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Robert T. Kiyosaki

What The Rich Teach Their Kids About Money – That The Poor And Middle Class Do Not!

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R o

bert T. K iyo

saki

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Rich Dad Poor Dad – The #1 Personal Finance Book of All Time!

“Rich Dad Poor Dad is a starting point for anyone looking to gain control of their

financial future.” – USA TODAY

Robert Kiyosaki has challenged and changed the way tens of millions of people around the world think about money. With perspectives that often contradict conventional wisdom, Robert has earned a reputation for straight talk, irreverence and courage. He is regarded worldwide as a passionate advocate for financial education.

“The main “The main reason people struggle financially is because they have spent years in school but learned nothing about money. The result is that people learn to work for money… but never learn to have money work for them.”

– Robert Kiyosaki

• Explode the myth that you need to earn a high income to become rich

• Challenge the belief that your house is an asset

• Show parents why they can’t rely on the school system to teach their kids about money

• Define once and for all an asset and a liability

•• Teach you what to teach your kids about money for their future financial success

Rich Dad Poor Dad will…

“Rich Dad Poor Dad is a starting point for anyone looking to gain control of their financial future.”

– USA TODAY

What The Rich Teach Their Kids About Money— That The Poor And Middle Class Do Not!

By Robert T. Kiyosaki

RICH DAD POOR DAD

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Plata Publishing, LLC 4330 N. Civic Center Plaza Suite 100 Scottsdale, AZ 85251 (480) 998-6971 Visit our websites: PlataPublishing.com and RichDad.com Printed in the United States of America First Edition: 1997 First Plata Publishing Edition: March 2011 032014

ISBN: 978-1-61268-000-2

Cover photo credit: Seymour & Brody Studio

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What The Rich Teach Their Kids About Money— That The Poor And Middle Class Do Not!

By Robert T. Kiyosaki

RICH DAD POOR DAD

®

Best-selling Books by Robert T. Kiyosaki

Rich Dad Poor Dad What the Rich Teach Their Kids About Money –

That the Poor and Middle Class Do Not

Rich Dad’s CASHFLOW Quadrant Guide to Financial Freedom

Rich Dad’s Guide to Investing What the Rich Invest in That the Poor and Middle Class Do Not

Rich Dad’s Rich Kid Smart Kid Give Your Child a Financial Head Start

Rich Dad’s Retire Young Retire Rich How to Get Rich and Stay Rich

Rich Dad’s Prophecy Why the Biggest Stock Market Crash in History Is Still Coming...

And How You Can Prepare Yourself and Profit from It!

Rich Dad’s Success Stories Real-Life Success Stories from Real-Life People

Who Followed the Rich Dad Lessons

Rich Dad’s Guide to Becoming Rich Without Cutting Up Your Credit Cards

Turn Bad Debt into Good Debt

Rich Dad’s Who Took My Money? Why Slow Investors Lose and Fast Money Wins!

Rich Dad Poor Dad for Teens The Secrets About Money – That You Don’t Learn In School!

Escape the Rat Race Learn How Money Works and Become a Rich Kid

Rich Dad’s Before You Quit Your Job Ten Real-Life Lessons Every Entrepreneur Should Know

About Building a Multimillion-Dollar Business

Rich Dad’s Increase Your Financial IQ Get Smarter with Your Money

Robert Kiyosaki’s Conspiracy of the Rich The 8 New Rules of Money

Unfair Advantage The Power of Financial Education

Why “A” Students Work for “C” Students Rich Dad’s Guide to Financial Education for Parents

To parents everywhere, a child’s first and most important teachers,

and to all those who educate, influence, and lead by example

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Acknowledgments

How does a person say “thank you” when there are so many people to thank? Obviously this book is a thank you to my two fathers, who were powerful role models, and to my mom, who taught me love and kindness.

The person most responsible for this book becoming a reality is my wife Kim—my partner in marriage, business, and in life. She makes my life complete.

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Contents

Introduction Rich Dad Poor Dad .......................................................................................1

Chapter One Lesson 1: The Rich Don’t Work for Money ...................................................9

Chapter Two Lesson 2: Why Teach Financial Literacy? .....................................................41

Chapter Three Lesson 3: Mind Your Own Business ............................................................71

Chapter Four Lesson 4: The History of Taxes and the Power of Corporations .......................... 79

Chapter Five Lesson 5: The Rich Invent Money ...............................................................91

Chapter Six Lesson 6: Work to Learn—Don’t Work for Money ....................................115

Chapter Seven Overcoming Obstacles ..............................................................................129

Chapter Eight Getting Started .........................................................................................145

Chapter Nine Still Want More? Here Are Some To Do’s ...................................................167

Final Thoughts .........................................................................................173

Having two dads offered me the choice of contrasting points of view:

one of a rich man and one of a poor man.

