Decades later, I still remember hearing his voice — a boy of perhaps 10 or 11 stood behind me in line at a gift shop. He asked detailed questions about each item he prepared to buy, appearing knowledgeable and confident. I cannot remember what I was buying … maybe a pack of gum? But after I made my purchase, I heard the cashier announce that this boy owed hundreds of dollars. I panicked, wondering how he would be able to spend so much.
“Put it on my parents’ account,” the boy replied. The store manager obliged, and the boy walked out of the store with giant bags full of seemingly unnecessary purchases.
I went home and asked my father why that boy had been able to spend so much of his parents’ money without them being there. “That boy sounds entitled,” my dad responded. “You will meet people like this in your life. People who do not understand the value of money and who believe they can purchase anything they want, as if the money grows on trees. It is important for you to remember that you are not these people. No matter how much money we make, we will always know the value of our purchases.”
My father continued to point out “entitled” members of society as time went on. The man who insisted his child not wait in line like the other children for face painting at a birthday party. The woman who maxed out her husband’s credit cards even though she did not work and he earned the money. The teenagers who insisted on wearing the most expensive clothes at my boarding school despite having never worked a summer job.
The message growing up was clear: “You will not grow up to be an entitled member of society. You will work hard and be kind.”
Better yet, my father adopted a family quote: “With privilege comes responsibility.” What was my responsibility? I knew I could not be like the “others” who had privilege and yet did not seem to appreciate it. I knew that it was my job to not only be kind but to be the most kind and gracious person in each room. “There are people who will believe you are entitled because of your family name, but you will prove them wrong with your kindness and good deeds.”
I worked hard to shed the “entitled” label. I took my responsibility to steward my privilege seriously. I worked several minimum-wage jobs throughout my teenage and college years. I knew the value of work and the value of a dollar. I pursued a career associated with low pay and service to others. I would not be like the others.
Perhaps I achieved leadership skills that others did not. Perhaps my varied work experience earned me unique and desirable character traits. And yet, the more I worked to avoid my entitlement label, the more I started to bump up against the reality of my own entitlement.
So what is entitlement? Historically, I believe we have used the word “entitlement” to describe individuals who act as if they are entitled to something they did not earn. An entitled person expects a paycheck that wasn't earned — to not have to wait in lines at the airport, to receive faster service than others in dining establishments.
Based on the definition listed above, these people are entitled. And yet, despite all of my work to be the opposite, I have learned that I am entitled. I am entitled to money that I did not earn — money that I have and will continue to inherit from my father, who has inherited money that he did not earn. I can do very little to separate myself from entitlement — from the bank documents that have secured my access to financial stability since before I could even walk or talk. Did I earn this money? No. Do I deserve it? The bank says yes.
How, then, do I contend with the realities of my own entitlement while seeking to avoid the pitfalls of becoming entitled? For a long time, I ignored my financial privilege. I proudly lived (and still mostly live) only off of money that I had earned. I prided myself on my work ethic and my ability to live below my means.
My ability to ignore my wealth shifted, however, when I gave birth to my daughter. How can I teach her about the wealth she will inherit if I do not understand my own?
Furthermore, I started to recognize that the more I ignored my financial privilege, the more I missed out on opportunities to better serve my community.
In the world where I grew up, I was set up to believe that there were two types of wealth inheritors — the givers or the takers. Those who live entitled lives versus those who don’t. Those who go out into the world to be seen and those who go out to serve.
Over time, this way of thinking has become problematic in multiple ways.
First, it requires you to ignore the realities of your personal wealth in order to feel whole — which, of course, is not wholeness. Second, it creates increased division among humans in a world where we are already too divided. Could it be possible that there is a third path?
Within my third path, I suggest that individuals with inherited wealth take back the word “entitlement” for themselves. What if, instead of fearing entitlement, we pursued empowered entitlement?
When I first suggest “empowered entitlement” to my clients, they almost immediately shudder. I can visibly see the physical discomfort a client experiences as I introduce this topic. Their shoulders rise up to their ears, perhaps a brow furrows or a lip twitches. “But I’m not entitled,” they will tell me. And then they will give me their list of good deeds just like I did above — a resume for lack of entitlement.
As we talk, a client may begin to name the harsher realities — “If I am entitled, then I need to accept that I have not earned a portion of my wealth. … If I am entitled then I must sit with the complexities of realizing that I have been given access to privilege in this world by nature of my birth and not my good works.”
And yet, as each of my clients begins to tell the truth over time — and without shame — of their wealth stories, their physical presentation shifts. Their shoulders relax. They breathe more deeply. They can think more clearly about their futures. When we shift from fear of entitlement to empowered entitlement, we can take control over our future instead of living a life characterized by constant striving and hiding.
In Kristin Keffeler’s well-researched book, The Myth of the Silver Spoon, she suggests that rising-generation inheritors often fail to self-actualize due to the ways in which inherited wealth creates increased internal clutter. Specifically, Keffeler has identified “money clutter” as one of the key impediments to personal success. She has created a path forward for her readers to begin clearing the clutter and live more fulfilling lives.
What if you did not have to run from fear of entitlement and could instead find freedom by becoming empowered in your own entitlement? Can you begin to dream of how your life might look different?
Maybe we don’t have to feel so stuck after all. Let’s clear this clutter together.