Sunday, December 23rd 2007
Charity Is “IN”
A friend of mine suckered me into volunteering for the Warner Brothers annual holiday party for homeless gay youth of Los Angeles. I mean, how do you say “no” to an invitation of that nature? I like my assholery to be of a certain brand. The party was a raging success; plenty of smiles, hot dancing and an incredibly impressive spread of food. Oh yes, and the faint undercurrent of despair, loneliness and wounded souls. That’s right, I could smell it. My overactive imagination compounded that by creating scenarios to go with many of the attending youths. I really do have a flair for being unnecessarily dramatic.
When in the company of people less fortunate than myself I always feel awkward. Am I acting TOO nice? Does my expression look judgmental? That sort of typical, dumb-ass, suburban whitey-tries-to-do-good thing. After serving turkey on the buffet line for about an hour I was watching some of the dancers on stage when a beautiful girl came up to me and asked me how I pronounced my name (volunteers wear name tags). She introduced herself as Starr and started to watch the dancers with me; occasionally commenting on this or that. I was mortified. While many people who know me will boast that my conversational skills are exceptional, there are times when I can hardly force together a rudimentary sentence. What does one talk about with a gorgeous, underage black girl who doesn’t happen to have a permanent residence?
“Would you believe it took them nearly an hour to detail my car yesterday?”
“In the end I had to settle for an inferior, locally manufactured comforter because the Hungarian down was on backorder.”
“One of the greatest benefits to this new job is that I’m close enough to drive home for lunch. Of course, the free medical/dental/vision and 100% 401k matching is also quite good.”
Thankfully Starr mentioned that she was doing a water cleanse diet and that was something I could talk to her about. Contrary to what some might think, I can be a freaky health nut. We also bonded over the downright shocking sex appeal of one of the “sexy Santas” they had to take photos with the kids. At one point he took his shirt off and I thought I was going to burst into flames. My morbid imagination couldn’t leave well enough alone and I had to wonder how many of those Polaroid photos with sexy Santa would end up in plastic bags at the morgue. Yes, that’s the brain I get to live with.
A few of Starr’s friends came by and I spoke with some of them, but she never introduced me. At one point I was literally surrounded by homeless gays and I felt like a lawnmower in Macy’s. Then a fight broke out and was quickly neutralized by the kids in the immediate vicinity. I was impressed. They were policing themselves out of respect for the event. It was a very “documentary” moment. I realize how silly it was of me to be so uncomfortable, but I couldn’t help myself. And when I noticed some of the volunteers breaking down the buffet tables I excused myself from Starr’s company saying I needed to help out.
Next was a guy named Steve that my friend met when she volunteered for this event last year. She was discouraged to see him again (i.e. homeless for more than a year) and told me that when she encountered him near the bathrooms that he didn’t seem “all there” to her. When she pointed him out he was alone on the dance floor cranking out some pretty bad hip hop moves. He looked really cute from that distance, but on closer inspection was definitely worse for the wear. It crushed me. I had to sit and wonder what circumstances led to his current situation. What happened to all of these kids?
Near the end of the event I was heading to the room upstairs where they would be handing out the gift bags. Just ahead of me was Steve and I avoided eye contact because, frankly, he scared me. His eyes seemed to be witnessing events other than those around him and his mannerisms gave every indication that he might snap at any moment. I paused to allow him to pass in front of me and he said, “Hello there” in the most normal and genuine tone and I was surprised. I returned the greeting and continued on my way feeling like a bona fide jackass.
This is why I distance myself. I don’t watch the news or read the paper. I’m too sensitive and I get enraged about all of the needless suffering and pain in our world. I made a lot of incredibly tasteless jokes with my friends just to keep from tearing up. I felt like such a fraud spending three lousy hours in aid of the unfortunate. I loathe seasonal charity doers! I left the party a little early not really knowing what to think.