Introduction

RICH DAD POOR DAD

1

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

Introduction

2

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.

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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?

Because I had two influential fathers, I learned from both of them. I had to think about each dad’s advice, and in doing so, I gained valuable insight into the power and effect of one’s thoughts on one’s life. For example, one dad had a habit of saying, “I can’t afford it.” The other dad forbade those words to be used. He insisted I ask, “How can I afford it?” One is a statement, and the other is a question. One lets you off the hook, and the other forces you to think. My soon-to-be-rich dad would explain that by automatically saying the words “I can’t afford it,” your brain stops working. By asking the question “How can I afford it?” your brain is put to work. He did not mean that you should buy everything you want. He was fanatical about exercising your mind, the most powerful computer in the world. He’d say, “My brain gets stronger every day because I exercise it. The stronger it gets, the more money I can make.” He believed that automatically saying “I can’t afford it” was a sign of mental laziness.

Although both dads worked hard, I noticed that one dad had a habit of putting his brain to sleep when it came to finances, and the other had a habit of exercising his brain. The long-term result was that one dad grew stronger financially, and the other grew weaker. It is not much different from a person who goes to the gym to exercise on a regular basis versus someone who sits on the couch watching television. Proper physical exercise increases your chances for health, and proper mental exercise increases your chances for wealth.

My two dads had opposing attitudes and that affected the way they thought. One dad thought that the rich should pay more in taxes to take care of those less fortunate. The other said, “Taxes punish those who produce and reward those who don’t produce.”

Introduction

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One dad recommended, “Study hard so you can find a good company to work for.” The other recommended, “Study hard so you can find a good company to buy.”

One dad said, “The reason I’m not rich is because I have you kids.” The other said, “The reason I must be rich is because I have you kids.”

One encouraged talking about money and business at the dinner table, while the other forbade the subject of money to be discussed over a meal.

One said, “When it comes to money, play it safe. Don’t take risks.” The other said, “Learn to manage risk.”

One believed, “Our home is our largest investment and our greatest asset.” The other believed, “My house is a liability, and if your house is your largest investment, you’re in trouble.”

Both dads paid their bills on time, yet one paid his bills first while the other paid his bills last.

One dad believed in a company or the government taking care of you and your needs. He was always concerned about pay raises, retirement plans, medical benefits, sick leave, vacation days, and other perks. He was impressed with two of his uncles who joined the military and earned a retirement-and-entitlement package for life after twenty years of active service. He loved the idea of medical benefits and PX privileges the military provided its retirees. He also loved the tenure system available through the university. The idea of job protection for life and job benefits seemed more important, at times, than the job. He would often say, “I’ve worked hard for the government, and I’m entitled to these benefits.”

The other believed in total financial self-reliance. He spoke out against the entitlement mentality and how it created weak and financially needy people. He was emphatic about being financially competent.

One dad struggled to save a few dollars. The other created investments. One dad taught me how to write an impressive resumé so I could find a good job. The other taught me how to write strong business and financial plans so I could create jobs.

Rich Dad Poor Dad

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Being a product of two strong dads allowed me the luxury of observing the effects different thoughts have on one’s life. I noticed that people really do shape their lives through their thoughts.

For example, my poor dad always said, “I’ll never be rich.” And that prophecy became reality. My rich dad, on the other hand, always referred to himself as rich. He would say things like, “I’m a rich man, and rich people don’t do this.” Even when he was flat broke after a major financial setback, he continued to refer to himself as a rich man. He would cover himself by saying, “There is a difference between being poor and being broke. Broke is temporary. Poor is eternal.”

My poor dad would say, “I’m not interested in money,” or “Money doesn’t matter.” My rich dad always said, “Money is power.”

The power of our thoughts may never be measured or appreciated, but it became obvious to me as a young boy that it was important

to be aware of my thoughts and how I expressed myself. I noticed that my poor dad was poor, not because of the amount of money he earned, which was significant, but because of his thoughts and actions. As a young boy having two fathers, I became acutely aware of being

careful about which thoughts I chose to adopt as my own. Should I listen to my rich dad or to my poor dad?

Although both men had tremendous respect for education and learning, they disagreed about what they thought was important to learn. One wanted me to study hard, earn a degree, and get a good job to earn money. He wanted me to study to become a professional, an attorney or an accountant, and to go to business school for my MBA. The other encouraged me to study to be rich, to understand how money works, and to learn how to have it work for me. “I don’t work for money!” were words he would repeat over and over. “Money works for me!”

At the age of nine, I decided to listen to and learn from my rich dad about money. In doing so, I chose not to listen to my poor dad, even though he was the one with all the college degrees.

