why you should think twice about giving “gifts” to the poor

A gift! How thoughtful! Thank you!

I remember back in the day, driving to spend Christmas with certain relatives, my mother would always prep us with, “now remember, no matter what, you need to say ‘thank you’ and be grateful, ok?” Now that I have kids, I’ve taught them a similar script – A gift! Thank you! – and I’ve communicated my expectation that they not embarrass me by being ungrateful brats.

I’ve thought about this lesson a lot lately – how saying thank you is an act of both gratitude and basic decency. Furthermore, I’ve thought about it outside the context of my childhood Christmases in America. I’ve thought about all the gifts that we personally are asked to hand out on behalf of donors and even more about the thousands of OCC gift boxes being packed NOW that will pass through our region next spring. OCC is by far the largest “gift-giving ministry” working world-wide and as such they provide the most obvious examples. Among the many negative articles circulating about OCC lately (like this, and this, and this, and this) one push-back comment I keep seeing is, “Remember, these are gifts.”

I’ve written about OCC myself – more than once, in fact – so I obviously have thoughts. But it wasn’t until recently that I honed in on that repeated phrase – remember, these are gifts. Every time my eyes read that line, I’d think, yeah, so? until Jeremy and I were talking about it and we remembered to pass the phrase through our magic ‘America filter’ and it donned on us – Mom’s telling us to be grateful, regardless.

The third world and missionaries like myself who are attempting to serve here, have spent a good amount of time and energy trying to communicate a specific message to the generous peoples of the first world: random stuff from America is not helpful. But then mom reminds her kids again to be grateful… and what’s left to be said?

WELL, how about this:

The following is why I believe “But it’s a gift!” is neither relevant nor appropriate, and why you should think twice about giving “gifts” to the poor.

Let’s say a friend of yours has been struggling financially. She finally comes to you and says, “hey, I need to fill this prescription for my kid, but it costs $50 and I just don’t have that,” and you respond, “Aw, girl, you know I love you! Here’s a gift basket of stuff from Toys R Us worth $50!” And she just stares at you and doesn’t immediately say thank you and you get all feely and annoyed by her ingratitude… Your actions would have been unreasonable, right? No one could be that insensitive or crass as to not meet their friend’s stated, pressing need… Right???

Meet the need first is fairly intuitive in this case. But the reason why most Americans don’t respond as instinctively when it comes to giving unnecessary gifts to the poor overseas is that they are too far removed from third-world poverty to get it.

America has a lavish gift-giving culture; we give presents for everything!  New Baby! House Warming! New Job! But despite this generous tradition, many, if not most, of the people we are giving these gifts to aren’t simultaneously looking for solutions to life-threatening situations. Most Americans have never been confronted with the either/or dilemma of “meet a desperate need” or “give a random gift instead.” The struggle is quite literally foreign to them.

The driving proviso behind, “But it’s a gift!” is that Americans (as a generic unit) can afford to spend money on unnecessary things all day, every day – and we assume others do to. BUT, the developing world does not function this way. Luxury is appreciated when it comes, to be sure – but by luxury, I’m not talking fancy jewelry and the latest iphone. Luxury in our village is water that has spent time in a fridge, a car ride (instead of a bike ride) to town, and getting to eat the gizzard of a chicken. So let me say this: it is ignorant and tacky to pretend that frivolous luxury is a reasonable replacement for basic human needs that are not being met.

You can give any single unnecessary item from Target to your best friend and rightly expect a thank you from her because she probably has a roof over her head tonight. You can give a bag of party favors to your neighbor kid and even tell the goober to say thank you to you because chances are good that kid is getting fed tonight. If your friend didn’t have a house and your neighbor didn’t have food and you knew that but decided to use your expendable cash to buy trinkets instead, the word ‘negligent’ would be appropriately applied.

In the place where we live, families routinely go hungry, don’t have shoes and can’t send their kids to school. Our neighbors sleep in crowded huts, wear the same clothes for a week and walk miles to see a nurse. And yet, with this scene as the backdrop, the same American Church that can manage to buy millions of dollars worth of “Just because we love you!” gifts refuses to use those same dollars to alleviate human suffering.

Americans have the luxury of having skewed priorities because, by and large, their needs are already met. What would truly change the American-gift-giver’s perspective is an exit from the first-world bubble and a true desire to know what the legitimate, third-world needs are. From much experience, I can say that, once on the field, it does not take long for American bauble to look alien and offensive when the intended recipient in front of you is either hungry, sick or afraid.

