Imagine being in your early 20s, barely figuring out your own budget and suddenly becoming the legal guardian of an 8-year-old. That was me three months ago.
Overnight, my routine of instant oatmeal dinners and dodging overdraft fees turned into grocery lists, school pickups and conversations I never expected to have so soon. But the most jarring part hasn't been parenting itself — it's been watching how digitally wired my niece's relationship with money already is.
She talks about debit cards. She knows designer brands she's never worn. She mimics YouTubers recommending products she's never touched but now wants. This isn't just childlike curiosity — it's consumer behavior. And it's not random, either — it's generational.
My niece is part of Generation Alpha — born between 2013 and the mid-2020s — and while they're still kids, their exposure to digital marketing is anything but child's play. According to a 2024 Pew Research Center study, nearly half of young people say they're online "almost constantly," with exposure to digital content becoming increasingly pervasive.
Coming from a cash-only, immigrant household where every dollar had a destination, the digital economy my niece is growing up in feels like another universe. At her age, I was learning how to count coins and save for a toy with literal dollar bills. She's learning how to buy Roblox skins and earn cashback through apps. And while none of that is inherently wrong, it does mean she's learning how to spend before she understands how to save.
Even the platforms that market to kids are evolving. A 2024 California Western Law Review study documents the explosive growth of child-targeted influencer marketing, highlighting the urgent need for protective regulations as the industry reaches record valuations. These campaigns don't feel like commercials. They feel like recommendations from people they trust: vloggers, gamers and lifestyle creators whose faces fill their screens after school.
I want to teach her financial literacy, but the world is teaching her digital consumerism faster.
And I'll admit: Sometimes I feel like I'm the one playing catch-up. I didn't grow up with Apple Pay or "buy now, pay later." I didn't learn about interest rates until my first emergency credit card had already hit its limit. Now I'm trying to explain budgeting to a child whose understanding of money is already embedded in touchscreens and marketing algorithms.
It's not just overwhelming — it's emotional.
There's pressure, especially for young guardians like me to "keep up." I see other parents loading prepaid cards onto kids' phones or gifting Venmo balances like allowance. It feels modern, flexible. But I worry we're missing something: the foundational stuff. Learning to delay gratification. Understanding that having doesn't mean spending. That money is emotional before it's practical.
Financial literacy isn't just a class — it's a relationship we form with money. And for Gen Alpha, that relationship is being shaped in apps and marketplaces before they've even opened their first savings account.
Ironically, my niece and I have found some common ground on the financial anxiety front. She's not alone in feeling tempted by ads; I'm not alone in feeling unsure of how to guide her. According to Pew Research's latest financial literacy data, adults ages 18 to 49 are significantly more likely to learn about personal finances from the internet (50%) compared to traditional sources, highlighting a generational shift in how we acquire financial knowledge.
So lately, we've started learning together. I sit with her while we watch money explainer videos meant for kids. We downloaded a chore app that pays out in pretend currency before linking to real dollars. It's imperfect, but it's something.
Because if she's going to grow up in a world of digital money, I'd rather be part of the conversation than be left behind by it.