There is a difference between being poor and being broke.

Broke is temporary. Poor is eternal.

Introduction

6

A Lesson from Robert Frost Robert Frost is my favorite poet. Although I love many of his poems, my favorite is “The Road Not Taken.” I use its lesson almost daily.

The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads onto way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence;

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Rich Dad Poor Dad

7

And that has made all the difference. Over the years, I have often reflected upon Robert Frost’s poem.

Choosing not to listen to my highly educated dad’s advice and attitude about money was a painful decision, but it was a decision that shaped the rest of my life.

Once I made up my mind about whom to listen to, my education about money began. My rich dad taught me over a period of 30 years until I was 39 years old. He stopped once he realized that I knew and fully understood what he had been trying to drum into my often-thick skull.

Money is one form of power. But what is more powerful is financial education. Money comes and goes, but if you have the education about how money works, you gain power over it and can begin building wealth. The reason positive thinking alone does not work is because most people went to school and never learned how money works, so they spend their lives working for money.

Because I was only nine years old when I started, the lessons my rich dad taught me were simple. And when it was all said and done, there were only six main lessons, repeated over 30 years. This book is about those six lessons, put as simply as possible, just as simply as my rich dad put forth those lessons to me. The lessons are meant not to be answers, but guideposts that will assist you and your children to grow wealthier no matter what happens in a world of increasing change and uncertainty.

Chapter One

LESSON 1: THE RICH DON'T WORK FOR MONEY

9

The poor and the middle class work for money. The rich have money work for them.

“Dad, can you tell me how to get rich?” My dad put down the evening paper. “Why do you want to get

rich, Son?” “Because today Jimmy’s mom drove up in their new Cadillac, and

they were going to their beach house for the weekend. He took three of his friends, but Mike and I weren’t invited. They told us we weren’t invited because we were poor kids.”

“They did?” my dad asked incredulously. “Yeah, they did,” I replied in a hurt tone. My dad silently shook his head, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his

nose, and went back to reading the paper. I stood waiting for an answer. The year was 1956. I was nine years old. By some twist of fate,

I attended the same public school where the rich people sent their kids. We were primarily a sugar-plantation town. The managers of the plantation and the other affluent people, such as doctors, business owners, and bankers, sent their children to this elementary school. After grade six, their children were generally sent off to private schools. Because my family lived on one side of the street, I went to this school. Had I lived on the other side of the street, I would

Chapter One: Lesson 1

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have gone to a different school with kids from families more like mine. After grade six, these kids and I would go on to the public intermediate and high school. There was no private school for them or for me.

My dad finally put down the paper. I could tell he was thinking. “Well, Son…,” he began slowly. “If you want to be rich, you have

to learn to make money.” “How do I make money?” I asked. “Well, use your head, Son,” he said, smiling. Even then I knew

that really meant, “That’s all I’m going to tell you,” or “I don’t know the answer, so don’t embarrass me.”

A Partnership Is Formed

The next morning, I told my best friend, Mike, what my dad had said. As best as I could tell, Mike and I were the only poor kids in this school. Mike was also in this school by a twist of fate. Someone had drawn a jog in the line for the school district, and we wound up in school with the rich kids. We weren’t really poor, but we felt as if we were because all the other boys had new baseball gloves, new bicycles, new everything.

Mom and Dad provided us with the basics, like food, shelter, and clothes. But that was about it. My dad used to say, “If you want something, work for it.” We wanted things, but there was not much work available for nine-year-old boys.

“So what do we do to make money?” Mike asked. “I don’t know,” I said. “But do you want to be my partner?” He agreed, and so on that Saturday morning, Mike became my

first business partner. We spent all morning coming up with ideas on how to make money. Occasionally we talked about all the “cool guys” at Jimmy’s beach house having fun. It hurt a little, but that hurt was good, because it inspired us to keep thinking of a way to make money. Finally, that afternoon, a bolt of lightning struck. It was an idea Mike got from a science book he had read. Excitedly, we shook hands, and the partnership now had a business.

Rich Dad Poor Dad

11

For the next several weeks, Mike and I ran around our neighborhood, knocking on doors and asking our neighbors if they would save their toothpaste tubes for us. With puzzled looks, most adults consented with a smile. Some asked us what we were doing, to which we replied, “We can’t tell you. It’s a business secret.”

My mom grew distressed as the weeks wore on. We had selected a site next to her washing machine as the place we would stockpile our raw materials. In a brown cardboard box that at one time held catsup bottles, our little pile of used toothpaste tubes began to grow.

Finally my mom put her foot down. The sight of her neighbors’ messy, crumpled, used toothpaste tubes had gotten to her. “What are you boys doing?” she asked. “And I don’t want to hear again that it’s a business secret. Do something with this mess, or I’m going to throw it out.”