In case I sound like a gift-giving curmudgeon, let me free ya’ll up: Buy the candy and the bouncy balls and the glow in the dark toothbrushes. Yes. Go ahead and buy them. And send them! But here’s the caveat: Do that AFTER you’ve made sure that each and every recipient has a home and clothes and food and everything she needs.

You see, that same mama who taught me to be grateful at Christmas also taught me how to spoil the people I love. Here in the land of Where there is no Target, we have to wait for many of our American items to come across with visitors. Because space is limited and our list is usually pretty extensive, I have to do some negotiating with my mother to make sure that the innate Grandmother urge to spoil her grandkids doesn’t usurp actual necessities. Because I know she loves me, I’m free to say, “Grandma, the kids don’t need sugar. They need vitamins and socks and school supplies. Can we prioritize that instead?” And Grandma always says, sure! Because as much as she loves – and lives – to spoil those grandbabies, she cares about them enough to make sure their needs are met first.

So she sends vitamins and socks and school supplies… and all the s’mores ingredients that the left-over luggage space can handle. Despite my joking protest, the spoiling with sweets isn’t bad. We just need the other things as first priority. If I had told Grandma our needs and she had said, “I DON’T CARE. IT MAKES ME HAPPY SO I’M SENDING MARSHMELLOWS AND NOTHING ELSE…” Well shoot, Grandma. That wouldn’t be very loving, now would it?

If your gut reaction to negative press for OCC is, “they should be thankful,” you need to recognize that it is your purchasing power speaking – not compassion towards the poor. Because yes, all humans should be grateful for gifts, no matter what. But it is not ingratitude that leads those of us working amongst the poor to make the needs known. It is necessity. And urgency. And Stress. And if that does not call you to sympathy, you are in this for the wrong reasons. 

Giving gifts to the poor aught not be a consumer activity. But when first-world donors announce that they will only pay for that which makes them feel good, this “generosity” takes on a controlling element that needs to be exorcized. A true gift is one without stipulations, including your desire to “participate” or “teach your kids the true meaning of Christmas” or to foster some artificial “connection” to a small child far away.

Leveraging financial privilege in a way that self-gratifies and puts the rich-giver ahead of the poor is not Christ’s way.

Psalm 41:1 says it right:

Blessed is the one who considers the poor.

Are you considering?

what we can learn from the TOMS flop

In case we haven’t all noticed yet, charitable buying has become quite fashionable. American companies are popping up all over that have a charitable giving component. You can buy shirts that save whales and jewelry that supports widows. But the most famous of all the charitable corporations is probably TOMS. Oh Toms, your pink sparkly shoes had me at hello, though I also like the earth tones and plaids. I see these shoes everywhere I look, and everything about TOMS aggressive marketing makes my current earthy birkies feel so 2005. But sadly, I can never in good conscience buy a pair of TOMS. Here’s why:

When I first heard about TOMS' concept of the one-for-one, I pictured a very specific scenario. I pictured myself standing at the cash register, pictured my card swipe through, pictured some sad looking child being fitted with a beautiful pair of TOMS and pictured those shoes changing the course of his life. (Oh, you too?)

My first wake up call happened a few years ago when the Home Based Care group we work with received a shipment of TOMS from Africare. Africare dropped off a few boxes, left instructions to give the shoes to orphans in the community and left. The caregivers went into thank you baby Jesus its Christmas morning mode and immediately divvied them up. Out of two hundred pairs of shoes, I don’t think a single pair ended up on the feet of an orphaned child. The caregivers first kept a portion for themselves and the rest went to the neighbors and friends of the caregivers according to whomever they wanted to make happy. When I questioned the “distribution methodology” I got the why you messin’ face so I backed off. In the caregivers minds, everyone in Fimpulu is equally poor, so why does it matter if we help an orphan in a poor family or a two-parent-child in a poor family? According to local culture, its an arbitrary distinction.

I get it. But there seemed to be another problem. All of the shoes were the same size and obviously not all two hundred children (and adults) would have the same size feet. The solution for this was apparently to give the shoes to the adults, granting them permission to do whatever they wanted with them. The families were directed to put the shoes on the feet of whomever, or, if they did not fit anyone, they were advised to go ahead and sell the shoes.

