Forty-five minutes went by, and I was steaming. The two women had met with him and left thirty minutes earlier. An older gentleman was in there for twenty minutes and was also gone.
The house was empty, and I sat out in his musty dark living room on a beautiful sunny Hawaiian day, waiting to talk to a cheapskate who exploited children. I could hear him rustling around the office, talking on the phone, and ignoring me. I was now ready to walk out, but for some reason I stayed.
Finally, fifteen minutes later, at exactly 9 o'clock, rich dad walked out of his office, said nothing, and signaled with his hand for me to enter his dingy office.
"I understand you want a raise or you're going to quit," rich dad said as he swiveled in his office chair.
"Well, you're not keeping your end of the bargain," I blurted out nearly in tears. It was really frightening for a 9-year-old boy to confront a grownup.
"You said that you would teach me if I worked for you. Well, I've worked for you. I've worked hard. I've given up my baseball games to work for you. And you don't keep your word. You haven't taught me anything. You are a crook like everyone in town thinks you are. You're greedy. You want all the money and don't take care of your employees. You make me wait and don't show me any respect. I'm only a little boy, and I deserve to be treated better."
2010年1月13日星期三
Paris, at night 12
Rich dad rocked back in his swivel chair, hands up to his chin, somewhat staring at me. It was like he was studying me.
"Not bad," he said. "In less than a month, you sound like most of my employees."
"What?" I asked. Not understanding what he was saying, I continued with my grievance. "I thought you were going to keep your end of the bargain and teach me. Instead you want to torture me? That's cruel. That's really cruel."
"I am teaching you," rich dad said quietly.
"What have you taught me? Nothing!" I said angrily. "You haven't even talked to me once since I agreed to work for peanuts. Ten cents an hour. Hah! I should notify the government about you.
We have child labor laws, you know. My dad works for the government, you know."
"Wow!" said rich dad. "Now you sound just like most of the people who used to work for me. People I've either fired or they've quit."
"So what do you have to say?" I demanded, feeling pretty brave for a little kid. "You lied to me. I've worked for you, and you have not kept your word. You haven't taught me anything."
"How do you know that I've not taught you anything?" asked rich dad calmly.
"Well, you've never talked to me. I've worked for three weeks, and you have not taught me anything," I said with a pout.
"Does teaching mean talking or a lecture?" rich dad asked.
"Well, yes," I replied.
"That's how they teach you in school," he said smiling. "But that is not how life teaches you, and I would say that life is the best teacher of all. Most of the time, life does not talk to you. It just sort
"Not bad," he said. "In less than a month, you sound like most of my employees."
"What?" I asked. Not understanding what he was saying, I continued with my grievance. "I thought you were going to keep your end of the bargain and teach me. Instead you want to torture me? That's cruel. That's really cruel."
"I am teaching you," rich dad said quietly.
"What have you taught me? Nothing!" I said angrily. "You haven't even talked to me once since I agreed to work for peanuts. Ten cents an hour. Hah! I should notify the government about you.
We have child labor laws, you know. My dad works for the government, you know."
"Wow!" said rich dad. "Now you sound just like most of the people who used to work for me. People I've either fired or they've quit."
"So what do you have to say?" I demanded, feeling pretty brave for a little kid. "You lied to me. I've worked for you, and you have not kept your word. You haven't taught me anything."
"How do you know that I've not taught you anything?" asked rich dad calmly.
"Well, you've never talked to me. I've worked for three weeks, and you have not taught me anything," I said with a pout.
"Does teaching mean talking or a lecture?" rich dad asked.
"Well, yes," I replied.
"That's how they teach you in school," he said smiling. "But that is not how life teaches you, and I would say that life is the best teacher of all. Most of the time, life does not talk to you. It just sort
Paris, at night 11
of pushes you around. Each push is life saying, `Wake up. There's something I want you to learn.' "
"What is this man talking about?" I asked myself silently. "Life pushing me around was life talking to me?" Now I knew I had to quit my job. I was talking to someone who needed to be locked up.
"If you learn life's lessons, you will do well. If not, life will just continue to push you around. People do two things. Some just let life push them around. Others get angry and push back. But they push back against their boss, or their job, or their husband or wife. They do not know it's life that's pushing."
