Gentry
"Peninsula FYI"
January, 2003 |
Giving Back Christine VanDeVelde
offers her thoughts on true charity
In the fall, it seems as though we go from one fundraising event to
another -- breakfasts, lunches, opening nights, cocktail parties, book
signings, auctions, dinner dances, teas. By the end of the year, I have
just about had it. Not with any of the good causes that call for my
attention and not even so much with the social whirl. I have had it with a
certain type that travels the charity circuit -- the donor who uses
charitable causes as a means of social climbing, expects applause in
return for her checks, boasts of her largesse while sometimes reneging on
her pledges (but only after the event program is printed), and, worst of
all, is patronizing toward those who can't afford to give as a display of
wealth.
Everything that is wrong with this type was thrown into sharp relief for
me when I heard a story told by a young woman at a recent charity event.
Upon the death of her grandmother, a librarian from Albequerque, the young
woman had found a ledger that chronicled her grandmother's charitable
giving. Beginning, in the 1950s, with monthly $5 donations to the NAACP,
the ACLU, the local PTA, her grandmother had kept a record of everything
she had ever given during her lifetime. It was also a chronicle of her
life, showing the financial ups and downs of a family, continuing through
her later life when she became quite wealthy and the size of her giving
increased. Yet no one in the family knew about any of this. This was, her
granddaughter noted, just "her quiet monthly record."
This, to me, is true charity, the habit of charity we were taught about in
school, a "mitzvah," a virtuous deed. It is charity that is freely given
and modest. And make no mistake, this is serious philanthropy, because it
is magnanimous and unconditional. This kind of giving makes it possible
for organizations to survive in tough times like these, amid stock market
declines and an economic recession.
Of course, charities absolutely need major donors. As Margaret Thatcher
once noted, "No one would remember the Good Samaritan if he'd only had
good intentions. He had money, too." Major benefactors make an enormous
difference to society. While almost no donations over $1 million are made
anonymously, public philanthropy is not always about grandstanding or
social advancement. It comes from people's deep convictions or because
they just want a job that needs doing to get done.
Yet, although money is a great gift, it isn't everything. Most
institutions from our schools to Gamble Garden Center and Planned
Parenthood couldn't operate without the enormous number of hours put in by
volunteers. According to The Non-Profit Times, 44% of adults in
this country volunteered in 2000, a total of 83.9 million individuals.
Their donated time added up to approximately 15.5 billion hours,
representing the equivalent of 9 million full-time employees, whose work,
if compensated, would be valued at $239 billion. And, tellingly, the
average dollar donation from a household that volunteered was double that
of the household that did not volunteer. That is benevolence.
I remember, at a certain age, believing I could change the world. Perhaps
it was the times -- the sixties. Perhaps the world I knew was small. I no
longer think in terms of saving the world, though it is one of the
fantasies of possessing great wealth -- that you could get the job done.
Now I think in terms of making a difference and the legacy of a tradition
of charity, of teaching my daughter, by my example, not only to better
herself, but to help others -- quietly and effectively. That I can do. |