NOT FOR RESALE

I snagged these pics at Mansa’s local market though I’ve seen them elsewhere. Please note the NOT FOR RESALE markings on the inside of the shoe. I may be stating the obvious here, but, the shoe that is clearly marked not for sale is indeed, for sale... as in, not on the feet of the ones for whom they were originally intended. Something tells me that TOMS’ magical plan has veered a wee bit off course.

uniform, black TOMS, all one size (and a photobomb by some white girl's hand)

The misappropriation begs the question, does TOMS know? If so, does TOMS care? The shoes are being sold because, presumably, ill fitting footwear is not the kind of assistance that the poor communities actually need. If the shoes are being sold for $4 a pair, why not give that $4 directly to the community? Why not put it directly into the kind of orphan care that actually cares for orphans? School fees? Clean water? Certainly I’m not the only one with a ready list of viable solutions!

I keel over at the resource waste that comes about as a result of the hierarchical, trickle down effect. The positive potential of big aid suffers mightily as international NGO’s select project countries, who then must coordinate with national offices, who communicate with the regional offices managing the local offices who designate field officers to hold meetings with community groups who will then distribute the materials to NOT the target population. Painful.

It's identifiably crummy development practice to tell an entire region that it needs size 4 shoes when anyone could guestimate that less than one percent of the target population has size 4 feet. But then again, maybe its not TOMS fault, maybe its Africare’s US office. Or maybe their Zambia country office. Or maybe their Mansa office. Or…

How many hands did the project have to sift through before it stopped being any good at all? My guess is not that many. Still, this is the expected flow of policy and programming and service delivery starting necessarily at point A and not arriving until somewhere around point X.

I’ve bought quite a few orphans shoes this year. Mulenga and I went traipsing through down UB market to find hard soled, shiny but not too shiny, wide-toe box, handsome looking black school shoes. I left gushing to my husband that shopping with boys is so much fun and we should try to have six sons. I did the same for Kabange... and Chabu... and Stephen. 

Mulenga: let's go find shoes for those growing feet you're propping up ON MY WALL.

These kids live a stones throw from my front door and I know pretty much everything about the trueness of their need. No one will take their shoes and sell them to buy something lame, like beer. I’ll hunt them down if I don’t see them jog past my house on their way to school each morning. I’ll have many an opportunity to make them feel loved by telling them they are smart and capable and good looking. And I’ll do this because I can. Because these names are not ones on a spreadsheet on a remote desktop – actually, they are playing checkers on my front porch. The directive to care for them is not coming from sixteen office levels above me – it is coming from obvious overflow of love thy neighbor.

This is the luxury of being small, a luxury not afforded by the big, impressive, our website makes us sound super effective NGOs. It’s a luxury I certainly don’t take for granted and would encourage the generous first world to value a little bit more. So wear TOMS if you like - they are a perfect accompaniment to skinny jeans, this is true. But let's be real about their impact, and challenge the corporate charities we're buying from to do the same.

when "better than nothing" is euphemism for "crap" and 21 things to do about it

There’s a phenomenon that often crops up when privilege awkwardly mingles with poverty. I like to call it the “better than nothing” effect.

 I’ve written about digging through salaula to look for used clothes. What I failed to mention in that post is that many of the clothes in those piles are disgusting. Onesies with poop stains all over them, trousers with large rips down the seams, shirts that are pitted out all icky and brown. The presence of such “clothes” (if you can even call them that) makes me wonder, why did the previous owner not just throw this trash away?  And the answer rings in my head like an obnoxious pre-recorded message: well, it’s better than nothing. (I think I’d rather continue to let Bronwyn run naked.)

AWANA Chums: bless it.

Service projects in poor areas are susceptible to this logic as well. We’ve seen it many times over – buildings thrown up in haste because the team is leaving in a week, paint spattered on walls, teaching materials thrown together with church leftovers that no one wanted. I wonder, is this how the church cares for its own building/members/seekers? And the pre-recorded message plays again: well, it’s better than nothing.

All poor people are always this joyful and content, right?

Lest I be unfair, I must also point out that this dynamic does not exist merely between the American/White/Privileged and the African Poor. This is an “in-house” dynamic as well. Over and over, I’ve attended meetings with NGO workers from Lusaka – Zambian born, yes, but city raised, university educated: privileged and elite. When urban meets rural, the clash of power is always evident. Arriving in vehicles and talking on iphones, the Lusaka folk provide food that they themselves refuse to eat and give bicycles that they themselves would never ride and set up sub-par systems at clinics and schools that they themselves would never take their children too. How is any of this acceptable? Cue tape: well, it’s better than nothing.

I see it. I hear it. And sometimes I do it too. Sometimes my empty water bottle really is the kid next door's new prized possession. Sometimes Bronwyn's hand-me downs are a life-saver for the family whose house just burnt down. Sometimes that scrap paper is destined not to become kindling but rather the next generation of fighter airplanes.

