I grew up in Saratoga, California, an affluent suburb in the middle of Silicon Valley.

Here are some facts:

The average income of a Saratoga household is around $215,000 a year. The average listing price of a home in Saratoga is around $3,400,000. Zillow estimates the median home value of a Saratoga house to be $2,400,000.

A short drive around the area will have you immediately acquainted with the latest models of Tesla, Porsche, Audi, Mercedes, BMW, Lexus, etc. It's not uncommon for teenagers to receive newly purchased luxury cars for their 16th birthdays. While driving in the mountains, you'll pass backyard vineyards, tennis courts, pools, and sometimes even horse stables.

Saratoga has been ranked as the third most expensive housing market, the 18th richest zip code, the most expensive suburb in California, 4th top-earning town, a top twenty most educated small town...the designations of wealth and privilege go on and on.

My alma mater, Saratoga High School, is consistently ranked as one of the top 30 high schools in the nation for STEM education.

So if you're not familiar with the bay area, your first thought is probably that all Saratogans are, for lack of a better phrase, really fucking rich. Definitely privileged. Probably snobby too. Whether you still believe so by the end of this is totally your call. But give me, and everyone else who was raised in a similar area, a chance at the very least.

My parents embody the classic Silicon Valley immigrant story: grew up poor, immigrated to the US from Taiwan, met in graduate school, bonded over a shared cultural heritage, graduated with master's degrees in electrical engineering and computer science, and finally ending up near the booming Silicon Valley tech industry. They would be the only members of their families to call America home. They chose the job opportunities of South Bay for themselves and educational opportunities for me and my brother. My story isn't particularly unique or anything; if you're from the Silicon Valley, you've probably heard something like this before, if it doesn't describe your own family.

Yet, there seem to be a few universal beliefs that economically successful immigrants like my parents impart onto their children. First, that a good education will always precede economic success. Second, that hard work and determination will foster success in all fronts. Third, that it is important to save money. Fourth, that you must always think about the future-- work hard now so that you can live comfortably when you're older. Lastly, if you weren't paying attention before, education, education, education.

It is these beliefs that have fundamentally shaped the way I think about money and wealth. My parents make your typical Silicon Valley techie six figure salary, extremely high by most people's standards, but just average by California standards. The question has never been whether or not we as a family can afford something, but rather whether the aforementioned thing is worth the cost. I have always had a roof over my head, more than enough food to eat (shoutout to the unfortunate Freshman 15), and the ability to cover any unexpected expense if I really needed to. I'm reasonably well-traveled. I would consider my family to be well-off; and for that, I am eternally grateful.

However, I would not consider my family rich by any means, and I don't mean this in an elitist pity-me-I've-never-sat-first-class sort of way. It's just that a six figure salary doesn't get you as much in a place where the cost of living is much, much higher. A tech salary could probably actually get you a ridiculously ostentatious mansion in Middle of Nowhere, Montana (no offense to anyone living in Montana). But in Saratoga, it gets you a modest 4 bedrooms 2 bathroom home if you're brave enough to take on a heavy thirty-year mortgage. Don't get me wrong--a house this size is certainly big enough to live comfortably in. But to be completely honest, the estimated worth of houses like mine is completely ridiculous. And apart from real estate, gas prices are higher, businesses charge more, among other examples. So yes, we have higher salaries; but we also have a higher cost of living so everything just about evens out in the end.

To give a simplified example, if you make $100 a year in an expensive area with 75% of it going toward mortgages, living expenses, utility bills, etc., you have a solid $25 of disposable income a year. If you live in a cheaper place and have a lower salary of $50 a year, with half of it going toward living expenses (no mortgage needed, that same size house is all paid off), you also have $25 in disposable income a year. The question is, if you're the person making $100 a year, are you really that much richer than someone elsewhere making half your salary with lower living expenses?

My parents preach modesty in all aspects of life, and especially when it comes to finances. As I grew up wondering why I couldn't throw an extravagant birthday party every year like other kids, my parents made it very clear that although they had enough to support a comfortable living standard, there was no room in their budget for entertaining the shallow whims of an eight-year-old. Any noneducational toy I wanted had to be most importantly, affordable, and second, earned through good behavior or academic performance. My parents were of the opinion that minimal spending on materialistic things would allow for more important things like investing in the stock market, remodeling the house (which adds home value), and spending on various forms of academic enrichment. Growing up, my family lived so modestly that I thought we could not afford basic necessities. They made do without essentials like soap, tissues, paper towels, drinks, and purchased fruit, while stressing the lack of utility of brand-name things and luxury cars (I was almost embarrassed to have friends over when I was younger because I did not want them to regard me poorly when they had to blow their noses with toilet paper). In hindsight, this paints such a ridiculous picture, one of a family living so frugally in such an expensive home, but it's how I grew up.

I go to Washington University in St. Louis, a private school with a hefty tuition of $63,373 (including room and board) for the 2015-2016 year. Wash U is notorious for their need-aware admissions policy, and our student population is unsurprisingly skewed toward the more affluent end of the socioeconomic spectrum. Sometimes I think that I only got in because admissions saw my zip code and assumed that I would be able to pay full tuition. But I wouldn't be at Wash U without need-based financial aid, a merit scholarship, federal loans, work-study, and parental assistance covering the rest. I will graduate roughly $30,000 in debt, not unlike many other college graduates these days. Every semester that I have been at Wash U, I have had at least one minimum wage job to fund personal living expenses. When I get my first official job at the ripe age of 30 (thanks, medical school) I plan to pay my parents back. If there's anything that I've learned, it's that wealth is more than just the amount of money visibly spent on anything.

I recognize that there is a very fundamental privilege associated with growing up in a low-crime, high-income area that, try hard as I might, I will never quite shed. Admittedly, before going to college, I had never even entertained the idea of working a minimum wage job and had no qualms about living off a generous monthly allowance. However, ingrained into my very upbringing is the understanding that hard work is necessary for all things. And in terms of money, money is earned and should be saved whenever possible. I don't say this to act as an authority of any sort, for as I engage with the world I am continually learning about the complementary role that money and education should play in my life. And I implore you to do the same.