In search of six figures

a spread of appetizers for dinner party discussed below

Recently, at a dinner party where everyone was drunk and well-fed enough to share a series of glib confessions, Miss Cheapist announced, “My goal is to make six figures.” Silence fell over the table, then laughter, until one of her friends, also a colleague, responded, “What are you going to do, sell crack to your students?” Readers, you know Miss Cheapist works in a humble profession—teaching—where few imagine room for growth or prosperity. Yes, some make more when they enter the tedium of administrative work, but they claim do it for a higher purpose, and not for the love of money. How telling that he felt she could only earn six figures as a drug dealer. Was this how he viewed Miss Cheapist’s potential as an individual, or did it reflect his low expectations for himself and others working in the same field? As guilt pervades the not-for-profit sector, Miss Cheapist often received the message that to truly serve others, she must abandon any dreams of adequate compensation. After being a seasoned professional, Miss Cheapist refuses to buy that argument. Although she too was once paralyzed with class guilt, “entitlement role models” taught her that in order to help others, she could not go cheap on herself.

One such role model was Miss Cheapist’s friend, L., who worked with her at a previous job as a fund-raiser. On the job, L. referred often to her marketing background, wielding her Microsoft Office chops and her ability to translate corporate vernacular into a lingo of not-for-profit self-improvement with great confidence and charm. But L.’s most inspiring achievement took place before she even started. Recognizing that she was accustomed to a particular standard of living, and aware of her own self worth, L. negotiated a salary that was higher than anyone else who worked at the organization, aside from the boss himself. At that time, it was a mere $46,000, but as not-for-profit workers are made aware of the fact that their salaries are the product of donations and as a result must hover below market rate, the amount, when leaked, made her the subject of great envy and distrust. Miss Cheapist was initially miffed by L.’s aggressive self advocacy because it seemed to devalue her own achievements, but over time, L.’s relentless work ethic and generous spirit won her over. Moreover, she realized that L.’s brave negotiation set the bar higher for everyone else at the job to be paid more.

In making L. an ally, Miss Cheapist learned a valuable lesson about the workplace: if you are effective and work hard, you should be able to ask for what you want. Many avoid demanding more from the workplace because they fear it will lead to employer harassment or jealousy from peers, and quickly they end up feeling bitter and exploited, unable to stand up for themselves. Ironically, although L. was able to secure her salary, her boss never let her forget how privileged she was to receive that amount, often accusing her of being too “corporate” and out of touch with the mission of the organization. It's six years later, and she has left that job, now holding a Master’s Degree and lucrative job offer abroad. Although nobody’s life is perfect, her trajectory offers important lessons for all. If your boss begrudges you a desired salary, your future with him/her is probably limited. Ask and you might get more: have your requests be denied and receive a little more information about how the job may be unsuitable for the long term. So many organizations, not-for- profit and otherwise, seem to suffer from huge turnover when workers feel their ambition subtly stifled and requests made for an improved work place unreasonably dismissed. More importantly, how can someone help others if they are constantly worried about money? Inevitably, corners will be cut, and people burn out.

Miss Cheapist is still brainstorming ways to reach her goal. Her own mother recently emailed her in a business-like manner, noting that as Miss Cheapist has yet to "make it," she should not feel entitled to any of the objects from her family home. Make your own money first, then ask your parents for help (because you won't really need it) was the official message of self-made, tough love. Since her mother is obviously the best arbiter of reality, Miss Cheapist feels even more motivated to apply herself, and come up with a get-rich-quick scheme. Perhaps by adding greater specificity to her ambitions, she will finally arrive. If you have a formula for success, please feel free to comment and offer details on the sacrifices and caveats found along the path to wealth. In the past year we have discussed downward mobility, fantasies and secrets (see past posts if just tuning in now). A relationship between all these themes is slowly emerging. But is Miss Cheapist moving in the right direction?

