When I was growing up in Monrovia, the capital of Liberia, I sold doughnuts, popcorn and Kool Aid every day after school so that my family had some money and I could pay my school fees. It was a tough life.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Last time I was in Jamaica I financed a teacher to teach in an orphanage.
We used to tie-dye T-shirts and sell them to classmates. We used to make egg rolls and sell them at street fairs. I worked at the mall. My parents probably spent more money on the gas driving me to different jobs than I made.
Growing up poor, I didn't even have a lunch to take to school. Lunch was 26 cents, and we didn't even know what 26 cents looked like. I didn't love school because I wanted to disguise that I was poorer than everybody else.
When I was younger I was completely without money - when I was studying in Budapest, when I was a refugee.
I had a really hard time growing up; we were a large family, and we didn't have much money at home.
There was an undercurrent of poverty throughout my childhood. We lived with my grandmother in her two-bedroom flat, and I slept with my parents. We had cheap holidays, I had to save for my bike and get a paper round as soon as I was old enough.
My mother went to work in the homes of white folk, usually living in and looking after their children. The money was small.
I grew up in an affluent suburban world and never worried about money until I'd grown up and found wonderfully original ways to screw up my life.
I grew up on a sugar plantation in Trinidad, on an expat estate, and that meant I had no idea about money until a lot later than most children.
My mother was a public school teacher in Virginia, and we didn't have any money, we just survived on happiness, on being a happy family.