Author Archives: Sarah Shugars

On Hermits and Morality

Posted on by
Reply

I’m very concerned about the morality of being a hermit.

I’m not sure why exactly I am so absorbed by this topic, but I find it deeply distressing to imagine that hermits might not be moral.

In case this concern has never crossed your mind, I’ll start with some simplified arguments that being a hermit is indeed not moral.

Perhaps it is every person’s moral obligation to care for and support others. You can’t care for and support others when you’re a hermit, so it is not moral to be a hermit.

Perhaps it is every person’s moral obligation to be the best person they can be. Hermitage may have some benefit in this regard – time for silent, isolated meditation is well regarded as a tool for self improvement.

It is only because Siddhārtha Gautama meditated in isolation for 49 days and 49 nights that he reached enlightenment. Jesus wandered the desert for 40 days.

But this isolation of spiritual discovery is a temporary state. A deep breath rather than a permanent state of being.

After achieving enlightenment, the Buddha dedicated his life to traveling and educating. He had an obligation to share what he had learned.

Thoreau returned from the woods.

A temporary removal from society might be beneficial, but a permanent removal means never learning from another person. It means never being told you’re wrong. It means never having that creative tension between others that makes everyone better in the end.

And here we come back to concern of caring for others. Even if you frame that in the negative – a person’s moral obligation is to do no harm – by removing yourself from society you are doing harm. You are depriving others of your voice, your ideas, your perspectives.

The best solutions come from many voices. And every voice in unique.

Removing your voice from the dialogue not only degrades yourself, it degrades  the whole. In this sense, choosing a life of solitude is not moral in two ways – you lose out on the opportunity to improve through the work of others, and they lose out on the opportunity to improve through the works of you.

Thus, in many senses, an intentional choice to remove yourself from society is not moral. It causes too much damage to yourself and those around you.

There’s a lot about these arguments I appreciate. I believe everyone is a special snowflake. I believe that every voice matters. I believe that learning from others can make us our best selves and I believe that sharing our voice can help others, too.

But does it then follow that being a hermit is not moral? That interacting with others is the moral path?

I have trouble making that leap.

Morality implies judgement. Morality implies a Right and Wrong. But I am not prepared to judge those who isolate themselves – physically, socially, or emotionally – from society.

For myself, I am particularly interested in those last two pieces. It may sound odd at first, but anyone whose every felt alone in a crowded room can attest that the latter is indeed possible.

A common reaction to trauma is a sort of emotional isolation – a certain detachment that gives you just enough light to see the world, but enough protection not to face it.

For most of us, this is a temporary condition – the loss of a loved one can invoke an emotional shock which leaves you incapacitated and temporarily unable to process human interaction. You are not so much sad as dead inside.

This is normal.

And it is difficult. But for most of us, this shock fades. These wounds heal.

But I’m not sure the process is so simple – if you’ll forgive that word – for those who have faced deep, lasting traumatic experiences.

If there reaction is to shut themselves off as a result of this trauma. If they find the world and their reality too much to bear, who am I to judge them? Who am I to tell them they are wrong.

Arguably, social integration is the healthiest thing for them, but that’s a far cry from saying it is the moral thing for them.

That feels like to heavy a demand, too high an expectation, too much to ask from someone to whom we should be showing nothing but support.

Everyone has their different paths. Everyone has their different journeys. Life is hard, and I don’t know what’s moral.

I only know we do the best we can.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

A Facilitator’s Obligation to Social Justice

Posted on by
Reply

I spent my weekend in a facilitation training with an impressive group of people from across my university community.

Over the course of two full days, we were introduced to a specific facilitation method of Reflective / Structured Dialogue.

All of us were there as people. As members of a shared community. As individuals who felt that dialogue is an important groundwork, an important foundation for shared understanding.

And mutual understanding really is the goal of the facilitation technique we studied.

As many in the Deliberative Democracy world have told me, mutual understanding is a critical and foundational goal. People with opposing ideas and opinions may not come to find common ground, they may not come to agree. But well-structured dialogue can help them lower the rhetoric. Can help them humanize each other.

Can help them find mutual understanding.

A common push back to this approach is the question, “is dialogue enough?” For those of us with a bias for action, it can be daunting to imagine having whole series of dialogues organized for no other purpose than to talk.

I mean, I’ve been in many a meeting which seemed to have no point at all, and doing this as a past time doesn’t necessarily seem like an optimal thing to do.

