starting out on their careers, and
both were struggling with money and families. But they had very
different points of view about money.
For example, one dad would say, “The love of money is the root
of all evil.” The other said, “The lack of money is the root of all evil.”
As a young boy, having two strong fathers both influencing me
was difficult. I wanted to be a good son and listen, but the two fathers
did not say the same things. The contrast in their points of view,
particularly about money, was so extreme that I grew curious and
intrigued. I began to start thinking for long periods of time about
what each was saying.
Much of my private time was spent reflecting, asking myself
questions such as, “Why does he say that?” and then asking the same
question of the other dad’s statement. It would have been much
easier to simply say, “Yeah, he’s right. I agree with that.” Or to simply
reject the point of view by saying, “The old man doesn’t know what
he’s talking about.” Instead, having two dads whom I loved forced
me to think and ultimately choose a way of thinking for myself. As a
process, choosing for myself turned out to be much more valuable in
the long run than simply accepting or rejecting a single point of view.
One of the reasons the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, and
the middle class struggles in debt is that the subject of money is
taught at home, not in school. Most of us learn about money from
our parents. So what can poor parents tell their child about money?
They simply say, “Stay in school and study hard.” The child may
graduate with excellent grades, but with a poor person’s financial
programming and mindset.
Sadly, money is not taught in schools. Schools focus on scholastic
and professional skills, but not on financial skills. This explains how
smart bankers, doctors, and accountants who earned excellent grades
may struggle financially all of their lives. Our staggering national debt
is due in large part to highly educated politicians and government
officials making financial decisions with little or no training in the
subject of money.

Today I often wonder what will soon happen when we have
millions of people who need financial and medical assistance. They
will be dependent upon their families or the government for financial
support. What will happen when Medicare and Social Security run
out of money? How will a nation survive if teaching children about
money continues to be left to parents—most of whom will be, or
already are, poor?


good reading.