My childhood room has shelves and shelves full of Archie Comics that I used to read dozens of times over. My sister and I would play a game where we would say the beginning of an Archie story and if you were able to finish the story, you would be some kind of victor. Amidst the piles of “Jughead with Archie” and “Betty and Veronica” comics, I had a few others. One of the digests was about Richie Rich., the richest boy of all time.

I loved those stories. I loved that he had clothing made out of money, his mother had a giant diamond ring that helped save a crime (remember that one, sis?), his awesome butler and private genius scientist.

Why did I think about Richie Rich this morning? As a student organizer for the upcoming Occupy Queens College Teach-in, I have been thinking more and more about how much we glorify money in American society. I thought about Richie Rich’s friends, who wore raggedy clothing. Why did he allow that to happen? More than that, why was it up to him?

  I became kind of sad thinking about one particular daydream that I had during tefillah (prayer services) in second grade. If we prayed well, we received a surprise gift! I used to fantasize winning this “contest”, and I would win (a) two hamsters, (b) nail polish that had a different color for each day of the week, and (c) 10 million dollars.

In this instance, the hamsters were my saviors, but to this day, I wish that my daydreams were more about building lasting relationships and strong communities.