I was just rereading part of Robert Ludlum's The Bancroft Strategy. I've read it before, but I picked up the paperback the other day, purely (I know that this is going to sound strange) because I wanted to be able to read this part again:
Andrea set down her teacup with an audible clink- Spode on Spode, politer than clearing her throat, she thought.
There are some other sequences in there that I like rereading, too, but that image -- it takes place in a governors meeting of the immensely wealthy and powerful Bancroft Foundation, a group which Andrea's just been invited to join -- speaks to me of elegance and warm style. I can see the sunlight glinting off the polished wood of the conference table, highlighting the flowers in the vases on the end tables, the water in the crystal glasses, the silver pitchers, and, of course, the china. None of which, other than the Spode itself, is in the actual text; I can just see it.
Well, I told you it was strange. But here's something stranger: when I read about the function of the foundation, which is to apply its immense financial resources to the betterment of the world through the institution and funding of humanitarian efforts, both theoretical and practical, I find myself wondering why I can't do anything that that, even in my own little orbit. (Because, of course, I don't have anything like their resources; one one billionth of it, if that!) But I have some spare funds, and in an era of microloans, surely I can find someplace to put my meager amount to good use? I'm sure that I can.
But I don't. Its not sexy enough for me to donate, say, twenty five or fifty dollars to the local soup kitchen or Boys Club (what do they have to do with me, I find myself thinking), and as for the well-known organizations, my money wouldn't pay for the postage that they would use over the next three years to continually send me letters filled with pictures both pathetic and evocative. So I don't contribute to either. I ought to, I think. But I don't.
Somehow, I need to find a place where I can feel that my money makes a difference, in support of a cause about which I genuinely care. And I think that's the nut of it: when it comes right down to it, I don't genuinely care. Sorry about people who are homeless, battered, disadvantaged, ill? You bet, sure am. Moved to do more than send the occasional check? Nope. I don't know why, but I find it very hard to sustain interest and compassion in anything that I'm not directly involved in, and even then, only for the duration of the involvement. I guess its a character flaw, indicative of a person more shallow than I like to admit.
Because I resent and reject emotional appeals, I need something that I can care intellectually about. So that I remember, I need something that will remind me, gently, that they appreciate my support, and would appreciate more, without in any way implying that they expect it. Does that sound like I want someone to tug at their forelock while begging humbly for a scrap to eat? It does, to me. But I think, shorn of that nasty image, thats what I need. An intellectually gripping and recurring appeal.
I know, thats a hell of a lot to ask.
4 comments:
You are not alone. Last month, I fielded yet another call from a foundation that wants to do liver "procedures" for children...I just had enough, and told the caller..."Let them die...its God's will". The shocked silence was felt on both ends, on HER end because I blew off her "cause", and on my end because I just took the Lord's name in vain. I claim emotional exhaustion, and I suppose God will forgive me, but I am sure the lady from the Liver Foundation NEVER will.
It would have been MUCH more honest if I had simply said "No, I don't want to pay for somebody else's life, no, not even if they are kids, no, its MY money, and I am going to spend it on MY kids." I think that would have been MUCH more honest and true to myself.
The real joy of charitable giving is when you do it without any expectation of thanks. Then there is no emotional blackmail on either side....I envy the fellow who puts hundred dollar bills in Sally Ann kettles every year. Ten kettles, every year, and this year has been the 20th year he (or she) has done this.
So Bill, why would YOU want to give away YOUR hard earned money? Why would YOU want to run your own charitable foundation? Whats the pay off?
I don't want to run my own charitable foundation. I just want the gleaming table and the delicate china and all of that which comes with it. Am I serious? Well, yes, about wanting that stuff. I just eat up the image.
But as to our own 'foundation' -- well, kind of, yes. Because there are things that I always care about, but they're not the traditional things. And they're directly related to me. For example: I always care about giving girls the best chances possible, because I have a daughter. I always care about kids learning in school how wonderful education can be, because I have a daughter in school. I always want kids to have the feeling that life is a banquet, not a meal plan, because... you get the idea.
I just don't know how to do it, even a little tiny bit.
Someday, I plan to completely rebuild a village in India. People ask why I chose India. I give them really compelling reasons, like poverty levels and standards of education and blah, blah, blah.
The truth? I like that they speak English and I dig the food. I figure I'm going to have to spend time there, and I like Indian food better than anything from China or Africa.
Sometimes I think that's shallow. Sometimes I think that it's my money and I'll spend it where I want to and I don't have to justify it to anybody.
I find the trick to charitable giving is finding something you can really, really get behind. My mother-in-law knits dolls for AIDS victims and she's really passionate about it. My neighbor spends a fortune on blankets for the animal shelter because she has five dogs who she spoils senseless.
It's like voting. Yes, it would be great if we could be totally benevolent about it, but we're not. I'm going to vote for the candidate who cares the most about what I care about, and it's the same with charities.
Oh, and Bill? Regardless of your charitable opinions, you should still do your Amazon shopping at IttyBiz. :)
"I find the trick to charitable giving is finding something you can really, really get behind." Yes, I agree. But finding such a thing -- nothing sticks to me. It's like all those 'opportunities to give' are Velcro fasteners and my psyche is a slab of polished steel. You'd never know it to look at me, though.
As for Amazon: anything? How does that work?
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