I like the idea of this
thread, thanks for making it. It's true that everyone has different motivations and inspirations. Our upbringing certainly influences our decisions. Thank you for sharing your stories, and the stories of your ancestors. I believe we are nothing without those who brought us up, and who support and inspire our dreams.
I was mostly drawn to respond to this because I was also born in Alaska, though I can't quite claim to the title of "raised." My mother moved up to Kodiak Island when she was 18, to work at the fish canneries. She was mending nets on the docks when she met my dad. My father was a commercial fisherman, at work on ships for months at a time. He died at sea when I was not quite a year of age.
So began the simultaneous
gift and taint of death on my life story. My mother moved back to the lower 48 and became a hair dresser, she's still chopping hair 20+ years later. We received a thousand dollars a month in social security money because of my dad's death until I was 18. This enabled my family (my mother is still married to a wonderful man who adopted me when I was 9, they had my little sister when I was 4 1/2) to have a higher quality of life. I was able to have orthodontics to fix my jaw problems, take private music lessons, I'm not really even sure what else exactly. I was too young to realize the importance of that money when we were getting it, of course.
My biological father's father was in the navy from the age of 18. I'm sure being moved around frequently as a youngster was a big influence in my dad's decision to try his hand at the "wild frontier" of Alaska and the dangerous occupation of a commercial fisherman. I only know him through stories of those who knew him, and they are fewer in number every year. My grandfather lived to
experience the death of his two only children, and his wife. He died in a veteran's hospital in Seattle when I was 14. We never lived in the same state, unfortunately I can't say we had a very close relationship.
At 14, I was a freshman in a tiny public school in southern Colorado. I was smart enough to be thoroughly bored. I had friends who pursued illegal activities. So, to spare you the story, I was at home, serving a sentence of two weeks suspension (the rest of my friends had just been expelled from school because of the "event") when we got the letter informing us of my grandfather's death. Turns out, he managed to squirrel away money from his navy pay into investments. And, as a surprise decision, he decided to will the entirety of this nest egg to me - his only blood descendent. Now, I didn't get a million dollars. My mother said, I distinctly remember "well it's not enough money to ruin your life!" ha! But even at that young age, I understood that this money from my grandpa represented both an incredible opportunity, and the weight of our family legacy.
So at 14, I was in the weird position of suddenly having a significant inheritance that none of my immediate family shared. Luckily, they've only been supportive of me and my decisions, never any hostility (can't say the same about my extended family on my dad's side- I guess that's typical when people pass and money is involved). My parents were able to provide for my younger sister all the better because they no longer had my expenses to worry about. My mother's attitude toward my behavior changed dramatically, to say the least. I guess she figured that I could pay my own legal fees if I choose to continue down the path I had started to explore. But she was also instrumental in impressing upon me the responsibility that comes with money, especially money that represented so much of my family's pain. I am very fortunate and grateful for my mother's sound advice, she's the only financial adviser I've ever had.
She suggested I explore boarding schools, which seemed like a strange but welcome idea. I had no friends left at the rural public school I hated, so it seemed like the most wonderful thing in the world to be accepted to a fine-arts oriented high school (interlochen arts academy, in michigan), and move into a shared dorm room as a sophomore. Three years at that school changed me to the core. The incredibly high expectations of my teachers taught me to work HARD. It was there I realized my body was a tool for creation. I was also exposed to a wide range of people, kids from around the world. Kids who were waaaaay smarter and more talented than I will ever be. It was very healthy for me to realize that I was not the best and brightest, because my experience in public education had been too easy, and this school taught me to attempt the impossible - you might be surprised at the outcome.
After growing up in the "sticks", I wanted to live in the
CITY, and I did just that after graduation. I thought I wanted to live in NYC, but September 11, 2001 changed my mind. I watched live TV in a dorm lobby as planes flew into the towers, on the first day of my senior year of highschool. Strange first day of school, to say the least. So, instead of the big
apple, first Boston, then (after dropping out of
art school) Philadelphia. Philly is such a cool place, despite what people have to say about it on the contrary. I started riding my bike year round, joined a community garden, learned about composting. My whole "tribe" went to the Rhizome Collective's Radical Urban
Sustainability Training
workshop in Auston, TX one summer in '06. I was so amazed that all the "problems" of the modern world could be solved through these simple solutions called "
permaculture".
For a number of reasons (I'm no economic analyst but I also don't live under a rock) I decided that 2008 was the year I needed to get my inheritance out of the stock market and into some land. I still can't believe how lucky I was in that decision - I seriously considered buying what we all know now as an incredibly overvalued house in Philly. If I had waited one more month to liquidate my stocks, it would have been sucked back into the system from whence it came. But, as it is.....I knew had to spend this money responsibly, and soon, while it was still worth something. I searched the internet for land with natural springs, and here I am. This is the first and only place I looked at "in person." I hope to be as good a steward as this beautiful place deserves.
I struggle with the feeling that nothing I do is really "mine" because I haven't earned it. The amazing opportunities in my life were handed to me. Some people are born expecting to recieve the benefits of their forefathers, but I had my first official job when I was 12, stocking shelves at the local grocery store. Before that I helped my parents earn money mowing lawns and cleaning houses. We were far from rich, just barely hanging on to middle class for most of my childhood. I have the advantages of being instilled with a work ethic, and some money to back it. Money plus time plus
energy - gets stuff done!
But still, there's a tendency for people to admire working hard for an end goal, and to resent people who arrive at that same goal with little effort on their own part. I try not worry about what people think of me too much. Giving the money back wasn't really an option, and feeling guilty about having more than other people (than
all my friends, ever, for example) doesn't solve anything either.
In an odd way, the buying power of my inheritance pointed me towards
permaculture ethics, because for me a purchase wasn't so much a question of "if I can afford it." With my relatively simple tastes I could afford whatever I wanted (if I had a different personality that money would have been gone in as long as it takes to buy about three really nice cars - or with yet a different personality, I could have been a millionaire several times over). I had to come up with other ways to decide how to spend my dollars. I came to understand that who we give our money to says a great deal about our character. I enjoy spending money on causes I feel improve my mind, or our world. Most of my recent purchases have been quality machines that will be useful for a long time, ideally indefinitely, without using a lot of unsustainable energy. I think a really nice bike is quite possibly the most useful few thousand dollars a person can spend on transportation. (my bike is more like $700 and has been a work in progress for years.....and I love to ride her...but I admit I also dream about getting a custom made frame from Rivendell Bicycle works....maybe....)
Now I'm at the point where my inheritance is nearly gone, and that's a psychological adjustment for me, as I've never been an adult without a financial cushion to fall back on. I'm in the process of creating a lifestyle where money is less important. I have no illusions that money is unnecessary. I feel that I'm in the best position possible to create a place that will feed myself and other people, and making a bit of money will happen as a side effect. I hope that we can figure out a way for other people to live here too, but that will take several more psychological adjustments before I'm fully comfortable giving up sole ownership of this land.
I suppose it's fitting that I see my work here as a
gift to the next generation. The food forests we plant aren't going to be really amazing until I'm dead and gone. I'm devoting my life to creating a sustainable future. The children who grow up here will participate in creating their own tangible inheritance, and my only hope is that I turn my grandfather's wonderful gift into a much larger and more meaningful legacy than a chunk of change in a bank.