The ickiness of fundraising
Asking people for money makes me uncomfortable. Being a white girl from an upper-middle class university town in California, this feeling is spot on. I already occupy a space of serious privilege, and asking for money from this place feels shortsighted and insensitive.
But here I am, asking for money. After talking about it in circles with my friends and family, after sitting on an inactive gofundme link for a week, I'm going to go out on a limb and fundraise for my stay in Lesvos.
For a bit of context, here is my deal. In December 2017, I got my Masters in Social Policy & Development from (my dream school), the London School of Economics. When the end of exam term rolled around and no paying job offer had landed in my inbox, I moved home to work at the family business, save some money, and pay some student loans while I looked for work in the development sector. The development sector (like many other sectors that favor a highly educated labor force), is a demanding one, and one that is particularly difficult to break into. Most entry level positions ask for field experience, a Masters, and a slough of other qualifications that my student loans have prohibited me from getting. That's a millennial reality. The jobs we chased these expensive degrees for want the experience that was only possible if unpaid internships were a feasible option. So that's the first thing.
The second bit is also not unique to me. The 2016 election and subsequent dumpster fire political climate in the US have me feeling... small. Instagram activism isn't doing it for me, and while the $10 donations I am slipping here and there to the usual suspect organizations feel good in the moment, it's not enough. Part of recognizing your privilege in a meaningful way is to leverage it in the service of those you hope to be allies to. I love my job working with preschool-aged children - I'm good at it and teaching brings me joy. But thankfully, there are a wealth of talented teachers and adults who also love children in these children's lives. So I saw an opportunity to take my skills and expertise, and direct it towards children whose childhood has been compromised.
In March, I will leave a paying job to volunteer in a refugee camp. While my education has set me up to have the skills to do this, the unfortunate reality is that after setting up a budget based on my current paycheck and expenses, I would only be able to stay about two weeks - not nearly long enough to be of meaningful help to anyone at the NGO or camp. Despite my reservations, I have set up a gofundme to cover the rent in the long term volunteer house and my contributions to the communal grocery and gas fund shared with the other volunteers in the home. I've tried to think of some ways I can be more comfortable with this, and here is what I've come up with:
But here I am, asking for money. After talking about it in circles with my friends and family, after sitting on an inactive gofundme link for a week, I'm going to go out on a limb and fundraise for my stay in Lesvos.
For a bit of context, here is my deal. In December 2017, I got my Masters in Social Policy & Development from (my dream school), the London School of Economics. When the end of exam term rolled around and no paying job offer had landed in my inbox, I moved home to work at the family business, save some money, and pay some student loans while I looked for work in the development sector. The development sector (like many other sectors that favor a highly educated labor force), is a demanding one, and one that is particularly difficult to break into. Most entry level positions ask for field experience, a Masters, and a slough of other qualifications that my student loans have prohibited me from getting. That's a millennial reality. The jobs we chased these expensive degrees for want the experience that was only possible if unpaid internships were a feasible option. So that's the first thing.The second bit is also not unique to me. The 2016 election and subsequent dumpster fire political climate in the US have me feeling... small. Instagram activism isn't doing it for me, and while the $10 donations I am slipping here and there to the usual suspect organizations feel good in the moment, it's not enough. Part of recognizing your privilege in a meaningful way is to leverage it in the service of those you hope to be allies to. I love my job working with preschool-aged children - I'm good at it and teaching brings me joy. But thankfully, there are a wealth of talented teachers and adults who also love children in these children's lives. So I saw an opportunity to take my skills and expertise, and direct it towards children whose childhood has been compromised.
In March, I will leave a paying job to volunteer in a refugee camp. While my education has set me up to have the skills to do this, the unfortunate reality is that after setting up a budget based on my current paycheck and expenses, I would only be able to stay about two weeks - not nearly long enough to be of meaningful help to anyone at the NGO or camp. Despite my reservations, I have set up a gofundme to cover the rent in the long term volunteer house and my contributions to the communal grocery and gas fund shared with the other volunteers in the home. I've tried to think of some ways I can be more comfortable with this, and here is what I've come up with:
- I am also accepting donations of school supplies and children's books (in English, Arabic, Greek, French, or German)
- Any money raised over the $2500 goal set on the gofundme will go directly to I Am You, the organization I am volunteering with
- I am asking for a $10 donation limit per person
I want to be clear, I am open to dialogue here, let's talk about this. Growing up in the internet community has opened up channels of dialogue and experiences that have opened the way I was taught to think, it would be a shame not to use it when I need to talk through something.
p.s. The aforementioned looming gofundme elephant in the room can be found here (🙈)
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