Miss Cheapist and even cheaper sister

Sister Cheapist taking the ocean breezes of Venice Beach, CA

Miss Cheapist received the news in May that her sister, A., planned to move to Lost Angeles after the summer to pursue a degree in architecture, abandoning her lucrative job as a software consultant for something more artistic. A.’s pending departure marked the year anniversary of the blog (which was inspired by the Virginia suburb that she called home, as well as her frugal spending habits), and also reflected the general themes of East Coast abandonment that served as the subtext for Miss Cheapist’s regular musings. Given that everyone else found a better life in California, why wouldn’t A.? Who could resist its still developing cultural landscape, coastal modernism, and the chance to sight celebrities? When the feeling of being the remaining survivor after a nuclear holocaust gave way to quiet acceptance, Miss Cheapist went south to help her sister pack and move. In that experience, she learned quickly that her interpretation of cheapism was generational, as her sister lived in a realm simply known as “cheap.” Anxious that becoming a full-time graduate student would leave her a pauper, A. practiced a risky approach to cheapness, gambling in the world of Craigslist commerce.

Sister, cousin and Miss Cheapist (left to right) in the early 90s . All following pictures are of items sold online and photographed by A.

Miss Cheapist always thought of Craigslist as a place inhabited by amateur and seasoned child prostitutes, wanna-bes and their greatest fans. As many of her teenage students marketed themselves and found inappropriate friends through this medium, her assessment of the site fell just right of Nancy Reagan. For the less deviant, Craigslist is better known as a clearing-house for “stuff,” obviously a front for its greater purpose of bartering and subjugating bodies (to crudely borrow from postmodernism). What a great way for axe murderers to seduce twenty-somethings with limited budgets and expensive tastes: advertise a stylish piece of furniture and invite Net-faithful young’ uns to ones lair under a “cash and carry" policy. Or better yet, troll the site for college co-eds looking to sell their belongings online…and then access to their homes with little suspicion. But don't worry. Miss Cheapist is malleable. Those who see Craigslist as a rebellion against the retail industrial complex and a means of Paglia-esque female empowerment will be glad to know that through a few experiences with A., her opinion of the site did change. She came to learn:

Kind, hard-working people really need cheap stuff. The first couple to call was very persistent about a specific meeting time to view A.’s couch. Miss Cheapist saw their rigidity as an indicator that they were controlling freaks and warned her sister of confrontation if the meeting in person went sour. Please cancel, she said, and A. did not listen. When the couch coveters finally arrived, they appeared to be perfectly normal: a sweet, newly engaged South Asian couple (both architects by training) who had just moved from Texas and wanted to furnish their new life, cheaply. A., in an effort to make the situation legitimate, often asked buyers about their professions, reasons for purchasing the item and even their educational backgrounds. Perhaps it made for comforting small talk as strangers entered her home. Or maybe it was important that these beloved possessions go to people who met her approval. It turned out the couch was too expensive for the couple; they asked A. for a lower price, but she refused. Even when it seemed the couch was out of reach, they still sat and chatted for twenty minutes, the man leaving with her undergraduate duplicate packet of HBS case studies (estimated value of $100) for ten dollars. Miss Cheapist was so touched by their congeniality and humility that she almost convinced her sister to give the couch away to them. After all, they clearly deserved a prize for not being axe murderers; just average Americans pursuing a dream of cheap domesticity.

Some people take the time to give things away for free, and others are willing to go the distance to help them. One critical piece of advice Miss Cheapist gave A. was to purchase quality moving boxes. A. instead collected several odd-sized and partially deconstructed boxes from random hallways, with the intention of finding ways to “make it work.” After much insistence from Miss Cheapist, she finally sought out better boxes…by looking on Craigslist. Within minutes she found a woman who had 10-15 boxes to give away (side-note: 20-somethings really know how to use search engines). The woman just moved and was looking for someone to take away her boxes. Again, Miss Cheapist was very suspicious, and warned her sister not to allow herself to risk her life and precious packing time just to save a few dollars. A. ignored her, and Miss Cheapist reluctantly followed her sister on the fifteen minute drive to the woman’s apartment. Again, the visit was surprisingly fruitful: the woman was not an impersonator, and she had genuine intentions. She even helped to bring down some of the boxes from her fourth floor walk-up and offered a few words of advice on moving.

