THE QUESTION: Do you give your children an allowance?

Some parents give their kids a small amount of money to spend freely or save every week, others give cash in exchange for doing chores, and there are those who expect them to earn extras by taking on small jobs outside the house. All systems are designed for the kid’s benefit, of course, with some kvetching-prevention thrown in for everyone’s mental health.

Do you give your children an allowance?

Yes:

Right now, we don’t do an allowance; we give a reasonable amount upon request for the snack machines in school or the pizza shop, and we deposit a set amount monthly into the kids’ bank accounts, which they’re aware of but they don’t have access to.

I’m not of the opinion that kids need to earn money doing the household tasks that are their responsibility, and we discuss with them how we invest their savings, the magic of compound interest, etc., every once in a while.

When they want something extra special, we either decide to buy it for them or decide not to, and that’s the end of it (kidding! That triggers a weeks-/months-/years-long campaign of why they neeeeeeed that very special thing, and we reassess at birthdays, Chanukah gift time, afikomen, or if they have sufficiently worn us down, depending on the item and how shitahdig we are about it. For all other things, there are cool aunts and uncles.

Short answer? Yes.

But.

It’s not a “gift,” and not a reward for existing. It’s also not in exchange for basic household chores and responsibilities; that’s called being part of a family. I see allowance as a teaching tool, a way to prepare kids to handle money responsibly before it really counts.

Giving kids a small, set amount weekly or monthly for their discretionary spending is a conscious, measured, educational tool to teach my kids budgeting and money-management skills while the playing field is small and the stakes still low.

The real point isn’t the money. It’s the conversation — ongoing, not just once. We discuss money management in a real way, and the allowance gives them the opportunity to try, fail, learn, and grow while I’m still close enough to walk them through it.

We have conversations like, “What are you saving for?” “If you had double your allowance this week, what would you do with it?” “Did it feel more fun to save for X or spend on Y?” I talk them through it. I let them fail small while the stakes are still low. Because if my kid turns 18 knowing how to budget a Chol Hamoed trip, compare prices in a store, or say, “No, I’m saving up for something better”? That’s not pocket money. That’s real-life empowerment. Those are the skills that every young adult should have (and too many look back and wonder why they weren’t taught them young....)

So instead of “giving an allowance,” I frame it like I’m giving them a budget. Let them mess it up. Let them feel what it’s like to spend too fast, or save for something that suddenly stops mattering, and also what it feels like to hold out for something really worth it, to walk past a store because they’re proud of their savings, or to buy a gift for someone with their own money and feel amazing. I tie it to a conversation, not a spreadsheet. Because the chinuch isn’t in the bank account — it’s in the conversation.

NO:

I don’t give my kids an allowance.

There are definitely reasons to — it teaches them financial responsibility, to save their money and delay gratification, to think before they spend — but honestly, I just remember being a kid and using my allowance on brownie bars from the snack machine and learning absolutely nothing. I figured out financial literacy when I started babysitting and working in camps. I wasn’t learning anything from saving a dollar a week until I had a whopping four dollars by the end of the month.

Instead of giving an allowance, if my kids need something, I purchase it for them. If they want something, they can either dig into their Chanukah/birthday savings or earn it in some other way. (Sometimes it’s an extra project, like reorganizing a kitchen cabinet or vacuuming out the car. Sometimes it’s just learning how to do something, like riding a bike or managing the monkey bars.) They do have weekly chores, but they aren’t going to get paid for that; it’s simply a part of living in a house and contributing to the household. And not once in the past decade and a half has a child asked me for an allowance, so I think we’re doing just fine.

No, I don’t believe in allowances.

There’s the obvious fact that, inflation being what it is, 25 cents a week probably wouldn’t cut it in this day and age (the going rate in many of the classics I loved reading as a kid). Multiply today’s rates by the number of children I have, and allowances become infeasible for our budget.

Baruch Hashem, my children are provided with clothing, food, books, the occasional treat, and all of life’s necessities — rent-free. Paying them each a “salary” for being part of our family doesn’t seem logical.

However, I do believe strongly in giving children a chance to earn and save money. They should learn the value of money, how to save up for something they really want (that I don’t necessarily want to get for them), and be familiar with the idea of putting away money for the future, which is always a good thing to learn when you’re young. I will pay my older children for babysitting, weeding the lawn, organizing all of our books (so we actually have a system instead of a jumble), or cleaning the garage. One of my sons prepares Mishnayos to learn with his younger brother twice a week, and he gets paid for the chavrusashaft. But I make it very clear that there is no payment for regular chores like putting away laundry, room maintenance, and picking up the toys scattered all over the playroom.

In our home, we don’t hand out salaries, but we’re happy to give our children opportunities.

No allowance here.

And no paying my children for helping clean up the kitchen, no hiding money in the toy closet so that the one who does the organizing receives a windfall. Also no paying for a sibling when my older one runs a day camp. It’s not fair? Well, I can think of many worse fates than babysitting your younger brother, especially when you consider that you’re growing up in a loving, happy family, with clean clothing and a delicious supper on the table every night.

How do we deal with all their stuff? Needs are on me, obviously. And within reason (we wait for sales, etc.), I’ve never said no to something my children need because of money. If they need it, Hashem will provide me with the means to give it to them.

Wants are on them. The chocolate bar, the brand-name whatever, the 17,000 blow dryers and crimpers and curlers and straighteners; they can work — outside my home — to earn money for whatever it is. And still, I discourage their buying it. Wait five minutes, and the fad will pass. I’m very no-nonsense.

The murky in-between stuff is murky and in-between. I’m sure I get it wrong as often as I get it right. That’s life. But I’ll tell you what I tell my children: Every penny I earn is earmarked for them, goes to them. The money I save I’m saving for them. What I’m not spending on your dinner out with friends is paying for supper for the entire family. You’ll thank me tomorrow when it’s your sibling who wants the [insert unnecessary item here].

No, we don’t.

In our house, financial education begins with the basic concept of needs versus wants. You need shoes? I’ll buy them. You want brand-name scrunchies in ten different colors because your friend has them? That’s a want. And wants, in our family, are earned.

I’ll be honest. I don’t really understand this trend of throwing free money at kids every week “just so they can learn money management.” How does that teach money management and not entitlement? We all know how easy it is to spend free money and how much more careful you are with money that was hard-earned with effort and time. Earning it yourself is the basics of building money-management skills.

I want my children to be able to handle financial reality, not a fantasy world where weekly envelopes are coming to them just because. So I teach them to work, how to find and hold down appropriate jobs, and how to save up toward the things they want.

And besides the chinuch aspect... let’s be real. Where exactly is this free money supposed to come from? Our rent went up, tuition’s due, the grocery bills are through the roof. Multiply “a small and age-appropriate weekly allowance” by six kids and suddenly I’m expected to hand out an extra $100 a week I don’t have. 

The necessities that my kids need — the clothing, shoes, accessories, and supplies — cost more than enough. I don’t give myself a budget for “extra treats” because real life doesn’t hand you a weekly envelope just because you exist. And my kids know: If it’s a need, we take care of it. If it’s a want, they can earn it, save for it, or buy it. An allowance is both an extra we can’t afford and a message I don’t want to send.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 973)