While walking through Times Square, someone approaches me as if ey know me. Even though it's raining, I slow down and smile. "You seem like a friendly person," ey says. Immediately, I know what is up - this person wants money; I regret making eye contact. I desperately want to reply to eir comment that I look friendly by saying, "Actually, I'm an asshole," but I'm not an asshole, and since so many people in NYC genuinely are, I don't want to appear as though I am conforming. "Can I have a moment of your time?" ey asks. Again, I should lie, but I am killing the next hour until Heather gets off work, so, yes, I can offer a moment.
"Are you over 18?" Yes. "Are you employed?" Yes. "Do you like children?" Sort of. My last answer makes me chuckle aloud since I'm a teacher, but I don't want to explain this fact in fear of looking like the asshole I swear I am not. This ambassador for one of those feed starving children abroad programs, begins eir spiel about how fabulous, cheap, and rewarding sponsoring a kid is.
Ey wants to know if I've ever sponsored a kid previously. That's a funny story, actually, I say. When I was about fourteen, my church's youth group sponsored two kids, one from South America, the other from Africa. For a couple of months, we brought money to each meeting, pooling our donations to pay for the kids' food and water. On the third month, both kids "got worms." Since each kid was registered under a different person's name, we got near identical letters requesting that we send a significant amount of extra money to pay for the kids' doctor bills. It was quite a coincidence for two kids in two different continents to just happen to get ill at the same time, with the same ailment no less. It's funny how the organization didn't try to make it sound like a more legitimate medical condition, instead resorting to a generic and unconvincing "got worms."
When we compared the letters, it was decided unanimously that this organization was a scam and we would discontinue our contributions. I can still picture my friend Nicole angrily standing up, placing eir hands on eir hips, and spouting, "They did NOT both get worms!"
Shortly thereafter, our youth group instead involved itself with Heifer International. I have yet to find a charitable organization's mission that I believe in more. Though most charities offer no long-term solutions to the people they help, instead offering temporary relief to an ongoing problem, Heifer International actually provides families with long-lasting stability, employing the old adage of "give a man a fish, feed him for a day, teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime." Each family receives an animal that helps the family to become self-sufficient. For example, if you give a family milk, once they finish the milk, they are stuck waiting for milk until they are given more. If you give them a cow, however, they have a consistent supply of milk to drink as well as sell and share with others. Furthermore, they teach struggling communities to become agriculturally sound and sustainable. It is not necessary for Heifer International to remain in the communities to ensure success. Most individuals who receive an animal proceed to breed their livestock and give the offspring to another family in need, making them a partner in the organization, not just a beneficiary. Plus, it incorporates environmentally friendliness and gender equity into its programs. I highly encourage everyone to check out the website linked above, and give your support. I promise you'll be impressed.
So here I am, in the rain, preaching self-reliance and sustainability to the handout seeking individual on one of the world's busiest streets. Ey promises that eir organization employs similar philosophies, so I ask for a brochure to verify, but ey doesn't have anything visual for me to look at. Then ey wants my credit card number, which I refuse to give. I can tell this person is crushed, having spent so much time on me and not securing the sale. I apologize, explaining that I need to learn about the organization first and am not comfortable giving my credit card number to a stranger on the street. "What don't you trust about me?" ey asks. That's a pretty forward question, but I'll bite: "The last person I spoke to on the street was shirtless and told me to repent because Jesus was coming soon." That's the truth, even. For the record, I didn't give that person money either. Next time someone publicly asks me for a charitable donation, I intend to excuse myself, citing that I've "got worms."
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