Mike and I pleaded and begged, explaining that we would soon have enough and then we would begin production. We informed her that we were waiting on a couple of neighbors to finish their toothpaste so we could have their tubes. Mom granted us a one-week extension.

The date to begin production was moved up, and the pressure was on. My first partnership was already being threatened with an eviction notice by my own mom! It became Mike’s job to tell the neighbors to quickly use up their toothpaste, saying their dentist wanted them to brush more often anyway. I began to put together the production line.

One day my dad drove up with a friend to see two nine-year-old boys in the driveway with a production line operating at full speed. There was fine white powder everywhere. On a long table were small milk cartons from school, and our family’s hibachi grill was glowing with red-hot coals at maximum heat.

Dad walked up cautiously, having to park the car at the base of the driveway since the production line blocked the carport. As he and his friend got closer, they saw a steel pot sitting on top of the coals in which the toothpaste tubes were being melted down. In those days, toothpaste did not come in plastic tubes. The tubes were made of lead. So once the paint was burned off, the tubes were dropped in the small steel pot. They melted until they became liquid, and with my

Chapter One: Lesson 1

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mom’s pot holders, we poured the lead through a small hole in the top of the milk cartons.

The milk cartons were filled with plaster of paris. White powder was everywhere. In my haste, I had knocked the bag over, and the entire area looked like it had been hit by a snowstorm. The milk cartons were the outer containers for plaster of paris molds.

My dad and his friend watched as we carefully poured the molten lead through a small hole in the top of the plaster of paris cube.

“Careful,” my dad said. I nodded without looking up. Finally, once the pouring was through, I put the steel pot down

and smiled at my dad. “What are you boys doing?” he asked with a cautious smile. “We’re doing what you told me to do. We’re going to be rich,”

I said. “Yup,” said Mike, grinning and nodding his head. “We’re partners.” “And what is in those plaster molds?” my dad asked. “Watch,” I said. “This should be a good batch.” With a small hammer, I tapped at the seal that divided the cube

in half. Cautiously, I pulled up the top half of the plaster mold and a lead nickel fell out.

“Oh, no!” my dad exclaimed. “You’re casting nickels out of lead!” “That’s right,” Mike said. “We’re doing as you told us to do. We’re

making money.” My dad’s friend turned and burst into laughter. My dad smiled

and shook his head. Along with a fire and a box of spent toothpaste tubes, in front of him were two little boys covered with white dust smiling from ear to ear.

He asked us to put everything down and sit with him on the front step of our house. With a smile, he gently explained what the word “counterfeiting” meant.

Our dreams were dashed. “You mean this is illegal?” asked Mike in a quivering voice.

Rich Dad Poor Dad

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“Let them go,” my dad’s friend said. “They might be developing a natural talent.”

My dad glared at him. “Yes, it is illegal,” my dad said gently. “But you boys have shown

great creativity and original thought. Keep going. I’m really proud of you!”

Disappointed, Mike and I sat in silence for about twenty minutes before we began cleaning up our mess. The business was over on opening day. Sweeping the powder up, I looked at Mike and said, “I guess Jimmy and his friends are right. We are poor.”

My father was just leaving as I said that. “Boys,” he said. “You’re only poor if you give up. The most important thing is that you did something. Most people only talk and dream of getting rich. You’ve done something. I’m very proud of the two of you. I will say it again: Keep going. Don’t quit.”

Mike and I stood there in silence. They were nice words, but we still did not know what to do.

“So how come you’re not rich, Dad?” I asked. “Because I chose to be a schoolteacher. Schoolteachers really don’t

think about being rich. We just like to teach. I wish I could help you, but I really don’t know how to make money.”

Mike and I turned and continued our cleanup. “I know,” said my dad. “If you boys want to learn how to be

rich, don’t ask me. Talk to your dad, Mike.” “My dad?” asked Mike with a scrunched-up face. “Yeah, your dad,” repeated my dad with a smile. “Your dad

and I have the same banker, and he raves about your father. He’s told me several times that your father is brilliant when it comes to making money.”

“My dad?” Mike asked again in disbelief. “Then how come we don’t have a nice car and a nice house like the rich kids at school?”

“A nice car and a nice house don’t necessarily mean you’re rich or you know how to make money,” my dad replied. “Jimmy’s dad works for

Chapter One: Lesson 1

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the sugar plantation. He’s not much different from me. He works for a company, and I work for the government. The company buys the car for him. The sugar company is in financial trouble, and Jimmy’s dad may soon have nothing. Your dad is different, Mike. He seems to be building an empire, and I suspect in a few years he will be a very rich man.”