But whether it is “enough” or not, it is clear to me that dialogue is important.

Unlike a meeting that goes off the rails, a well-facilitated dialogue feels like a productive use of time.

You may not plan a boycott or complete a power analysis, but you get to know other people. Really get to know them. As people.

You remember that it’s an amazing experience to be genuinely interested in learning more about someone and to have them genuinely interested in learning more about you.

That can be a powerful experience.

And it’s an important experience. It’s what makes a community a community, and not just a fractured network of factions.

The role of the facilitator in these meetings is intentionally agnostic. They layout a structure, they keep time, they help the group agree to norms and keep the group honest to those norms.

Their role is to serve the interests of the group.

In many ways, this is how we’re used to thinking of a facilitator, and in many ways this structure makes good sense.

When you’re bringing together a polarized group, for example, it seems important that the facilitator be a neutral party, someone who can honestly and equitably enforce the ground rules a group sets for itself. Someone who can generate an unbiased calm and keep the group focused on the seemingly simple task of mutual understanding. Of getting to know each other as people.

And while in theory, that all sounds great, I can’t shake the question: Does a facilitator have an obligation to social justice?

Someone truly committed to the neutral facilitator model would say no. The facilitator has an obligation to the group, to help the group achieve mutual understanding. That understanding will ultimately serve social justice, as people from divergent views learn to humanize each other.

But the facilitator’s primary obligation is to the group, and that requires the facilitator stay neutral.A facilitator might call someone out for not speaking with respect or for not speaking from their own experience, but a neutral facilitator wouldn’t point out the fallacy in someone’s argument or the structural privilege that helped build their view.And in many ways, that seems like the right approach. A well structured dialogue might help someone realize – truly, for themselves – their structural privilege. And that self-realization serves social justice better than any well-intentioned condemnation ever could.But I feel a facilitator’s obligation to social justice goes deeper than this. I think not of polarized groups, but of groups where people’s views are too similar, or where people are too polite.A key step in the Reflective / Structured Dialogue approach is to open with a question that everyone can relate to, that get us all through personal stories, to recognize our common humanity.But recognizing our shared experiences should not lead to an expectation that our experiences are the same.I may have occasionally felt like an outsider. You may have felt like an outsider every day. I may have occasionally felt misrepresented. You may have felt misrepresented every day.Recognizing those common experiences is critical to developing humanized relationships, but social justice means recognizing that a common experience doesn’t imply a comparable existence. It means recognizing that deep systemic inequality, has dramatic outcomes for our different life experiences. It means recognizing that I may able to hide my deviance from social norms, while you may not. And while shared experience is important, the frequency and intensity of those experiences is important, too.I think it’s great to start with a question that everyone can relate to, that opens the door to mutual understanding.But I think a facilitator does have an obligation to social justice and, once commonality is recognized, has an obligation to ask next, how are those experiences different and why are they different? What has shaped our experiences and shaped our world?And, of course, a facilitator must ask, how can we all work together to positively shape the experiences of those who follow ?

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Choosing charities

Posted on by
Reply

When I decided to be grateful to non-profits for five days, I was faced with the challenge of determining which organizations to support.or

As it happens, I had an immediate sense of which organizations to highlight and in what order to highlight them in. I was surprised by how quickly I made this decision, but I also had a lot of doubts.

My list includes no public health organizations. No cancer research, no domestic abuse prevention, no mental health support. Those are important issues.

My list includes no civil rights organizations – organizations which fight for social justice, sure – but, no organizations explicitly and solely focused on civil rights. That work is desperately important.

My list includes no environmental or animal rights organizations. That work’s important, too.

And only one organization on my list – the last I got to – works on issues of extreme, global poverty – arguably the first cause a person ought to care about. After all, isn’t saving a life more important that improving a life?

I rather felt that I should debate the merits of each organizations and each type of work before making a final determination on which I should highlight.

But just the thought of that made me exhausted.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Why not just do it? So I followed my plan and implemented my instinct, but the whole time I wondered if that was Right.

I still don’t have the answers and I still don’t have the energy, but it feels like an important question to keep asking.

I like to support organizations in my immediate community. I like to support organizations whose work I can engage in. I like to support organizations which are terribly small and woefully under resourced. Organizations which could never afford to have me on their staff.

And maybe that is wrong. Maybe that’s not ideal. Maybe I should give all my money to Oxfam or another aid organization. Maybe I should worry first only about saving a life.

