There’s a funny thing that happens when you volunteer to do something for charity. You often get to fundraise. And by, “You often get to fundraise,” I mean, I right now need to ask everyone I know and don’t really know for money. Okay, now we’re on the same page.
Now, we all have people in our lives who don’t hesitate to ask us for things. You know the ones. They call you when their tire is flat. They ask you to watch the kids. They need some help with the bills. If the relationship you have with that person is reciprocal, you might call that part of being friends. If the relationship is one-sided, however, words like “moocher” and “needy” might have already flashed through your brain.
No one wants to think of himself or herself as a moocher. Even the word sounds lazy and disgusting as it rolls off the tongue. “Moocher” sounds like something a cow would say as it chews it’s regurgitated stomach contents for the fourth time, instead of just swallowing and digesting and applying for jobs like other human beings. (Well, somebody has to raise the standards for cows, or else they’ll just stay like that!) “mooooOOOOOOoooocherrrr.”
Mmm…Cud… (cagelessthinking.com)
My unofficial poll of people I know (in: The Journal of I Listen When My Friends Talk, 2013) suggests that most of us think that we don’t like to ask for help. We don’t like to bother others with our problems. But, we all need things, and sometimes, we just cannot give those things to ourselves. And when we need something that we cannot get ourselves, we can either ask for help, or suffer without it and hope that someone notices that our suffering. That’s why babies cry for things before they develop language: the majority of parents will move heaven and earth to satisfy their needs for food, comfort, attention… As we grow, we learn that wailing at the top of our lungs is not the primary solution to most problems (although we still cry, some adults more than others). But we find other ways to “cry” out for help. We run 10 minutes late to everything because we have booked our busy lives too tightly, and don’t have the strategies to cope with it all. We post ambiguous Facebook statuses that make our friends and aunties all message us comforting words (except our great-aunt Ruth, who just clicks ‘like’ on everything she reads – she doesn’t understand how social net-pouting works). We look sad until someone asks us what’s wrong, then spew out 20 years of disappointments, hurts, and pains on them. At that point, they’re just another heartless jerk if they don’t give us what we want. Sadly, I’ve been a giver and receiver for all of these methods of crying for assistance. They frequently cheapened the gift of the giver, and naturally drive people apart.
When it comes to raising multiple thousands of dollars, the indirect approach is both unfair, and mostly useless. Knowing that direct fundraising is a complicated relational interaction, I have kept my eyes wide open for life-lessons to encourage me to ask in direct ways, without seeming like a moOOOOoocher. One such lesson came to me as I was with my little sister in downtown Hollywood. We were in an area formerly known as the Kodak theater, looking at the illuminated signs of Best Picture winning films. A hipster chick sat on a long staircase in her maxi dress, and posed casually as her hipster boyfriend snapped “candid” pictures of her. The woman pulled a full-size package of Oreos out of her bag. As she opened them and went to eat one, I noticed the packaging and yelled up to her, “HOLY CRAP, ARE THOSE TRIPLE STUFFED OREOS???” My excitement was, shall we say, thinly veiled. She yelled down to me, with a matching lack of self-consciousness, “YES! THEY ARE!” Before I even knew what I was doing, I yelled, “CAN I HAVE ONE?” She yelled back “OF COURSE!” and held out the tray of Oreos as I hopped up the stairs and grabbed one. It wasn’t until my little sister politely declined to join our Oreo party that I realized that I had literally taken a cookie from a stranger, in the epicenter of sketch-county. (Sorry Mom and Dad! At least it wasn’t candy?) But, after some brief calculations (Need to eat Oreo >/= Risk of poisoning), I ate that Oreo, and it was triply delicious.
I could have ignored that young lady. I could have ignored the part of me that wanted to experience this new Oreo reality. I could have given her a dirty look out of jealousy. I could have made sad puppy-dog eyes at her until she had to feed me. But then, I wouldn’t have had the joy of that moment, sharing that brief excitement with her. My day was brighter, her day was brighter, and it only cost me the willingness to ask, and her, the 20 cent cookie. Notice, I only took ONE cookie, and the next time I wanted Oreos, I wasn’t texting her to meet me at the spot to hook me up – i.e. NOT MOOCHING.
Believe it or not, the airline will not let me pay my way to South Africa in sandwich cookies (and sadly, not everyone keeps Oreos on hand to donate), I’m working to transfer that willingness to ask directly for small things into bigger requests. I wrote out detailed fundraising letters for members of my church, and you know what? The most immediate, generous donation toward the trip today came from a friend who didn’t even bother to read the letter I handed her. She didn’t need my explanation, my details, my story, she already had 1) her own generous personality and her care for me, and 2) my willingness to give her that letter and effectively say, “I’m fundraising, and would you be willing to help?” It immediately made me think of Oreos. Sometimes, if you ask for help with your needs, people will just say yes to you. Mooching need not apply. (The title, cow, and Oreo are all black and white, incidentally.)
-AABetterPlace
This is not a travel blog. Or a fundraising blog. This is a blog that I started to encourage you to encourage and help others. It is here to foster positivity, thought, and discussion. If you feel the desire to give toward the work that our group will be doing in Kayamandi, South Africa, thank you. I am receiving donations, and you can donate here: www.gapcommunity.com/donate [Click the “Thank Me” check box and put AA-Africa so that the organization knows that you came from this site]. However, if you don’t give to this project, please click around, enjoy, and comment! Stories of preparation, travel, and hard work will be here waiting.
AABetterPlace 