But often times, crap is crap no matter the context context. The rubbish hand-outs and poor craftsmanship and programing that starts three hours late because they are poor and have nothing else to do so they can wait for us... As fancy-dan Zambian government vehicles drive down the road and throw their chicken bones out for the window for the kids waving happily, I cringe, and the lack of refinement unsettles me. The subtle message from the powerful to the weak, from the rich to the poor, is, you are not worth more than this. You are not worth more than polluted water and rags for clothes and long-enough-to-die-in lines and crowded classrooms and janitors diagnosing your disease.

How did we get here? Not as a race or an ethnicity but as human beings? How did the subversive better than nothing creep into the story of mankind? I suppose it happened that somewhere along the way we stopped seeing every woman as our sister, every old man as our father, every toddler as our child. Their life and their story became so very far from ours and caring without sacrificing became the norm because it is so easy -  and seemingly so acceptable. The shift towards "us versus them" and “better than nothing” was innocuous when the scale was pitifully small, and "giving to Africa" was not a thing. But now, in the age of BIG AID and development and mercy ministries and poverty ministries and social media calling attention to the needs and plights of the poor next door - people are giving and sending and going and engaging at a dizzying pace… and its time to realign our thinking.

I pray for this every time I sit on an airplane with teams and teams of Americans flying over on some kind of missions trip to Zambia. I pray for this every time I walk into a Government office to ask for any kind of anything. I pray for the dismantling of “better than nothing” and the raising of a standard of excellence based on the premise that this person breathes. To rename “that poor black child” (and please stop saying that), to “my dear friend.” Poor is not a name or an identity; its an economic descriptor - nothing else - and to recalibrate the quality of our kindness based on that word alone redefines a soul’s worth in terms of dollars and no doubt makes the Creator grieve.

Because I think many of these actions are subconscious – more a reflection of cultural shift and mass media than our heart of hearts - might I suggest a few things?

1. Never donate clothes or food that you would never wear or eat yourself.

2. Do not send busted or broken toys or electronics.

3. Give gifts with the same intentionality and delicacy as you would your best friend.

4. Construct, paint, build as you would your own home.

5. Learn names. As many as possible. And stories to go with.

6. Provide what is requested, not just what is convenient or left over.

7. Submit to local authority.

8. Empower without paternalism.

9. Don't assume you understand the real needs. 

10. Improve broader systems and structures as you are able.

11. Slow the giving flow enough to investigate the micro-economic impact.

12. Engage local labor as much as possible.

13. When serving amongst the poor, become poor. Let your heart be broken – for in doing so you will know the heart of God.

14. Give freely.

15. Give prayerfully.

16. Give without expectation or condition.

17. Give sustainably.

18. Give humbly.

19. Keep learning.

20. Keep trying.

21. Live by Psalm 82:3: Defend the rights of the poor and the orphans; be fair to the needy and the helpless.  

Bless and be blessed. 

. . .

what else can you add?

heroism, poverty and transparency in child sponsorship

If you've been following social media this week, you probably know about the fire storm of response created by World Vision's decision and subsequent un-decision regarding World Vision USA's hiring policy. Absolutely everybody has weighed in on the debate spawned by the two announcements and I don't intend to add one more blog post to the already flaming pile. There is great danger commenting on the dynamics of an organization for which one does not work. Nevertheless, we are closely familiar with World Vision and other child sponsorship organizations having seen their work and impact first hand on the field. What follows is our honest observation, and we welcome any correrction if we are mistaken. 

I almost could have ignored the entire conversation were it not for the persistent stream of comments exposing a very specific point of donor ignorance.

It is unfathomable to me that people would choose to punish and drop the child they sponsor over a difference in doctrine… It's astounding to me that Christians would take food from starving children because a gay person might have helped in getting it there. (rageagainsttheminivan.com)

That poor child they are leaving behind sadly does not have a choice to eat, go to school or live a healthy life. (fb comment)

I will continue to advocate for the children around the world who are losing access to vital, elemental needs (like food, healthcare, education, clean water), because a bunch of Christians in America got pissed about an HR decision made in a corporate office. (Nishweiseth.com)

… a child’s monthly needs are at stake. (Jenhatmaker.com)

What does it say about our Faith when our response to a corporate policy change is to kick a needy child in the teeth? (jamietheveryworstmissionary.com)

It's very inhumane to cut off food to a hungry child because you hate gay people. (blog comment)

I fully affirm the concern being expressed for children around the world. God loves children. Theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Every child deserves clean drinking water and a chance at school. Every one of them deserves security and love. To all those standing on the side of children, BLESS YOU.