But.

As much as that sounds right, it doesn’t feel right.

That work is important. But this work is important. So much work is important.

There is too much, too much, wrong in the world to only focus on one issue. I can’t solve all the world’s problems, but I can try to chip away at a few. And that work is important.

I am reminded of a story someone once told me about a young man who met the Buddha. The young man argued that he shouldn’t give away his money, that he should use it to improve his station, thereby allowing him to give more money in the future.

Perhaps, the Buddha replied. But the people need it now.

Humanitarian work is critically important. We should all give to support that work as much as possible.

But we can’t do just that. We can’t ignore the other suffering in the world. We can’t turn our backs on those who are ‘well-off’ only because they are not dying. We can’t do it all, but we can do what we can.

The work is important, and the people need it now.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Why you Shouldn’t Give Anonymously (even if it makes you feel like a tool)

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve been reflecting a lot on philanthropy the last few days – as I’ve been posting about organizations whose work is important to me, I’ve also been making donations to each of those organizations. In case you missed it, here are a few great organizations you may want to donate to:

Like many of you, I try to do what I can to improve my communities. I give time and energy, and I also give money.

But that last bit always seems a bit awkward.

You don’t talk about money in polite company, after all.

I mean, there’s something that feels a bit audacious about philanthropy. As if giving money, even to organizations doing important work, is this wildly extravagant thing. And sharing your donation publicly – well, you might as well just admit that you’re really in it for the glory.

Or, at least that’s what I thought before I started working for non-profits.

Initially, I suppose, I thought giving anonymously was more altruistic.

There is of course, a rich philosophical literature about the nature of altruism and whether such a state even exists, but I’ll neglect that debate here, and simply say that my gut instinct told me that anonymous giving was somehow better. Somehow more noble. The route of those who cared about the work more than they cared about their ego.

So I was somewhat taken aback some ten years ago, when I overheard a development colleague comment that he was trying to convince a donor not to give anonymously.

I was surprised.

A Good person would give anonymously. Why would this fundraiser want to degrade that humility?

I was able to stick around for their reasoning – which I didn’t quite buy at the time – and heard him explain that putting a name to the donation would have a positive impact on other donors and prospects. It would increase the fundraising capacity of the organization, and ultimately, provide better support for the work.

To be honest, that sounded like one of those made-up reasons a corporate type might throw out to cover some deeper motive. Or maybe it was one of those things that only applied to rich, egoist types – if your rich, egoist friends see your name in lights, that will compel them to follow suit.

If that was the case, it still all came down to ego – even if you are one of those rare people who is not motivated by public recognition (or can sufficiently hide their glee at praise) – the reason to not give anonymously was so that you could play on the egos of others for the benefit of your organization.

That’s how I wrote it off at the time, but the incident has stuck with me.

And I think about it often as I make my own non-anonymous gifts to the organizations I care about. Of course, it’s entirely possible that I am just an egoist who really is in it for the glory, but on better days I think of it like this -

Supporting organizations doing important work is not some extravagant thing.

Not everyone has the capacity to do so financially, to be sure, but really, most people do. If you’re not trying to decide whether its the gas bill or electric bill to default on, if you’re not skipping meals because you can’t afford food. If you have the ability to buy something without doing the math on just how much that will leave you with -

Then you can afford to do something. Maybe not much, but you can do something.

Not giving anonymously makes me feel like a bit of a tool. It makes me feel like an egoist who is in it for the glory. But I continue to not give anonymously – not because I hope to manipulate other people’s egos, but because I hope to normalize that behavior.

Supporting organizations doing important work is not some extravagant thing.

It’s not for the rich. It’s not for the self-important. It’s for anyone who has the financial breathing room to spare.

So whatever organizations you support, give. Give publicly. Give at whatever level is meaningful to you, and help us all remember – philanthropy is not an extravagance. It’s an expectation.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Gratitude Challenge, Day 5: Oxfam

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve been called to the gratitude challenge, but rather than follow the rules I’ll be posting each day about an organization whose work I am grateful for.

***

I am grateful for the work of Oxfam. You can support this work here if you feel so moved.

One in eight people around the world are undernourished.

An estimated 22,000 children die each day due to poverty.

Of the 2.2 billion children in the world, an estimated 1 billion live in poverty.

That is not okay.