With that, Mike and I got excited again. With new vigor, we began cleaning up the mess caused by our now-defunct first business. As we were cleaning, we made plans for how and when to talk to Mike’s dad. The problem was that Mike’s dad worked long hours and often did not come home until late. His father owned warehouses, a construction company, a chain of stores, and three restaurants. It was the restaurants that kept him out late.

Mike caught the bus home after we had finished cleaning up. He was going to talk to his dad when he got home that night and ask him if he would teach us how to become rich. Mike promised to call as soon as he had talked to his dad, even if it was late.

The phone rang at 8:30 p.m. “Okay,” I said. “Next Saturday.” I put the phone down. Mike’s dad

had agreed to meet with us. On Saturday I caught the 7:30 a.m. bus to the poor side of town.

The Lessons Begin Mike and I met with his dad that morning at eight o’clock. He

was already busy, having been at work for more than an hour. His construction supervisor was just leaving in his pickup truck as I walked up to his simple, small, and tidy home. Mike met me at the door.

“Dad’s on the phone, and he said to wait on the back porch,” Mike said as he opened the door.

The old wooden floor creaked as I stepped across the threshold of the aging house. There was a cheap mat just inside the door. The mat was there to hide the years of wear from countless footsteps that the floor had supported. Although clean, it needed to be replaced.

I felt claustrophobic as I entered the narrow living room that was filled with old musty overstuffed furniture that today would be collectors’ items. Sitting on the couch were two women, both a little

Rich Dad Poor Dad

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older than my mom. Across from the women sat a man in workman’s clothes. He wore khaki slacks and a khaki shirt, neatly pressed but without starch, and polished work boots. He was about 10 years older than my dad. They smiled as Mike and I walked past them toward the back porch. I smiled back shyly.

“Who are those people?” I asked. “Oh, they work for my dad. The older man runs his warehouses,

and the women are the managers of the restaurants. And as you arrived, you saw the construction supervisor who is working on a road project about 50 miles from here. His other supervisor, who is building a track of houses, left before you got here.”

“Does this go on all the time?” I asked. “Not always, but quite often,” said Mike, smiling as he pulled up

a chair to sit down next to me. “I asked my dad if he would teach us to make money,” Mike said. “Oh, and what did he say to that?” I asked with cautious curiosity. “Well, he had a funny look on his face at first, and then he said he

would make us an offer.” “Oh,” I said, rocking my chair back against the wall. I sat there

perched on two rear legs of the chair. Mike did the same thing. “Do you know what the offer is?” I asked. “No, but we’ll soon find out.” Suddenly, Mike’s dad burst through the rickety screen door and

onto the porch. Mike and I jumped to our feet, not out of respect, but because we were startled.

“Ready, boys?” he asked as he pulled up a chair to sit down with us. We nodded our heads as we pulled our chairs away from the wall

to sit in front of him. He was a big man, about six feet tall and 200 pounds. My dad was

taller, about the same weight, and five years older than Mike’s dad. They sort of looked alike, though not of the same ethnic makeup. Maybe their energy was similar.

Chapter One: Lesson 1

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“Mike says you want to learn to make money? Is that correct, Robert?” I nodded my head quickly, but with a little trepidation. He had

a lot of power behind his words and smile. “Okay, here’s my offer. I’ll teach you, but I won’t do it classroom-

style. You work for me, I’ll teach you. You don’t work for me, I won’t teach you. I can teach you faster if you work, and I’m wasting my time if you just want to sit and listen like you do in school. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

“Ah, may I ask a question first?” I asked. “No. Take it or leave it. I’ve got too much work to do to waste

my time. If you can’t make up your mind decisively, then you’ll never learn to make money anyway. Opportunities come and go. Being able to know when to make quick decisions is an important skill. You have the opportunity that you asked for. School is beginning, or it’s over in 10 seconds,” Mike’s dad said with a teasing smile.

“Take it,” I said. “Take it,” said Mike. “Good,” said Mike’s dad. “Mrs. Martin will be by in 10 minutes.

After I’m through with her, you’ll ride with her to my superette and you can begin working. I’ll pay you 10 cents an hour, and you’ll work three hours every Saturday.”

“But I have a softball game today,” I said. Mike’s dad lowered his voice to a stern tone. “Take it, or leave it,”

he said. “I’ll take it,” I replied, choosing to work and learn instead of playing.

Thirty Cents Later By 9:00 a.m. that day, Mike and I were working for Mrs. Martin.

She was a kind and patient woman. She always said that Mike and I reminded her of her two grown sons. Although kind, she believed in hard work and kept us moving. We spent three hours taking canned goods off the shelves, brushing each can with a feather duster to get the dust off, and then re-stacking them neatly. It was excruciatingly boring work.