Some people find it difficult to buy new items at retail prices, and at the same time, they have the resources to move a three piece sectional within a moment's notice. The second couple that came to see the couch at 9:30 PM had visited other sellers that day and seemed ready to seal the deal. The woman unfolded herself into the couch and put her feet up, marking her territory. Within five minutes of saying she would take it, her brother-in-law arrived in the parking lot, ready to help carry and transport it home in a large van. A few minutes later, Miss Cheapist found herself watching “Girlfriends” reruns from the floor, while her sister fingered the $800 cash in hand. The transaction ran so smoothly that Miss Cheapist even considered selling something on-line. Unfortunately nothing of value, short of herself, came to mind.

The outcome: Based upon the spreadsheet A. created, (20-somethings are very comfortable with Excel), she was able to earn back at least 50% of what she spent on all belongings purchased in Virginia over her years of residence there. Because she kept her prices high, she was even able to make a profit on some items bought previously at a lower price on Craigslist. Winning this strange gamble between frugality and personal safety, she emerged victorious. Still in one piece, she was able to use the extra cash for the move and shed herself the burden of shipping all her possessions across the country. She did good business and learned to live more simply. Freed from attachment to her former life as a corporate stiff, she gained a chance to acquire more, in a new city. It would be only a matter of time that something caught her eye online, and she would have to get it. And the cycle of risk and reward would continue…

Secrets: Miss Cheapist will never tell...

Remember when friendships were defined by our ability to divulge everything? The sign of a true friend was someone you with whom you could unload all your secrets: vices, sexual preferences, hidden mistakes, family scandals, and all other unspeakables in between. Miss Cheapist formed an unexpected bond with a college classmate named J. after he disclosed his dirty little secret. Before that, their relationship had not extended beyond witty party banter and academic de-briefing. But one day, after a particularly charged class about “historical trauma,” J. pulled her aside and admitted that his high school research of family roots yielded the discovery of a slaveholding past, quite a source of shame given his liberal, open-minded ways and his family’s commitment to civil rights. Later he also admitted to being strangely attracted to women of color, and felt guilty about it, hoping that he wasn’t objectifying them for their “otherness.” Although there was probably no connection between the two secrets, his ability to articulate and admit both these things seemed to seal their friendship for life. Although Miss Cheapist has broken her promise in the name of online self- promotion, it’s important to note the point made here. Someone who is openly racist is completely déclassé, but someone who recognizes the contradictions of their views, and knows when to conceal, and when to share, was highly evolved. What self-awareness! The fact that they attended college in the era defined by “political-correctness” made his frankness all the more courageous.

But somewhere between elementary school and our early twenties (when Carrie and SATC brunch buddies set the norm on sharing), an unexpected discretion has taken over. Friend M. recently mentioned this culture of secrecy to Miss Cheapist, wondering how it was possible to have genuine friendships when everything from money to pregnancy seemed suddenly off-limits. In a variety of social settings, her questions meant to show sincere personal interest were received with off-putting comments and a huffy wall of silence. Did her behavior suddenly take a turn for the socially inappropriate or had people become too sensitive? If the latter is true, it seems a shame that friendships no longer require us to share our responses to life’s various passages, both celebratory and tragic. Clearly no one wants to unintentionally alienate their nearest and dearest, but Miss Cheapist suspects there is some benefit to secrecy or at least some reason for this new cheapness of candor!

To further investigate this matter, Miss Cheapist probed her friend N., who still believed in the comfort of a long phone conversation and the healing power of confessionals. Always known for her insight and her pithy one-liners, N. theorized that people are keeping secrets for a number of reasons. 1) They are making a lot of money and they don’t want one anyone to know. 2) They aren’t making money or feeling professional fulfillment and want no one to know. 3) They are desperately unhappy and are ashamed about it, either because they suspect friends will minimize their feelings or feel they are far to fortunate to be so miserable. Given all these different limitations, it is no surprise friends aren’t talking...if N. is right, somewhere between the concerns of both the blessed and the scorned, everything has become taboo! With this explanation, it’s clear that withholding is not personal, or a statement of ones trustworthiness. Instead, secrecy has become a coping mechanism, a testament to the power of denial. After all, if we don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist. Miss Cheapist thinks something's gotta change.