To be perfectly honest, I am most passionate about issues within my geographic community. I get most riled up by systemic injustice and entrenched discrimination within the United States. I put my personal energy towards working to improve the four square miles of Somerville, Massachusetts. And that work feels like an important use of time.

But that doesn’t mean I can just ignore the rest of the world.

For years I did anti-genocide work, particularly advocating to end the genocide in Darfur.

I am all for fruitless yet important labor, but never have my efforts felt so much like banging my head into the wall.

We’d raise awareness, share the stories of Darfuris and hear from Armenians, Jews, Rwandans, and others who had survived genocide. We’d pressure companies to divest and pressure congress to act. My former Congressmen and four of his colleagues were arrested protesting outside the Sudanese embassy.

But nothing ever changed. Not really.

Darfur was just another in a long history of human rights atrocities. An insidious problem from hell that was always surrounded by reasons not to act.

So why do I share this story in a post about the important work of Oxfam?

Well. This might be a little Walter Lippman of me, but I actually don’t think I’m in a position to do the best work on global affairs.

I suppose the work I did on Darfur was important, but if raising awareness is the most I can offer – I suspect there are better ways to do that than organizing events which only reach the same hard core activists who already care.

Not to be self deprecating, but I honestly don’t think I have enough expertise on global politics and international affairs to deeply engage in this work.

In Somerville, I work with small, on-the-ground non-profits. I like organizations where I can dive in and do the work, where I can add some experience and expertise, where my efforts can help them meet their goals.

I just don’t have that capacity when in comes to international work.

That might be one of the many things that makes me a terrible person, but I prefer to think of it like this: international work is just not my calling. It’s not where I can add the most value and it’s not where I should dedicate the majority of my time.

But I damn sure better make sure someone is doing that work.

I am grateful to Oxfam because they address on the ground, dire needs, and advocate for better policy to confront the underlying issues.

I am grateful to Oxfam because they do have the expertise to dive into these issues. To find solutions. To keep up the fight.

I am grateful to Oxfam because when a massive Ebola epidemic threatens many in the world, Oxfam can do something about it, while I can just sigh. And give money.

Just donating sounds kind of crass, perhaps, but sometimes it’s the best thing you can do. I’d gladly leave this work in their capable hands.

Please consider supporting this work.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Gratitude Challenge, Day 4: JCI Scholars Program

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve been called to the gratitude challenge, but rather than follow the rules I’ll be posting each day about an organization whose work I am grateful for.

***

I am grateful for the work of the Jessup Correctional Institution (JCI) Scholars Program. If you feel so moved, you can support this work here.

Through the hard work of area faculty members, the JCI Scholars Program offers college-level classes free of charge to people at the Jessup Correctional Institution in Maryland.

It is no secret the the prison system in America is broken. Nearly a quarter of the world’s prisoners are held in American prisons. Black men are heavily over represented in this sample, and almost 9% of Black men in their late 20s are behind bars.

There is strong evidence to demonstrate that social and institutional racism drive these grim statistics: every second and a half, a public school student is suspended, primarily students of color. 70% of students involved in “in-school” arrests or referred to law enforcement are Black and Latino; 40% of students expelled from U.S. schools each year are black.

Intentionally or not, our system carefully shepherds Black men through a path of increasing dysfunction and punishment. A path which leads to incarceration for many.

Many far wiser than me have written eloquently on the school to prison pipeline, and I could not hope to match their expertise here.

But it is clear that the system is broken. It is clear there is much work to be done.

There are many social justice and legal advocacy organizations engaged in this work, documenting the problems, raising awareness, fighting for solutions.

But I find the work of the JCI Scholar’s Program particularly powerful.

First, as a practical matter, education is a valuable tool. How can we hope to reform the prison system without the voices and the agency of those who have been incarcerated? I could fight for this cause, but, really, I know nothing, nothing about this issue.

I could be an advocate and an ally, and I’d like to do what I can, but ultimately, the people most effected need to be empowered to speak and to act.

Education can be the key to that.

But more deeply, education isn’t just a collection of facts and figures. It is whole ways of thinking, whole approaches to problems. The education I have benefited from has fundamentally shaped and changed me as a person. It has made me who I am.

Everyone should have access to that.

Everyone should have an opportunity to ponder the deep questions, to face the dark challenges, to reflect on their life, their society, and their role in it. Everyone, as the JCI Scholars Program states, should have access to ideas.