Nevertheless, I sense some confusion about the nature of child sponsorship, and I hope this post will clear some things up. The truth of the matter is that no one sponsor is solely responsible for any one child’s life. When a sponsor withdraws support for any reason – change in financial situation, or difference of doctrinal opinion – whatever the reason,fff the withdrawing supporter is NOT kicking a child out of school, taking food out of his mouth, ripping the shirt off his back or sending him out into the streets. 

No, no, no, no, no.

A "dropped" child is not being punished or sentenced to a life of destitute poverty. This is not how child sponsorship works – within World Vision or any other organization that I know of, including my own. Child sponsorship is a JOINT commitment on the part of the generous donor and the coordinating organization. When the organization takes on a child, they commit to provide a certain set of services to that child for a certain period of time – whether or not the donor keeps sending checks with that child’s name on the memo line. Funds for sponsorship are not matched one to one so much as they are pooled together to provide for ALL the children on the sponsorship roster, in addition to a host of non-child-specific activities. As much as it may be a let down to hear, World Vision is not anxiously waiting for your sponsorship check so that when they get it, they make a call to the field staff in Zambia informing them that, Praise the Lord, Mwewa can have dinner tonight!

Large, well-organized, fiscally sound child sponsorship organizations have certain structures assuring that YOU cannot ruin a child’s life. These organizations build into their budget a certain amount of financial margin to allow for fluctuations in donor support. They have in place contingency plans for seasons of drought. And they absolutely have a certain level of professional ethics whereby they are not blithely playing with children’s lives.

To tell donors that children will suffer if individual donors do not continue to give $35 a month is emotionally manipulative. Emotional manipulation is hurtful and wrong. As directors of a small non-profit, Jeremy and I are more or less professionals at working off of a tight budget. We can easily think of about 50 ways that most non-profits, World Vision included could save money (at least in Zambia) without the kids ever noticing. Internal politics, USAID grant restrictions and desirable media campaigns largely dictate to where and to what the dollars are going. Charging the already conflicted donor with the suffering of thousands of poor, needy children world-wide lacks integrity. 

It would seem that the lack of transparency within the sponsorship process has only served to reinforce the savior complex held by many Americans. Many families display their sponsored child’s picture on their fridge as a conversation piece, a reminder to pray, and – dare I say it? – because it makes them feel good about themselves. Is it possible that, in the recesses of our hearts, we actually want to believe that our child will die without us because of how important that makes us feel? And is it possible that the teams for raising millions of dollars to fund all the expenses of a sponsorship program want donors to feel indispensible so that they keep giving? Is it possible that organizations are too intent on garnering support that they “forget” to tell you that the birthday money you sent to Maria actually didn’t go to her?

Are we misappropriating a sense of accomplishment when we feel like we have made a difference in a child’s life? Probably not. Are we misappropriating a sense of accomplishment when we feel like we have single handedly saved a child and revolutionized her community? Probably so.

Self-righteousness is oozing out of the myriad comments expressing this sentiment in a different way:

“I can’t believe that people would leave children in poverty to make a point.”

 Does anyone else feel the slope getting really, really slippery? The question of financial stewardship is not cut and dry. What if we changed that comment to something else:

“I can’t believe that people would leave children in poverty to fuel their starbucks habit.”

 “I can’t believe that people would leave children in poverty to get a manicure once a month.”

“I can’t believe that people would leave children in poverty to buy another pair of shoes.”

If we are going to start throwing stones over $35 a month – regardless of the rationale – we ought to be prepared to account for ALL of our financial decisions. I have a hunch that if we all scrutinized the spending of every $35 increment, the previously felt sense of heroism might start to fade. Truth be told, we pass by the needs of the global poor EVERY DAY in order to satisfy our own preferences. Is withdrawing support because of difference of opinion any more deplorable than not sponsoring more because doing so might cut into the restaurant budget? Maybe, and maybe not. That is for each donor to decide.

Might I suggest that we all take the opportunity created by the World Vision media exposure to both contemplate and commit.

Contemplate…

            Who do I give to and why?

            What is my motivation for giving?

            Am I being the best steward possible with what I’ve been given?

Commit…

            To rejecting every notion that we are Savior.

            To give through an organization but freely and unto the Lord.

            To become informed donors, researching organizational methods and cash flow.

It's true that there is a lot at stake here as the culture war rages on, not the least of which is our own sense of self-importance. Let's leave emotional reactionism by the way-side and have a rational perspective about our importance, our dollars, and those we serve.