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Life pushes all of us around. Some give up. Others fight. A few learn the lesson and move on. They welcome life pushing them around. To these few people, it means they need and want to learn something. They learn and move on. Most quit, and a few like you fight."
Rich dad stood and shut the creaky old wooden window that needed repair. "If you learn this lesson, you will grow into a wise, wealthy and happy young man. If you don't, you will spend your life blaming a job, low pay or your boss for your problems. You'll live life hoping for that big break that will solve all your money problems."
Rich dad looked over at me to see if I was still listening. His eyes met mine. We stared at each other, streams of communication going between us through our eyes. Finally, I pulled away once I had absorbed his last message. I knew he was right. I was blaming him, and I did ask to learn. I was fighting.
Rich dad continued. "Or if you're the kind of person who has no guts, you just give up every time life pushes you. If you're that kind of person, you'll live all your life playing it safe, doing the right
"What is this man talking about?" I asked myself silently. "Life pushing me around was life talking to me?" Now I knew I had to quit my job. I was talking to someone who needed to be locked up.
"If you learn life's lessons, you will do well. If not, life will just continue to push you around. People do two things. Some just let life push them around. Others get angry and push back. But they push back against their boss, or their job, or their husband or wife. They do not know it's life that's pushing."
I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Life pushes all of us around. Some give up. Others fight. A few learn the lesson and move on. They welcome life pushing them around. To these few people, it means they need and want to learn something. They learn and move on. Most quit, and a few like you fight."
Rich dad stood and shut the creaky old wooden window that needed repair. "If you learn this lesson, you will grow into a wise, wealthy and happy young man. If you don't, you will spend your life blaming a job, low pay or your boss for your problems. You'll live life hoping for that big break that will solve all your money problems."
Rich dad looked over at me to see if I was still listening. His eyes met mine. We stared at each other, streams of communication going between us through our eyes. Finally, I pulled away once I had absorbed his last message. I knew he was right. I was blaming him, and I did ask to learn. I was fighting.
Rich dad continued. "Or if you're the kind of person who has no guts, you just give up every time life pushes you. If you're that kind of person, you'll live all your life playing it safe, doing the right
Paris, at night 10
"So what is the lesson I learned from working for only 10 cents an hour?" I asked. "That you're cheap and exploit your workers?"
Rich dad rocked back and laughed heartily. Finally, after his laughing stopped, he said, "You'd best change your point of view. Stop blaming me, thinking I'm the problem. If you think I'm the problem, then you have to change me. If you realize that you're the problem, then you can change yourself, learn something and grow wiser. Most people want everyone else in the world to change but themselves. Let me tell you, it's easier to change yourself than everyone else."
"I don't understand," I said.
"Don't blame me for your problems," rich dad said, growing impatient.
"But you only pay me 10 cents."
"So what are you learning?" rich dad asked, smiling.
"That you're cheap," I said with a sly grin.
"See, you think I'm the problem," said rich dad.
"But you are."
"Well, keep that attitude and you learn nothing. Keep the attitude
that I'm the problem and what choices do you have?"
"Well, if you don't pay me more or show me more respect and teach me, I'll quit."
"Well put," rich dad said. "And that's exactly what most people do. They quit and go looking for another job, better opportunity, and higher pay, actually thinking that a new job or more pay will solve the problem. In most cases, it won't."
"So what will solve the problem?" I asked. "Just take this measly 10 cents an hour and smile?"
Rich dad smiled. "That's what the other people do. Just accept a paycheck knowing that they and their family will struggle financially. But that's all they do, waiting for a raise thinking that more money will solve the problem. Most just accept it, and some take a second job working harder, but
Rich dad rocked back and laughed heartily. Finally, after his laughing stopped, he said, "You'd best change your point of view. Stop blaming me, thinking I'm the problem. If you think I'm the problem, then you have to change me. If you realize that you're the problem, then you can change yourself, learn something and grow wiser. Most people want everyone else in the world to change but themselves. Let me tell you, it's easier to change yourself than everyone else."
"I don't understand," I said.
"Don't blame me for your problems," rich dad said, growing impatient.