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Mike’s dad, whom I call my rich dad, owned nine of these little superettes, each with a large parking lot. They were the early version of the 7-Eleven convenience stores, little neighborhood grocery stores where people bought items such as milk, bread, butter, and cigarettes. The problem was that this was Hawaii before air-conditioning was widely used, and the stores could not close their doors because of the heat. On two sides of the store, the doors had to be wide open to the road and parking lot. Every time a car drove by or pulled into the parking lot, dust would swirl and settle in the store. We knew we had a job as long as there was no air-conditioning.

For three weeks, Mike and I reported to Mrs. Martin and worked our three hours. By noon, our work was over, and she dropped three little dimes in each of our hands. Now, even at the age of nine in the mid- 1950s, 30 cents was not too exciting. Comic books cost 10 cents back then, so I usually spent my money on comic books and went home.

By Wednesday of the fourth week, I was ready to quit. I had agreed to work only because I wanted to learn to make money from Mike’s dad, and now I was a slave for 10 cents an hour. On top of that, I had not seen Mike’s dad since that first Saturday.

“I’m quitting,” I told Mike at lunchtime. School was boring, and now I did not even have my Saturdays to look forward to. But it was the 30 cents that really got to me.

This time Mike smiled. “What are you laughing at?” I asked with anger and frustration. “Dad said this would happen. He said to meet with him when

you were ready to quit.” “What?” I said indignantly. “He’s been waiting for me to get

fed up?” “Sort of,” Mike said. “Dad’s kind of different. He doesn’t teach like

your dad. Your mom and dad lecture a lot. My dad is quiet and a man of few words. You just wait till this Saturday. I’ll tell him you’re ready.”

“You mean I’ve been set up?” “No, not really, but maybe. Dad will explain on Saturday.”

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Waiting in Line on Saturday I was ready to face Mike’s dad. Even my real dad was angry with

him. My real dad, the one I call the poor one, thought that my rich dad was violating child labor laws and should be investigated.

My educated, poor dad told me to demand what I deserve—at least 25 cents an hour. My poor dad told me that if I did not get a raise, I was to quit immediately.

“You don’t need that damned job anyway,” said my poor dad with indignation.

At eight o’clock Saturday morning, I walked through the door of Mike’s house when Mike’s dad opened it.

“Take a seat and wait in line,” he said as I entered. He turned and disappeared into his little office next to a bedroom.

I looked around the room and didn’t see Mike anywhere. Feeling awkward, I cautiously sat down next to the same two women who were there four weeks earlier. They smiled and slid down the couch to make room for me.

Forty-five minutes went by, and I was steaming. The two women had met with him and left 30 minutes earlier. An older gentleman was in there for 20 minutes and was also gone.

The house was empty, and here I sat in a 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 ready to walk out, but for some reason I stayed.

Finally, 15 minutes later, at exactly nine o’clock, rich dad walked out of his office, said nothing, and signaled with his hand for me to enter.

“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 me to confront a grown-up.

“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, but you haven’t kept your word, and you haven’t taught

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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 made me wait and don’t show me any respect. I’m only a little boy, but I deserve to be treated better.”

Rich dad rocked back in his swivel chair, hands up to his chin, and stared at 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 who have 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 of pushes you around. Each push is life saying, ‘Wake up. There’s something I want you to learn.’”

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“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 people give up and 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 always 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, communicating through our eyes. Finally, I looked away once I had absorbed his 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 things, saving yourself for some event that never happens. Then you die a boring old man. You’ll have lots of friends who really like you because you were such a nice hardworking guy. But the truth is that you let life push you into submission. Deep down you were terrified of taking risks. You really wanted to win, but the fear of losing was greater than the excitement of winning. Deep inside, you and only you will know you didn’t go for it. You chose to play it safe.”

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Our eyes met again. “You’ve been pushing me around?” I asked. “Some people might say that,” smiled rich dad. “I would say that

I just gave you a taste of life.” “What taste of life?” I asked, still angry, but now curious and

ready to learn. “You boys are the first people who have ever asked me to teach

them how to make money. I have more than 150 employees, and not one of them has asked me what I know about money. They ask me for a job and a paycheck, but never to teach them about money. So most will spend the best years of their lives working for money, not really understanding what it is they are working for.”

I sat there listening intently. “So when Mike told me you wanted to learn how to make money,

I decided to design a course that mirrored real life. I could talk until I was blue in the face, but you wouldn’t hear a thing. So I decided to let life push you around a bit so you could hear me. That’s why I only paid you 10 cents.”

“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 he said, “You’d best change your point of view. Stop blaming me and 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.

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“But you are.” “Well, keep that attitude and you’ll 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, a better opportunity, and higher pay, actually thinking that this will solve the problem. In most cases, it won’t.”