Perhaps some of those who benefit from the program may some day return to life on the outside and face the harsh reintegration into society. Perhaps their participation in this program will make them a little different, a little better.

But as the program clearly states, most of their students are lifers. Most have committed violent crimes.

But all of them are people.

All of them.

So while we talk about the intrenched injustice that shaped their experience, while we determine what punishment is best suited for their crime and debate the merits of various carceral approaches.

We should remember – they are all of them people. And all people should have access to ideas. All people should have a voice.

Please consider supporting this work.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Gratitude Challenge, Day 3: Somerville Local First

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve been called to the gratitude challenge, but rather than follow the rules I’ll be posting each day about an organization whose work I am grateful for.

***

I am grateful for the work of Somerville Local First. You can support their work here or purchase tickets to their upcoming fundraiser if you feel so moved.

Somerville Local First is my chapter of the local movement. They provide technical assistance to help locally-owned, independent businesses, they build awareness of the local movement, and they serve as a gathering place for all things Somerville-local.

I have served on the board for about three years.

So why is the “local” movement important?

For me, the local movement is based on a simple premise: our communities are better when our businesses are part of the community.

To be fair, I do my share of corporate shopping. Sometimes, there’s not a locally-sourced alternative. Sometimes…well, sometimes that’s just how it goes.

But it kind of creeps me out that when I go to a Target in Somerville, MA its exactly the same as the Target in Oakland, CA. And it kind of creeps me out that they’ve expanded their grocery section so what used to be a dangerous sinkhole is now a total black hole – or am I the only one who goes in looking for one specific thing and comes out with a dozen things, which maybe I need but which really I don’t need.

And the whole time I’m there I don’t really have a human interaction. I just fall into a soporific daze where suddenly I really need an awkward-print blouse and a dorm-room organizer.

I mean. Not there’s nothing wrong with that. But there’s gotta be more to life.

I prefer shopping local because I get to know the business owners and they get to know me. Because local shopping is a whole different experience – a happy slice of the ’50s without everything wrong with the ’50s.

Because local business owners are weird and they express the weird character of the community.

I could give you all sorts of figures about how shopping local is better for the environment, how shopping local creates more local jobs and puts more money into the local economy.

These are important, but that’s not what moves me.

What moves me about the local movement is that – when I look out on the landscape of businesses and companies I interact with, I know that some will be cold and distant, some will be carefully crafted brands with complex shelf-placement strategies designed to target core consumers.

But some businesses will just be people with an idea. People who think they have something to contribute. Who want to be part of the community and who try to make the community better through their work.

And with all the money, planning and resources those big businesses leverage to get my consumer dollars…it takes a thoughtful effort as a person to remember to shop local. To support the kinds of businesses I want in my community.

To support the kind of community I want in my life.

Please consider supporting this work or joining us at our HarvestFest, our fun, local beer festival!

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Gratitude Challenge, Day 2: The Welcome Project

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve been called to the gratitude challenge, but rather than follow the rules I’ll be posting each day about an organization whose work I am grateful for.

***

I am grateful for the work of The Welcome Project. You can support their work here if you feel so moved.

I serve on the board of this organization which builds the collective power of Somerville immigrants to participate in and shape community decisions.

Someone asked me today why I care about this work, and I found myself rattling off a very practical list of programs.

The Welcome Project offers ESOL classes for adults. They train bilingual high school students as interpreters. They organize a summer “culture camp” which brings together youth from immigrant families to explore their cultural backgrounds.

And all that is just great.

But a list of programs doesn’t capture why I’m grateful for this work.

Much of the work of The Welcome Project has a very practical, skill-building component. Language classes. Interpreter training. These are useful, good things.

But at its heart, the work of The Welcome Project is all about advocacy.

Interpreters increase access at public meetings. Advanced levels of language classes include a social justice component, engaging students in local issues and helping them develop the vocabulary to talk about those issues.

So, yes, on one level, The Welcome Project works to help acclimate immigrants to Somerville, but really, The Welcome Project works to acclimate Somerville to immigrants.

That is to say – everyone living within our community is part of our community.

But that state doesn’t come about on its own. Power structures favor some people over others. Power structures which are deep, long standing, and influenced by a much broader social context.

The only way to change these power structures, to build institutions which are capable of flexibly responding to a shifting citizenry, is to ensure that everyone has a seat at the table.

That everyone’s voice is heard.

That everyone’s voice is understood.