"But you only pay me 10 cents."
"So what are you learning?" rich dad asked, smiling.
"That you're cheap," I said with a sly grin.
"See, you think I'm the problem," said rich dad.
"But you are."
"Well, keep that attitude and you learn nothing. Keep the attitude
that I'm the problem and what choices do you have?"
"Well, if you don't pay me more or show me more respect and teach me, I'll quit."
"Well put," rich dad said. "And that's exactly what most people do. They quit and go looking for another job, better opportunity, and higher pay, actually thinking that a new job or more pay will solve the problem. In most cases, it won't."
"So what will solve the problem?" I asked. "Just take this measly 10 cents an hour and smile?"
Rich dad smiled. "That's what the other people do. Just accept a paycheck knowing that they and their family will struggle financially. But that's all they do, waiting for a raise thinking that more money will solve the problem. Most just accept it, and some take a second job working harder, but
Paris, at night 9
again accepting a small paycheck."
I sat staring at the floor, beginning to understand the lesson rich dad was presenting. I could sense it was a taste of life. Finally, I looked up and repeated the question. "So what will solve the problem?"
"This," he said tapping me gently on the head. "This stuff between your ears."
It was at that moment that rich dad shared the pivotal point of view that separated him from his employees and my poor dad-and led him to eventually become one of the richest men in Hawaii while my highly educated, but poor, dad struggled financially all his life. It was a singular point of view that made all the difference over a lifetime.
Rich dad said over and over, this point of view, which I call Lesson No. 1.
"The poor and the middle class work for money." "The rich have money work for them."
On that bright Saturday morning, I was learning a completely different point of view from what I had been taught by my poor dad. At the age of 9, I grew aware that both dads wanted me to learn. Both dads encouraged me to study... but not the same things.
My highly educated dad recommended that I do what he did. "Son, I want you to study hard, get good grades, so you can find a safe, secure job with a big company. And make sure it has excellent benefits." My rich dad wanted me to learn how money works so I could make it work for me. These lessons I would learn through life with his guidance, not because of a classroom.
My rich dad continued my first lesson, "I'm glad you got angry about working for 10 cents an hour. If you had not gotten angry and had gladly accepted it, I would have to tell you that I could not
I sat staring at the floor, beginning to understand the lesson rich dad was presenting. I could sense it was a taste of life. Finally, I looked up and repeated the question. "So what will solve the problem?"
"This," he said tapping me gently on the head. "This stuff between your ears."
It was at that moment that rich dad shared the pivotal point of view that separated him from his employees and my poor dad-and led him to eventually become one of the richest men in Hawaii while my highly educated, but poor, dad struggled financially all his life. It was a singular point of view that made all the difference over a lifetime.
Rich dad said over and over, this point of view, which I call Lesson No. 1.
"The poor and the middle class work for money." "The rich have money work for them."
On that bright Saturday morning, I was learning a completely different point of view from what I had been taught by my poor dad. At the age of 9, I grew aware that both dads wanted me to learn. Both dads encouraged me to study... but not the same things.
My highly educated dad recommended that I do what he did. "Son, I want you to study hard, get good grades, so you can find a safe, secure job with a big company. And make sure it has excellent benefits." My rich dad wanted me to learn how money works so I could make it work for me. These lessons I would learn through life with his guidance, not because of a classroom.
My rich dad continued my first lesson, "I'm glad you got angry about working for 10 cents an hour. If you had not gotten angry and had gladly accepted it, I would have to tell you that I could not
2010年1月11日星期一
Paris, at night 8
teach you. You see, true learning takes energy, passion, a burning desire. Anger is a big part of that formula, for passion is anger and love combined. When it comes to money, most people want to play it safe and feel secure. So passion does not direct them: Fear does."
"So is that why they'll take a job with low par?" I asked.
"Yes," said rich dad. "Some people say I exploit people because I don't pay as much as the sugar plantation or the government. I say the people exploit themselves. It's their fear, not mine."
"But don't you feel you should pay them more?" I asked.
"I don't have to. And besides, more money will not solve the problem. Just look at your dad. He makes a lot of money, and he still can't pay his bills. Most people, given more money, only get into more debt."
