In an age where the loudest voices often drown out the wisest, I’ve chosen to take the road less traveled: to curate an intentional intellectual space for my household. As a parent, college graduate, and psychology major, I understand that building a better life requires more than hard work; it requires conscious design.
From what my family reads to who we associate with, every choice matters. This post is a reflection of how I’ve shaped our home into a space that values critical thinking, emotional health, and intellectual growth, and why I don’t leave those things to chance.
Designing a Household Like an Architect
I’ve always believed in designing the kind of life I want, not just reacting to whatever comes. This mindset extends to how I raise my teenage son. I read, invest, plan, and reflect not just for me, but for him too. There’s a reason why certain families seem to create generational success: they build blueprints. They don’t send their children into the world with nothing but hope. They send them with tools.
That’s what I’m doing.
We don’t follow trends in this house. We follow values.
Some of the people I admire the most, those who have built first-generation wealth or consciously designed a different kind of life, have all shared this same principle: live your life with intention. If you don’t come from a family that handed you a ready-made map, you have to draw your own. You have to design the life you want, which often means breaking with what’s familiar.
That’s where class culture really comes into play. When you’re not born into the middle or upper class, there’s a different kind of mental heavy lifting involved. You don’t just inherit access, you build structure. And that means rethinking everything: your time, your space, your priorities, and your people.
Why I’m Selective About Influence
For example, we have a family friend who shared how her husband grew up in an unstable, traumatic household. She admitted that he now listens to Rogan and similar content. And she said it as if it were casual, but to me, that was revealing. Because that’s exactly the pattern I see over and over: men who are still lost, still hurting, still searching for identity, and they latch on to these voices that package pain as power.
This week, I told her that I prefer my son not to become close with people who look up to Andrew Tate or Joe Rogan ( her husband only listens to the latter). She probably thought I was being judgmental. But I am being protective.
There’s a difference.
I’m not trying to control every interaction my son has. He can go to teen night, play video games, meet people. But I also teach him how to discern. Over time, you want friends who align with your values. Friends who are kind, curious, growth-minded, not those trapped in echo chambers of toxic masculinity, anti-intellectualism, or conspiracy culture.
Here’s the truth I’ve observed, and it’s not just a theory, it’s based on real interactions: I have never met a genuinely healthy, emotionally grounded, intellectually sharp individual who idolizes Andrew Tate, Joe Rogan, or voted for this current administration. Not one.
Sure, they may sound intelligent at first, but the moment you start to scratch beneath the surface, you often find unresolved trauma, ego-driven ideologies, and shallow parroting of someone else’s thoughts. Conspiracies. Misinformation. Misplaced anger. No critical analysis, no self-reflection.
That’s not who I want mentoring my son, directly or indirectly.
Curating an Intellectual Space Is Not Elitist, It’s Protective
Just like we think about food for the body, I think about mental nutrition for the mind. What are we feeding ourselves daily, through podcasts, conversations, media, or social media? If my son spends hours listening to someone who centers fear, ego, and domination, that’s a type of diet too.
We can’t pretend those inputs don’t matter. I’ve noticed that when we’re more intentional about our inputs, books, calm spaces, and curious people, we’re naturally more regulated. Our thinking clears. Our emotional response slows down. We become less reactive and more reflective. That’s the real power of intellectual curation, it’s not just about academics. It’s about your baseline state of being.
Some people mistake this kind of intentionality for elitism. But let’s be honest: families in the upper class do this all the time. They protect their kids’ environments because they understand how powerful surroundings are. They choose schools, social circles, and even aesthetics based on the values they want to reinforce.
So why shouldn’t I?
Just because I didn’t grow up wealthy doesn’t mean I can’t adopt those same protective strategies, especially when they’re rooted in wisdom. My mentors, many of whom built their lives from scratch, taught me that it’s not about money. It’s about clarity.
You become the environment you’re in.