“So what should I do?” I asked. “Just take this measly 10 cents an hour and smile?”

Rich dad smiled. “That’s what the other people do. But that’s all they do, waiting for a raise thinking that more money will solve their problems. Most just accept it, and some take a second job working harder, but 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 asked, “So what will solve the problem?”

“This,” he said, leaning forward in his chair and 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 explained this point of view over and over, which I call lesson number one: The poor and the middle class work for money. The rich have money work for them.

On that bright Saturday morning, I learned a completely different point of view from what I had been taught by my poor dad. At the age of nine, I understood that both dads wanted me to learn. Both dads encouraged me to study, but not the same things.

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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 hadn’t got angry and had simply accepted it, I would have to tell you that I could not teach you. You see, true learning takes energy, passion, and 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 jobs with low pay?” 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 their

problems. 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. But he still has money problems because he never learned anything about money in 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.”

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“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. “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, and 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 had just started their Little League baseball game, but for 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 wouldn’t 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 nine 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 will be like,” said

rich dad. “And how did you feel when Mrs. Martin dropped three dimes in

your hand for three hours of work?”

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“I felt like it wasn’t enough. It seemed like nothing. I was disappointed,” I said.

“And that is how most employees feel when they look at their paychecks—especially after all the tax and other deductions are taken out. At least you got 100 percent.”

“You mean most workers don’t get paid everything?” I asked with amazement.

“Heavens no!” said rich dad. “The government always takes its share first.”

“How do they do that?” I asked. “Taxes,” said rich dad. “You’re taxed when you earn. You’re

taxed when you spend. You’re taxed when you save. You’re taxed when you die.”

“Why do people let the government do that to them?” “The rich don’t,” said rich dad with a smile. “The poor and the

middle class do. I’ll bet you that I earn more than your dad, yet he pays more in taxes.”

“How can that be?” I asked. At my age, that made no sense to me. “Why would someone let the government do that to them?”

Rich dad rocked slowly and silently in his chair, just looking at me. “Ready to learn?” he asked. I nodded my head slowly. “As I said, there is a lot to learn. Learning how to have money work

for you is a lifetime study. Most people go to college for four years, and their education ends. I already know that my study of money will continue over my lifetime, simply because the more I find out, the more I find out I need to know. Most people never study the subject. They go to work, get their paycheck, balance their checkbooks, and that’s it. Then they wonder why they have money problems. They think that more money will solve the problem and don’t realize that it’s their lack of financial education that is the problem.”

“So my dad has tax problems because he doesn’t understand money?” I asked, confused.

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“Look,” said rich dad, “taxes are just one small section on learning how to have money work for you. Today, I just wanted to find out if you still have the passion to learn about money. Most people don’t. They want to go to school, learn a profession, have fun at their work, and earn lots of money. One day they wake up with big money problems, and then they can’t stop working. That’s the price of only knowing how to work for money instead of studying how to have money work for you. So do you still have the passion to learn?” asked rich dad.

I nodded my head. “Good,” said rich dad. “Now get back to work. This time, I will

pay you nothing.” “What?” I asked in amazement. “You heard me. Nothing. You will work the same three hours

every Saturday, but this time you will not be paid 10 cents per hour. You said you wanted to learn to not work for money, so I’m not going to pay you anything.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I’ve already had this conversation with Mike and he’s already

working, dusting and stacking canned goods for free. You’d better hurry and get back there.”

“That’s not fair,” I shouted. “You’ve got to pay something!” “You said you wanted to learn. If you don’t learn this now, you’ll

grow up to be like the two women and the older man sitting in my living room, working for money and hoping I don’t fire them. Or like your dad, earning lots of money only to be in debt up to his eyeballs, hoping more money will solve the problem. If that’s what you want, I’ll go back to our original deal of 10 cents an hour. Or you can do what most adults do: Complain that there is not enough pay, quit, and go looking for another job.”

“But what do I do?” I asked. Rich dad tapped me on the head. “Use this,” he said. “If you use

it well, you will soon thank me for giving you an opportunity and you will grow into a rich man.”

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I stood there, still not believing what a raw deal I was handed. I came to ask for a raise, and somehow I was instead working for nothing.

Rich dad tapped me on the head again and said, “Use this. Now get out of here and get back to work.”

Lesson #1: The Rich Don’t Work for Money

I didn’t tell my poor dad I wasn’t being paid. He wouldn’t have understood, and I didn’t want to try to explain something I didn’t understand myself.

For three more weeks, Mike and I worked three hours every Saturday for nothing. The work didn’t bother me, and the routine got easier, but it was the missed baseball games and not being able to afford to buy a few comic books that got to me.