"So that's why the 10 cents an hour," I said, smiling. "It's a part of the lesson."
"That's right," smiled rich dad. "You see, your dad went to school and got an excellent education, so he could get a high-paying job. Which he did. But he still has money problems because he never learned anything about money at school. On top of that, he believes in working for money."
"And you don't?" I asked.
"No, not really," said rich dad. "If you want to learn to work for money, then stay in school. That is a great place to learn to do that. But if you want to learn how to have money work for you, then I will teach you that. But only if you want to learn."
"Wouldn't everyone want to learn that" I asked.
"No," said rich dad. "Simply because it's easier to learn to work for money, especially if fear is your primary emotion when the subject of money is discussed."
"I don't understand," I said with a frown.
"So is that why they'll take a job with low par?" I asked.
"Yes," said rich dad. "Some people say I exploit people because I don't pay as much as the sugar plantation or the government. I say the people exploit themselves. It's their fear, not mine."
"But don't you feel you should pay them more?" I asked.
"I don't have to. And besides, more money will not solve the problem. Just look at your dad. He makes a lot of money, and he still can't pay his bills. Most people, given more money, only get into more debt."
"So that's why the 10 cents an hour," I said, smiling. "It's a part of the lesson."
"That's right," smiled rich dad. "You see, your dad went to school and got an excellent education, so he could get a high-paying job. Which he did. But he still has money problems because he never learned anything about money at school. On top of that, he believes in working for money."
"And you don't?" I asked.
"No, not really," said rich dad. "If you want to learn to work for money, then stay in school. That is a great place to learn to do that. But if you want to learn how to have money work for you, then I will teach you that. But only if you want to learn."
"Wouldn't everyone want to learn that" I asked.
"No," said rich dad. "Simply because it's easier to learn to work for money, especially if fear is your primary emotion when the subject of money is discussed."
"I don't understand," I said with a frown.
Paris, at night 7
"Don't worry about that for now. Just know that it's fear that keeps most people working at a job. The fear of not paying their bills. The fear of being fired. The fear of not having enough money. The fear of
starting over. That's the price of studying to learn a profession or trade, and then working for money. Most people become a slave to money... and then get angry at their boss."
"Learning to have money work for you is a completely different course of study?" I asked.
"Absolutely," rich dad answered, "absolutely."
We sat in silence on that beautiful Hawaiian Saturday morning. My friends would have just been starting their Little League baseball game. But far some reason, I was now thankful I had decided to work for 10 cents an hour. I sensed that I was about to learn something my friends would not learn in school.
"Ready to learn?" asked rich dad.
"Absolutely," I said with a grin.
"I have kept my promise. I've been teaching you from afar," my rich dad said. "At 9 years old, you've gotten a taste of what it feels like to work for money. Just multiply your last month by fifty years and you will have an idea of what most people spend their life doing."
"I don't understand," I said.
"How did you feel waiting in line to see me? Once to get hired and once to ask for more money?"
"Terrible," I said.
"If you choose to work for money, that is what life is like for many people," said rich dad.
"And how did you feel when Mrs. Martin dropped three dimes in your hand for three hours' work?"
starting over. That's the price of studying to learn a profession or trade, and then working for money. Most people become a slave to money... and then get angry at their boss."
"Learning to have money work for you is a completely different course of study?" I asked.
"Absolutely," rich dad answered, "absolutely."
We sat in silence on that beautiful Hawaiian Saturday morning. My friends would have just been starting their Little League baseball game. But far some reason, I was now thankful I had decided to work for 10 cents an hour. I sensed that I was about to learn something my friends would not learn in school.
"Ready to learn?" asked rich dad.
"Absolutely," I said with a grin.
"I have kept my promise. I've been teaching you from afar," my rich dad said. "At 9 years old, you've gotten a taste of what it feels like to work for money. Just multiply your last month by fifty years and you will have an idea of what most people spend their life doing."
"I don't understand," I said.
"How did you feel waiting in line to see me? Once to get hired and once to ask for more money?"
"Terrible," I said.
"If you choose to work for money, that is what life is like for many people," said rich dad.
"And how did you feel when Mrs. Martin dropped three dimes in your hand for three hours' work?"
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