The drive home was somber. My heart went out to all those great kids enduring a hard life for this reason or that. I chastised myself for the petty grievances and minuscule conflicts that interrupt what should be a jubilant life. For the trials of my childhood, which I begrudgingly endured, any of those kids would gladly exchange. The opportunities I’ve had, the love and adoration of my family, the friends I ignore and abuse, the beautiful apartment I neglect, the shiny, new car that I didn’t have detailed yesterday and is overdue for an oil change. I’ve never felt more American in my life. My country that infects all corners of the globe with its gluttony and disdain. Exploiting every resource and turning a blind eye to atrocities in the name of good trade. Wearing a pious mask to protect the world against injustice while abused innocents are left to survive by their wits on our cruel city streets.
It’s all well and good to achieve a little perspective in this season of “good will towards men” but why must this attitude be restricted? I freely admit that I am a raging hypocrite. There is certainly a great deal I could do all year for those souls bereft of the many blessings in life I’ve come to expect and yet I do precious little for the betterment of myself. They say charity begins at home and I think that’s something we should all think about.
Read what you wrote. I registered to give you such comfort as might be found in the knowledge that you aren’t alone in how you feel. Lady Bountiful kind of sucks as a role to play. (geez that sounds so pretentious… oh well too late)
Thank you DFG for taking the time to post. I think many of us have conflicted views when it comes to those in need. Since I am an escapist, I don’t usually have to worry about such things.
You have so hit on a chord here. I often argue with my business partner about all the charity donations and fundraisers I do throughout the year. We don’t really make any money, but I feel it necessary to constantly give back.
Anyhow, your awkward feelings surrounding the event make sense. But, remember this, millions upon millions of people do nothing at all. You at least reached out, in however a small part you see it. But, I guarantee you touched a lot of those kids in ways you don’t even know.
When it comes to charity, I say follow your heart and your instinct. You can’t do everything, and you can’t give to everybody that asks. But, you can do your part when the right moment hits, and that, my friend, is what changes the world for the better.
Merry Xmas!!
M~
Dearest Jerrod,
Your effort deserves resolve.
All resolve, no matter how dismissive is heartfelt. Whether by personal policy or pay your manners and actions are all of you — fine and sound.
Yours, Rita
Thank you, Rita. And thank you again for the hilarious holiday card I received today. For the readers, it was a recycled card – I mean it was sent to someone else before and Rita placed custom stickers on it with a personal message to me. As always, you and Jim are on the cutting edge!
Hey there BW, don’t be so hard on yourself. You volunteered to help spread a little love and joy for those kids when many others copped out with lame excuses. Plus, it is only natural to feel ackward about our own good fortune when we are in the presence of others less fortunate; and there is no need to apologize for our feelings. They are what make us human, without them we would be soulless zombies?
I was blessed with an exceptionally kind, generous, and loving grandmother who lived with our family for a few years before she died. Your comments remind me of what she would say to me after hearing some trivial complaint about my day. She would say: If that is the worst thing that happened to you today, that’s not so bad, and she was always right.
I don’t know you, but I doubt you are a raging hypocrite. I sense you are much more of a kind, generous, and loving man; nobody can ask for much more than that.
Try and spread some more of that love and joy every day; the world could use it.
Be well.
Merry Christmas!
I suggest you not to attend those events pretending you’re saving the world. It makes you suffer. Just live happily with your hypocrisy away from those people, for you don’t help at all.
Charity is an upper-class pain in the ass.
Let the empathy job to those who can, on day in day out.
Happy New Years guys!
I don’t think I ever brought up the ludicrous delusion that I was saving the world. The humble goal of this particular event was to provide a brief departure from the trials of life on the street and on that front it was a raging success. My personal benefit was that of some much-needed perspective, which is the point I hoped to convey by sharing this story.
ahh, a new entry! beautiful.
If you get a chance, write us something after new years too
rest assured DUDE, they are a comin!!!