Rich dad stopped by at noon on the third week. We heard his truck pull up in the parking lot and sputter when the engine was turned off. He entered the store and greeted Mrs. Martin with a hug. After finding out how things were going in the store, he reached into the ice-cream freezer, pulled out two bars, paid for them, and signaled to Mike and me.

“Let’s go for a walk, boys.” We crossed the street, dodging a few cars, and walked across a

large grassy field where a few adults were playing softball. Sitting down at a lone picnic table, he handed Mike and me the treats.

“How’s it going, boys?” “Okay,” Mike said. I nodded in agreement. “Learn anything yet?” rich dad asked. Mike and I looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and

shook our heads in unison.

Avoiding One of Life’s Biggest Traps “Well, you boys had better start thinking. You’re staring at one of

life’s biggest lessons. If you learn it, you’ll enjoy a life of great freedom

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and security. If you don’t, you’ll wind up like Mrs. Martin and most of the people playing softball in this park. They work very hard for little money, clinging to the illusion of job security and looking forward to a three-week vacation each year and maybe a skimpy pension after forty- five years of service. If that excites you, I’ll give you a raise to 25 cents an hour.”

“But these are good hardworking people. Are you making fun of them?” I demanded.

A smile came over rich dad’s face. “Mrs. Martin is like a mother to me. I would never be that cruel.

I may sound unkind because I’m doing my best to point something out to the two of you. I want to expand your point of view so you can see something most people never have the benefit of seeing because their vision is too narrow. Most people never see the trap they are in.”

Mike and I sat there, uncertain of his message. He sounded cruel, yet we could sense he was trying to drive home a point.

With a smile, rich dad said, “Doesn’t that 25 cents an hour sound good? Doesn’t it make your heart beat a little faster?”

I shook my head no, but it really did. Twenty-five cents an hour would be big bucks to me.

“Okay, I’ll pay you a dollar an hour,” rich dad said, with a sly grin. Now my heart started to race. My brain was screaming, “Take it.

Take it.” I could not believe what I was hearing. Still, I said nothing. “Okay, two dollars an hour.” My little brain and heart nearly exploded. After all, it was 1956

and being paid $2 an hour would have made me the richest kid in the world. I couldn’t imagine earning that kind of money. I wanted to say yes. I wanted the deal. I could picture a new bicycle, new baseball glove, and the adoration of my friends when I flashed some cash. On top of that, Jimmy and his rich friends could never call me poor again. But somehow my mouth stayed shut.

The ice cream had melted and was running down my hand. Rich dad was looking at two boys staring back at him, eyes wide open and brains empty. He was testing us, and he knew there was a part of our

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emotions that wanted to take the deal. He understood that every person has a weak and needy part of their soul that can be bought, and he knew that every individual also had a part of their soul that was resilient and could never be bought. It was only a question of which one was stronger.

“Okay, five dollars an hour.” Suddenly I was silent. Something had changed. The offer was too

big and ridiculous. Not many grown-ups in 1956 made more than that, but quickly my temptation disappeared, and calm set in. Slowly, I turned to my left to look at Mike. He looked back at me. The part of my soul that was weak and needy was silenced. The part of me that

had no price took over. I knew Mike had gotten to that point too.

“Good,” rich dad said softly. “Most people have a price. And they have a price because of human emotions named fear and greed. First, the fear of being

without money motivates us to work hard, and then once we get that paycheck, greed or desire starts us thinking about all the wonderful things money can buy. The pattern is then set.”

“What pattern?” I asked. “The pattern of get up, go to work, pay bills; get up, go to work,

pay bills. People’s lives are forever controlled by two emotions: fear and greed. Offer them more money and they continue the cycle by increasing their spending. This is what I call the Rat Race.”

“There is another way?” Mike asked. “Yes,” said rich dad slowly. “But only a few people find it.” “And what is that way?” Mike asked. “That’s what I hope you boys will learn as you work and study

with me. That is why I took away all forms of pay.” “Any hints?” Mike asked. “We’re kind of tired of working hard,

especially for nothing.” “Well, the first step is telling the truth,” said rich dad. “We haven’t been lying,” I said.

People’s lives are forever controlled by two emotions: fear and greed.

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“I did not say you were lying. I said to tell the truth,” rich dad retorted.

“The truth about what?” I asked. “How you’re feeling,” rich dad said. “You don’t have to say it

to anyone else. Just admit it to yourself.” “You mean the people in this park, the people who work for you,

Mrs. Martin, they don’t do that?” I asked. “I doubt it,” said rich dad. “Instead, they feel the fear of not

having money. They don’t confront it logically. They react emotionally instead of using their heads,” rich dad said. “Then, they get a few bucks in their hands and again, the emotions of joy, desire, and greed take over. And again they react, instead of think.”