The Price of Freedom: Converting Currencies, Converting Mindsets - Part I

Growing Up Middle Class in DhakaPermalink

I grew up middle class in Dhaka, Bangladesh, straddling the line between comfort and constraint. While we always had food on the table, a roof over our heads, clothes to wear, and school to attend, our lifestyle was modest. We never owned a car, and our single family vacation abroad was a brief trip across the border to India. My parents owned their home, but could only afford property in low-lying land. During severe floods, which came every few years, I remember yelling at passing boats from our window as the roads were too deep under water for walking.

My father worked his entire career at Bangladesh’s central bank, compensated more in prestige and security than money. My mother stayed home to raise us, carefully managing our limited disposable income.

Education and expectationsPermalink

Education loomed large in our household—it was my father’s escape route from poverty. He was determined it would be mine too. “You’ll be a rickshaw puller and live on the streets!” became his frustrated refrain whenever I showed disinterest in studying. My worth seemed measured solely by the grades I could deliver, always in comparison to classmates who appeared more naturally gifted at academics.

The pressure was constant. I wasn’t allowed an allowance growing up, and my parents feared that tutoring students or any other jobs would distract from my studies. Their singular focus was clear: education first, everything else second.

First Taste of Financial IndependencePermalink

In grade 9, I was finally granted some independence. Allowed to attend school and tutoring on my own, I saw the daily travel money in my hands as an opportunity. Instead of taking auto-rickshaws, I would squeeze onto local buses or walk, despite the punishing 100°F heat. While others might have seen hardship, I found meaning in this small freedom—it was the first chapter of my own story.

Within two years, I had saved nearly 10,000 Taka (about $150 USD) from my travel allowance. My mother joked, “kipter paisa hoy” (a miser gets wealthy), but I heard the pride behind her teasing. I had discovered a new source of self-worth that had nothing to do with grades.

Culture Shock: Arriving in AmericaPermalink

Fall 2008 marked a dramatic turning point as I left for undergraduate studies in the United States. Despite Colgate University’s generous scholarship covering about 97% of expenses, even the small remaining portion strained my family’s resources.

My first week in America brought a stark reality check at a local restaurant. As I converted menu prices to Taka in my head, my stomach churned at the relatively large figures. A wise upperclassman from Nepal advised, “You have to stop converting prices to local currency for your sanity.” I ordered the cheapest item, determined not to feel left out while equally determined to make it on my own.

Working Through CollegePermalink

I promised myself: coming to the America for studies was ultimately my decision and I had to be responsible for it. I would never ask my parents for money again. Freedom demanded responsibility. This led me to maximize every work opportunity available—20 hours weekly at the IT help desk, positions in the library, research assistantships, residential advisor roles, and video journalism work. Summers and winters found me staying on campus, picking up extra hours wherever possible.

While I appreciated my professors’ encouragement toward academic careers, I discovered that I preferred the straightforward exchange of work for pay over the endless cycle of papers and exams. My grades couldn’t slip, but I knew academia wasn’t my calling. This balance came at a cost—while classmates socialized on weekends, I juggled work shifts and study sessions.

Breaking Free from Old Money StoriesPermalink

In spring 2012, I graduated with no debt and roughly $12k in savings from my work-study jobs. A few months earlier, I had landed a job as a software engineer at a fintech company in NYC called FactSet, with a starting salary of $75k. The amount seemed so large to me then and the job set me up to secure a work visa and build my life in the U.S.

During my graduation week, the Computer Science department awarded me $100 in bookstore credits for my contributions as the head of the computer science club. Browsing the finance section of the bookstore, I remembered my parents’ skepticism about investing: “We’re not the kind of people who make riches in business or the stock market.”

But I was eager to learn. I bought A Random Walk Down Wall Street by Burton Malkiel and One Up on Wall Street by Peter Lynch. Stepping into this new chapter of life, I felt optimism and determination to rewrite my financial story. I was ready to navigate the brave new world of employment and investing, equipped with lessons from my past and hope for the future.