I am grateful for The Welcome Project because they work to ensure that all my neighbors’ voices are heard. That everyone is in a position to speak their mind, influence policy, and engage in the shared work of making our communities better.

I am grateful for The Welcome Project because we can’t have a Good Society without having just society, and we can’t have a just society without everyone passionately involved.

Please consider supporting this work.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Gratitude Challenge, Day 1: Somerville Homeless Coalition

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve been called to the gratitude challenge, but rather than follow the rules I’ll be posting each day about an organization whose work I am grateful for.

***

I am grateful for the work of the Somerville Homeless Coalition. If you are so moved, you can donate to their efforts. If you’re not local to Somerville, I’m sure you can find a comparable organization in your community.

Homelessness, you see, is far too prevalent.

There’s an estimated 610,042 people experiencing homelessness on any given night in the United States, according to the National Alliance to End Homelessness‘ report of HUD statistics.

A 2005 United Nations Commission on Human Rights found that 100 million people are homeless worldwide.

The Somerville Homeless Coalition supports homeless and near homeless individuals and families in my immediate community. They operate several shelters, provide resources and support, and work to prevent homelessness from occurring in the first place.

You see, it costs the state about $36,000 a year to put a family in a family shelter, but the average cost to prevent a family from becoming homeless is $833.

People become homeless for a wide variety of reasons, but it’s often the case that an unexpected crisis – a medical bill, a car repair, a lost job – makes all the difference. Minimal support in a crisis can change people’s lives and prevent them from becoming homeless.

The health outcomes for people living in poverty are grim, and these issues are only compounded for those who experience homelessness.

I am grateful for the work of the Somerville Homeless Coalition because too many people in our communities face these challenges. Too many lose their homes, their health, their livelihoods. Too many hit rock bottom and have nowhere to turn for support.

And I am grateful for the work of the Somerville Homeless Coalition because too often these people are invisible.

Social skills are hard enough, and as members of society we are never taught how to interact with homeless people. Perhaps worse, we’re taught to be scared of them, to be disguised with them, perhaps to distrust them. To “other” them.

So when we pass our homeless neighbors, rather than a nod and a friendly hi, we’re likely to shuffle silently past. We keep our eyes down. Hold our breath. Hope they don’t ask for change. We hurry on by.

Then we forget they ever existed.

Because life is so much easier, so much less painful, so much less awkward that way.

If we pretend they don’t exist, perhaps the problem will go away.

So, the work of the Somerville Homeless Coalition is important, but perhaps what I am most grateful for is best articulated in their values statement: We treat all people with dignity and respect, always with the understanding that we are part of one community.

I am grateful for the Somerville Homeless Coalition because we are all part of one community. Because all people should be treated with dignity and respect.

Please consider supporting this work.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail

Gratitude Challenge: Accepted(ish)

Posted on by
Reply

So. I was called out for the “Gratitude Challenge” – one of these memes where you spend five days posting three things you are grateful for.

Since I’m a terrible person who is in favor of hopelessness and opposed to happiness, you can imagine how I might feel about something like this. Just like the creatures from Where the Wild Things Are, I roll my terrible eyes and gnash my terrible teeth.

I’m just too much a cynic, skeptic, and snark to embrace this exercise as it’s meant to be embraced.

To be honest, I do love the little things in life. I am grateful for the rustle of leaves, the smell of air, the taste of ice cream cake. But nobody wants to hear about those things.

Or, at least, I don’t want to hear about these things. I just annoyed myself already.

Not to judge people who are into that kind of thing – you do you, man – but that’s just not how I roll. It’s just not.

But, if you do want to know, there is one thing which I am truly grateful for – that despite all the world’s problems, despite all the hardship, injustice, and misery we face as a society – I am grateful that there are people working every day to make our communities better.

Most of you reading this probably are those people.

So, thanks for that.

Never one to turn down a challenge, I will, of course, accept this call. But being a rebel and a wild woman, in accepting the challenge I will do so entirely by my own rules.

Over the next five blogging days, I’ll post about an organization whose work moves me. Whose efforts I am grateful for.

I’ll tell you about their work. I’ll tell you why I care. And I’ll make a donation in an amount which is meaningful to me.

I won’t tag people each day, though the rules say I should. Instead, my challenge to all of you, and to myself, is this:

Do the best you can. Do the most good you can. And do it in the way which is most meaningful to you and has the most positive impact possible.

Gratitude challenge accepted.

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditlinkedintumblrmail