It seems that the days where wealthy parents could slide their kids $200,000 for a down payment on a home or drop a thousand or three in the bank every month to cover their rent are on hold.
Trust-fund babies, or trustafarians as some people call them, have help expedited gentrification in many cities across the country in lieu of rich parents buying their children luxury condos and sponsoring their expensive lifestyles.
But, with even the wealthiest group of Americans seeing their investment portfolios shrink, many have opted to pull back on their generosity in order to keep their own homes in order.
That means those who have been able to coast on the fortune of others have had to come up with ways to find their own.
Luis Illades, a restaurant owner, told the New York Times that he’s seen an influx of individuals in their late 20s who have never had paying jobs looking for work. However, some immediately bolt from his café the minute they realize what real work entails.
“They say, ‘You want me to work eight hours?’ ” Illades said. “There is a bubble bursting.”
If you know a rich kid unfamiliar with the concept of a demanding job, please don’t tell them about overtime. It might him drive them to leap off a bridge.
The number of sales in trendy areas like Williamsburg in Brooklyn have seen almost a quarter drop in the first three months of this year compared with the same period a year ago, according to HMS Associates, a Brooklyn appraisal firm.
After no longer receiving monetary aid from parents some have had to sell their places for less than the bank is owed to avoid foreclosure. Others have had to scale back substantially – in some cases meaning moving back home.
As you can imagine, reading about the plight of privileged children in the recession breaks my heart. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for individuals who’ve only had to lift their hand to collect cash from their parents coming to the realization that things have gotten so bad that they may have to like work or something.
I won’t say that I’m jealous of trust-fund kids. Even if it’s true, I just won’t say it.
Still, there have been times when my sister had to remind me that I was not the Sultan of Brunei and we don’t have rich parents. In that respect, I would never wish that on anyone. So, sorry rich kids. Hopefully the economy bounces back soon…and hopefully one of your parents can adopt me.
It’s never too late.
Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Michael Arceneaux hails from Houston, lives in Harlem and praises Beyoncé’s name wherever he goes. Follow him on Twitter.