At no time of the year do the deep-seated contradictions of our world become more apparent and more disturbing than these few weeks at the end of December. On the one hand, the pages of our newspapers and the screens on our TV are filled with advertisements for the latest consumer goods - how can you live without the next version of the ipod, or the Tahitian pearl necklace, or a luxurious cashmere scarf? Simultaneously, our mailboxes are flooded with appeals from charitable organizations reminding us of the many millions of people, both here in the United States and across the world, whose lives are an endless miserable litany of hunger, poverty, violence and injustice. The faces of countless starving children, vulnerable refugees, and AIDS victims stare out at us from these pages. This year, the war in Iraq makes these contradictions even harder - our newspapers tell us how many more lives are lost and blithely advertise for the holiday sales on the facing page.
How are we to make sense of these two powerful forces both acting on our most basic instincts? And, what can we do to reconcile the conflict between wanting more for ourselves and our immediate friends and families with our empathy for those who have so little?
At the Global Fund for Women, we have sought to turn the traditional notion of philanthropy on its head by reminding ourselves that each one of us, regardless of our personal wealth or status in life, is capable of both giving and receiving. We can only give because we are fortunate to receive. No gift is too small or too large to matter - many drops of water do indeed make up a mighty ocean. Despite our profound inequalities and differences we are, in the end, a planet of interdependence, a collection of diverse-but ultimately human-beings with the similar fears, anxieties, aspirations and dreams. In my ten years at the Global Fund for Women, I have learned that we can use the practice of philanthropy to thoughtfully and intentionally shift stereotypes, challenge boundaries, and transcend borders of race, ability, class, nationality, and gender.
So, this giving season, I plan to pay attention and to be more mindful to the contradictions around me. I am going to take a minute to actually look at or maybe buy dinner for the homeless person on our street corner. I am going to send off a letter to the newly elected members of Congress to remind them that as an American and as a citizen of our world, I care about the thousands dying in Iraq and Darfur. I am going to make different choices about the commodities I do buy for those whom I love. What would it take to buy "green" or to support a store that has a commitment to social justice? I am going to share with my friends the fact that a small amount of money can go a very long way when entrusted to a women's group in the highlands of Bolivia, or the villages of western Kenya. And, I will temper my exasperation and sense of overwhelm at the many non-profit appeals in my mailbox. Far too often, a caring non-profit organization is all that stands between someone who is vulnerable and the chance of a better future, not just for that person, but for each one of us.