Courtesy Payam Zamani
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Payam Zamani, author of "Crossing the Desert: The Power of Embracing Life's Difficult Journeys." It has been edited for length and clarity.
I was born into a life where tests and difficulties were the norm. My family was Baha'i, a religious minority in Iran. During the Iranian revolution, we lost many rights, including the right to education. When I was 16, my parents decided I was safer being smuggled out of the country than remaining in Iran.
My older brother had crossed into Pakistan ahead of me, and together, we came to the US as refugees. We landed in San Francisco in 1988 with $75 between us. The next week, we started working in a screen printing shop. My brother was 23 and I was 17.
My brother and I were entrepreneurs at heart and hungry for financial security. We worked for a painting franchise, which taught us how to run a business. Then, in 1994, we founded Autoweb, the first online car-buying platform.
By 1997, I had $1 million in the bank. I invested wisely and founded another company, One Planet Group, now valued at hundreds of millions. Yet, I still feel embarrassed to share the exact number of my financial success because I don't see it as a true reflection of my worth.
About 20 years ago, I met my wife, another Baha'i from Iran. We have two daughters, who are now 18 and 19. They were born in the San Francisco Bay Area.
I can't understate how important living in America has been for me. I still believe that no matter where you are in the world, it's a place that can offer you hope.
To teach my girls that, I took them abroad. In 2018, when they were 12 and 13, we moved to the Czech Republic. They attended an international Baha'i school in a small town about 90 minutes outside Prague. They went to school with kids from 30 different countries and got a more worldly perspective than they would have if we'd stayed in California.
When the pandemic struck, we had to return to the US. We chose to settle in New York City so the girls could experience cultural, socio-economic, and racial diversity that simply isn't present in the Bay Area.
Courtesy Payam Zamani
I believe that humans become their best selves through trials and difficulty. Like gold, we're purified by the fire. But growing up white-presenting in America with immense wealth, my daughters had little trial by fire. I worried about that — in fact, I still do.
I've always given the girls a reasonable allowance. It's not about what I can afford, but what I think is good for them. I want their allowance to cover their essential life expenses like housing, books for college, and groceries, but only just. I don't want to pay for fast fashion or dinners out with friends. My wife and I ensured that money never came to the girls freely. I want them to run out of money and be conscious about spending. I hope those small tests prepare them for the bigger challenges they'll inevitably face.
Rather than teach the girls specific budgeting approaches, I've let them learn through experience what works for them. I've always believed that the best way for children to learn money management is by letting them actually manage their own finances. This approach is practical, not theoretical.
They can take responsibility for their money, decide how much to save and give to charity, and understand the importance of living within their means to avoid credit card debt. This hands-on experience, rather than another lecture from Dad, is invaluable in teaching financial prudence and responsibility.
Most importantly, I want my daughters to work. The Baha'i faith teaches that working in service of others is equal to worship. I don't want to deprive my children of that prayer.
While I plan to leave my daughters a small inheritance to ensure their financial security, I won't leave them enough money that they don't need to work. I want my children to have enough money to house themselves, get an education, and meet their basic needs. Beyond that, I believe money can corrupt if it's given rather than earned.
I also think that wealth is only commendable if you earn it and then spend it on the betterment of the world. I use most of my wealth to try to do just that (both during my lifetime and in my will) by donating to spiritual causes and those that address racial inequalities, specifically those of Black Americans.
That will not only make this world better, but it will also allow my daughters to earn their own wealth and learn about themselves and the world along the way.
