Let’s Work it Out on the Remix
Earlier this week I was driving to pick my youngest up from camp when I found myself a few cars back from a two-car collision. I watched in shock as a young man pulled himself out of the passenger side of his totaled car, and then pulled over to call 911 and see if I could help. Apart from two passersby who took this as an opportunity to film the wreckage, no one slowed or stopped their vehicles, which tracks with a recent experience I call “Victoria and her two kids in a hot car with a dead battery.” Three girls in their early 20s wearing matching church-camp t-shirts piled out of the second car – all three seemed physically unharmed but deeply shaken up. As I sat with the group waiting for EMS to arrive, one of the young women asked if I could give her a hug.
I did little to nothing to help in this situation except stay calm and give hugs (which is also an accurate description of my approach to motherhood). There are collective/systemic functions and supports that society, government, and private sector maintain which provide aid in these types of crises – mutual aid, health care, towing services, Kleenex. They respond to emergencies with varying degrees of equity, outcomes, and tears absorption – but what role do individuals play?
Since she was able to talk my now six-year-old would point out people on the side of the road from the car and ask, “what does their sign say? Why isn’t anyone helping them?”
I know quite certainly that this sense of injustice is both common amongst kids and that the sweetness gene did not come from me, the driver/mother who regularly ignored individuals asking for help out her window. But I recognized that it was not enough for me to explain to my four-year old that “mommy works in *philanthropy and in non-profits addressing the systemic issues that individuals face accessing healthy, sustainably-grown and procured food… (the * indicates when she stopped listening to me.) I needed to show her that small actions could also lead to larger systemic changes and societal attitudes, and to be honest, I needed to remind myself. So I bought supplies to keep little bags of hand-warmers, snacks, socks, and water so we could hand them out when we saw people that needed help. Of course, by the time I did this, not only did my daughter lose all interest in helping me put these bags together, but it was hedging towards summer when no one would need hand warmers or cozy socks. If heaven gives points for trying, I think I’d still be in the red on this one.
How are we showing up for individuals - in philanthropy, in non-profits, in our daily lives? In addition to funding and capacity supports, how often do funders stop to ask grantees and partners how they are doing, what can we do to help? Maybe its nothing, just give us the funding and leave us alone. Maybe it’s something you wouldn’t have thought of and is easy to give or facilitate. While I wouldn’t advise asking if people want a hug (to both respect bodily autonomy as well as to avoid making a sweat cocktail in this HEAT), there is always something more we as individuals could be doing.
From the Trust-Based Philanthropy Project:
Providing non-monetary support – such as moral support, thought partnership, introductions to potential partners, and capacity strengthening – can go a long way.
Normalize a culture of listening, responsiveness, and care, provide encouragement and acknowledgment when it’s due
Check in to see how partners are doing, especially in times of difficulty
Encourage (and fund) partners to take time off for rest and reflection
Promote and celebrate grantees’ work in public-facing communications
Use your power and position to be responsive to grantees’ big picture needs
While giving strangers comforting hugs and handing out ziplock care bags won’t fix systemic issues, it can ground us in a steep reminder that small actions can support larger efforts, that we don’t want our children to stop asking “why isn’t anyone helping that person right now?”
