Thursday, May 31, 2007

money matters

Donors frequently exercise great concern when giving money away to nonprofits. They want to ensure that their dollars will be used well, and not whittled away in seemingly useless administrative activities, fundraising efforts and excessively high executive salaries. Perhaps for the peace of mind, donors often restrict their dollars for specific programs or projects (e.g. chairs for a classroom, the theatre program for lower-income children)*.

We seemed to be very concerned about where our nonprofit dollars go, not just because the lack of receiving something explicit in exchange leads us to cling psychologically to our donation, but also because to some degree, what we give our money to, defines us, shows us what we care for.

Yet we do not seem to even bother to think where the money we pay for other goods and services ends up. Somehow, when we purchase that good or service, we dissociate from having an interest in where that dollar goes. Do we care if it goes towards the mortgage on the $10 MM property purchased by some CEO enjoying the benefits of workers paid less than a dollar a day? Do we care if the company uses it to pay the penalties as a result of a civil action lawsuit, because of unethical marketing practices? Probably not. The money has left our hands. It’s no longer ours. We are no longer responsible. Money, the facilitator, the medium of exchange, accomplishes its goal. It has reduced us to individual consumers, who go home happy with our new shirts and gadgets, and the wonderful high of owning something new. Without even thinking, we relinquish our ability to be agents of change and to be people who care.

Remember, the way you spend your money will show what you care about, or, what you don’t care about it. Where your money is, so is your heart.

* People seem to do this to ensure that organizations use their money efficiently. Actually, restricting the money that you donate more often than not, reduces efficiency. But more on that in another day….

Friday, May 04, 2007

here's to philadelphia

One week before formally moving back to Philadelphia, I was riding a car through the "rough" streets of Philadelphia. Suddenly, the sense of place flooded back to me. I remembered spending my summer here. Walking past old men and women sitting on their porches in the scorching sunlight. Walking past the kids laughing with delight at the cold, refreshing water from the open fire hydrant. Walking past a group of young overweight mothers playing a game of cards. And sensing beneath that deceiving appearance of idyllic calm (What gave it away? Was it the broken glass on the streets? The metal bars on the windows?), the hopelessness that lives in those streets.

Every city is has a different dark spirit hovering over it. New York is dominated by greed, Washington DC oppressed by power, and Philadelphia sinks slowly under despair. "Soul-stirring desolation" writes Jonathan Franzen.

Yet as I ride the train and watch the changing and growing skyline of Philadelphia, I can’t help but smile. I walk past the Schuylkill river, meander through Penn campus, eat lunch with a building maintenance man in Rittenhouse square and walk to 30th street station in a cool summer evening. Coming back to Philadelphia feels like slipping back into a comfortable winter coat, one that will hopefully warm me from the biting cold.

Here's to a city for which I can care, rejoice and mourn.
Here's to a city for which I can hope.

(A feeling of place. A feeling of home. It's good to be living back in Philadelphia.)