It’s summer break. For some children, this could include camp, tutoring, sports, and various types of enrichment activities that many parents hope will benefit them in the future. For others, summer might be a child’s first taste of entrepreneurship: a lemonade stand, a flea market, babysitting, or selling something homemade.
In the years I have been working with children and families, parents often ask: When is it time to talk to children about money?
My answer is usually: sooner than you think, but maybe not by starting with money.
For young children, money can be abstract, especially in our increasingly cashless society. They watch adults tapping phones, swiping cards, or clicking buttons without fully understanding what’s happening underneath. Money can also be emotionally stressful, particularly in families where money narratives are associated with stress, scarcity, conflict, guilt, or shame.
Some parents have shared with me their fears that talking about money too openly will spoil their children, make them feel entitled, or cause them to focus too much on superficial things. I remind parents that this concern makes sense. Most parents try to raise their children who are down-to-earth, generous, and understand that money is not the only measure in life. But even if families forego money entirely, the children may still be able to learn something. You may learn that money is mysterious, dangerous, shameful, or too emotionally charged to discuss.
This is why I believe conversations about money don’t have to start with money itself. The better entry point might be the post.
Post asks: How do I help? How do I participate in this family? What can I do that is important? How do I know what is needed, how do I strive and take pride in being useful?
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How children develop self-confidence and freedom of choice through helping
Long before children understand money as a system, they learn whether they are capable of it. Developmental psychologist Erik Erikson described childhood as a time when children work through autonomy, initiative, and ultimately hard work. Children ask: Can I do things? Can I make decisions? Am I useful here?
Any parent who has ever tried to leave the house with a small child knows this phase well. The child insists, “I’ll do it myself,” while you mentally calculate how much faster it would be to do it for them. You want to put your own socks on, pour the milk, crack the egg, stir the dough, or push the shopping cart, often at the exact moment you’re tired, in a hurry, or trying to avoid another mess.
And yet, given enough time and patience, something important happens. The milk could leak. The eggshells could fall into the bowl. The clothes may not match. But then a satisfied expression appears on their faces: I did that myself.
This moment is important. The task may be small for the adult, but it is not for the child. It becomes one of the first building blocks of mastery, confidence, and agency. The child experiences their own effort as meaningful.
This desire to help starts early. In their 2006 Science study, Felix Warneken and Michael Tomasello found that children as young as 18 months old would help adults achieve their goals in a variety of situations, even without reward. Helping is not something adults have to force on children. In many cases, it is something that children already strive for. They want to be included. They want to be there.
How different cultures teach children responsibility through participation
Cultural research adds another layer. Barbara Rogoff and colleagues have written about Learning by Observing and Pitching In (LOPI), a way in which children learn by being involved in the everyday activities of their families and communities. In the 2015 volume edited by Maricela Correa-Chávez, Rebeca Mejía-Arauz and Barbara Rogoff, researchers describe how this form of learning is viewed in many indigenous communities in the Americas. Children are present during daily work. They watch, they try and over time you trust them more. They are expected to recognize what is needed and gradually assume real responsibility.
I saw this firsthand during my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the rural highlands of Peru, where there was less distinction between “child” tasks and “adult” tasks. There were community tasks: things that needed to be done to support the collective.
In a neighboring village there lived a four-year-old girl, Elena. I always enjoyed seeing her and had a particular fondness for her sunburned cheeks and gapped smile. One morning before a workshop we woke up around 4am when it was still dark. The other participants and the horse had not yet arrived, so her father sent them from their mud house to the town square, where there was no electricity, to get the horse and round up the others.
I remember watching her run down the mountain with determination. Twenty minutes later she came back beaming with a few participants and the horse. I asked her father, “Isn’t she scared? It’s so dark.”
He told me, “She’s seen us do this many times. She helps.”
I don’t share this story because I think every four year old should be sent into the dark to get a horse. What stuck with me was the clarity of her role. Elena contributed. She had been watching the adults around her. She understood the task. She knew she had something to offer.
How children learn values
So when families ask how to teach children about money management, I often help them consider a larger question: How do children learn values? Not just the value of a dollar, but also the value of their efforts, attention, time and participation.
For a toddler, that might mean carrying napkins to the table, putting toys in a basket, or helping to clean up a spill. For a young child, it might mean sorting socks, picking out fruit at the store, or feeding the dog. For an older child or teen, it might mean understanding the cost of an activity, saving for something worthwhile, planning a simple meal, comparing prices, or having an honest conversation about trade-offs. Children begin to internalize that contributing to life comes from relationships with others.
I also remind families that conversations about money are not a one-time thing. They unfold as children grow older, ask questions, compare themselves to peers or siblings, and ask themselves, “What place do I have in this family?” and finally, “What is my place in this world?”
When adults can talk about money calmly, children can begin to understand that money is a part of life, but not all of life. It can involve effort, boundaries, choice, generosity and responsibility. Children don’t always listen to what we say, but they are constantly watching what we do. The goal is to create a family culture where money can be discussed without secrecy or shame, where contribution is expected, and where children learn that their effort, care, and participation are important.
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/unscripted/202607/when-should-we-talk-to-kids-about-money