In fact, this family friend grew up in a trailer, and despite having some advantages I didn’t, she still found herself looked down upon when she dated into a wealthier family. That dynamic said everything to me: environment and class culture matter, and they shape what’s considered acceptable, professional, even human.
Again, I’m not saying discrimination is right. But I do understand why families guard their environments. Because when you’ve cultivated something healthy, you protect it.
Septum Piercings, Teen Freedom, and Working-Class Perspectives
In my psychology class, my professor told a story about a teen who wanted a septum piercing. Her mom was against it, saying it was unprofessional. My professor, who wears a septum ring herself, flipped it down and showed the mom that it could be hidden when working. The mom changed her mind.
The message? Teens need to “see themselves” and find their identities. I agree, to a point.
But I also wonder: from what environment is that advice coming? My professor has her own practice, her own worldview, her own biases. Even as a psychologist, she brings her own lens, just like we all do. That’s why in psychology, we consider not just the sample size of a study, but the context.
If all your data comes from suburban teens or economically comfortable environments, you can’t generalize your conclusions to kids raised with a different set of challenges. Environment matters.
So yes, I give my son freedom, but within a framework. I don’t let him fall on a sword I can help him avoid. This is especially true for boys of color who cannot afford to walk with their hoodies in their neighborhoods, with their hands in their pockets, or wear certain styles that are associated with certain stereotypes. (I’ve been guilty of this myself – associating styles with stereotypes.) In some places, this can be the difference between life and death, between being seen as innocent or guilty.
The Power of Saying “No, That’s Not for Us”
It’s okay to say “that’s not for us.” In fact, I think more parents need to reclaim that phrase. Just because someone else’s household allows certain language, media, or relationships doesn’t mean you have to.
Boundaries aren’t about judgment, they’re about values alignment.
In our home:
- We value empathy over ego.
- We value books over bombast.
- We value emotional regulation over reaction.
- We value conversation, not conspiracy.
I don’t say that to be better than anyone. I say it because those values shape the man my son is becoming. And if I don’t set the tone in my household, someone else will.
Raising a Conscious Young Man in a World Full of Noise
Raising a thoughtful, well-rounded young man today requires more than discipline. It requires discernment. I’m not raising him to survive, I’m raising him to thrive. That means he needs to be clear-headed, emotionally intelligent, and intellectually grounded.
There are ideologies floating around disguised as empowerment, especially for men. Some tell young men that vulnerability is weakness. That intellect is snobbery. That women are objects. That systemic injustice is a myth.
I call that what it is: psychological poison.
I’m raising my son to reject that.
Final Thoughts: A Family Built on Intention
Honestly, my son’s groundedness is not an accident. People comment on how well he carries himself, how emotionally aware he is, but they rarely see that it came from years of me doing the opposite of what I was told. I didn’t follow the crowd. I didn’t let society shame me into silence or smallness. I followed what I felt was right, even when others laughed, rolled their eyes, or said I was “doing too much” or “not enough.”
And now, those same people admire the result. But they still don’t understand the process. That’s why I say: do what your soul knows is right. Everyone may not see it, but your child will feel it.
People might not understand why I homeschool, why I set firm boundaries, or why I guide my son’s social circle. But that’s okay. I’m not raising him for people, I’m raising him for purpose.
This is a family built on intention. On consciousness. On courage.
Some days that means being the odd one out. But more often, it means knowing that when my son looks around, he’s standing in a space designed for his growth, not his confusion.
And that’s worth everything.
TL;DR , Key Takeaways
- Curating your family’s environment is an act of love, not control.
- Avoiding toxic influences like Andrew Tate or Joe Rogan is a protective decision based on values, not judgment.
- Many families in the upper class do this intentionally, it’s not elitism, it’s strategy.
- Intellectual and emotional health begins at home. Don’t leave it to chance.
- Saying “that’s not for us” is a powerful parenting tool in an unconscious culture.
- First-generation wealth builders often live with intention, because they must design what others inherit.
The Broke College Student 
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