I fought off tears for the entire 144 minutes of Cinderella Man. My emotions churned as I watched Jim Braddock fight for his family’s survival. Before the 1929 crash, Braddock was a superstar heavyweight boxer. But, injuries and the Great Depression knocked him to the mat. He stumbled from stardom and lost his place on the professional circuit. At home, his career crash meant he could no longer provide for his wife and kids. Star-turned-beggar, Braddock worked on the grueling docks for mere pennies to keep his home’s heat on.
On the brink of collapse, Braddock intercepted a whisper of hope. With the pantry sparse and the coffers empty, he caught a shot to reclaim his dignity: His agent secured him a fight. It wasn’t the main stage, but a chance to dance was better than no chance at all. His kids’ hungry bellies trumped any indignity he felt about back-stepping to the minor leagues.
“I fight and I put a little more distance between my kids and the street,” Braddock said. He grew tired of hoping-and-praying. He knew the purse in this minor league fight would create a buffer for his family. The relatively meager payday would move them a step back from the cliff. Not a mile from the cliff, but far enough to avoid disaster.
Several weeks ago while traveling in Asia, I walked through the types of neighborhoods I only knew from documentaries. Weaving through tight corridors with corrugated tin homes creeping onto the footpath, I came to terms with my own prosperity. The last shantytown we visited was the saddest place I’ve been. There, I sat with members of this community who explained the plight of their town—poor health, drugs, violence, porous homes, bad schools, lepers—their list went on and on. Because of their disheartened lot, they named their squatter village Helpless. They could have chosen anything, but they selected a name that voiced their pain.
Anjali
For the group we visited in Helpless, however, cautious optimism broke through the clouds. “Before, I would spend every penny I had,” Anjali shared. “Now, I have two hundred rupees [$4] saved.” It wasn’t much, but this savings account, like Braddock’s modest winnings, put a little distance between her kids and the street. Now, when Anjali’s kids caught the flu or when she found the rice bin barren, a safety net broke the fall.
In these communities, survival teeters in delicate balance. When the storms of life hit, they cause more than minor setbacks. Four dollars in a safe place means the difference between disaster and desperation. A subtle, yet remarkably substantial, difference.
As I watched Cinderella Man after my return from Asia, the scenes of Hoovervilles reminded me of Helpless. It wasn’t hard to reconcile these two images—both places stifled by suffocating despair. In the midst of the chaos in Hoovervilles and Helpless, however, unrelenting hope emerged. Braddock and Anjali refused to admit defeat and fought their way back from the cliff. That first step away from disaster is the most important. For Braddock, this step came with a fist pump in the boxing ring. And for Anjali, that step took the form of two hundred rupees in a savings account with her neighbors.
My day job transports me beyond our nation’s borders every morning. I rally our supporters to unleash grassroots entrepreneurs in places like Bujumbura and Lubumbashi. But, I live in Denver. I walk these streets. So when it comes to my town, who do I cheer for (apart from Tim Tebow, of course)?
Many great organizations serve our city. We need important agencies like Joshua Station and Providence Network that protect our city’s most-vulnerable families. What energizes me most, however, are entrepreneurs at the margins. I’m drawn to the innovators that give job opportunities to those who typically go without. These two great organizations inspire me:
An open industrial garage door invites discount-hunters into a nondescript warehouse in northeast Denver. Inside Bud’s Warehouse, profundities of all varieties are commonplace. Bud’s, a home improvement thrift store, hires the unhireable, mostly former felons. They repurpose construction site leftovers and lighten the load on landfills by selling these products to deal-hunting contractors and home remodelers.
Each morning, the Bud’s team gathers for a “hood check” to discuss faith, family and work. Bud’s is the cornerstone business of the Belay Enterprises portfolio. But, after growing Bud’s into a $2 million business, they launched new ventures including a commercial cleaning company, a baby clothing consignment store, an auto garage, a jail-based bakery and a custom-woodworking business. Together, these businesses help rebuild lives and create immense value in our community. The masses–including major publications like Christianity Today–are starting to catch the Belay fever.
They aren’t based in Denver, but Jobs for Life recently sank roots into Coloradan soil (and they’re probably in your city too). Throughout the Mile High City, many unemployed and underemployed people are rediscovering their purpose through Jobs for Life seminars. God designed people to apply their hand to a craft, to work hard and to yield fruit from their labor.
Especially in this socioeconomic climate, we need to recapture this message. Even many good-hearted charitable efforts stifle our design as workers. We forget we are co-creators with the God who toiled for six long days to create the galaxies and ecosystems. Jobs for Life helps our communities rekindle the message of work. Their new video communicates this better than I can:
Entrepreneurship is in my blood. I visit places like Bud’s Warehouse and am inspired by their creativity, profitability and impact. Who inspires you in your city?
This isn’t your typical ill-fitting tee shirt. It’s American Apparel.
As an owner of two American Apparel tees, I can affirm these shirts fit well. We know they fashion comfortable garb, but we also know their clothes are “crafted with pride in the USA.”
Out of the limelight, a financial services company lurks in mystery. We see Western Union signs everywhere, but I’m guessing like me, you’ve never been a customer. Earlier this year, I pitched TOMS Shoes vs. Whole Foods in a corporate do-gooder analysis. Today’s matchup? American Apparel vs. Western Union.
American Apparel
Activists flock to American Apparel (AA) products, drawn to their fashion-forward designs and ethical business practices. AA lauds how they “pioneer industry standards of social and environmental responsibility in the workplace.” They pay their factory workers well and give back to Los Angeles, their home city. They construct quality products.
If that was the whole story, I would hail their greatness. But it’s not. They do some things well, but their problems plunge deeper than even the deepest of their v-neck man tees.
Frankly, the more I learn about American Apparel, the less I like. As a person of faith, I find AA’s blatant disregard for decency appalling. The New York Times described their marketing as “sexually charged.” AA categorizes it as “provocative.” It’s sadly ironic they are a clothing company because their ads feature very little of it. This edginess appeals to their customers, but it isn’t winsome. It’s willfully vulgar. “Controversial as [our marketing] may be, we’ll continue to give our core audience what they crave,” their website flaunts.
Their (lack of) corporate values start at the top. Founder and CEO, Dov Charney is a real class-act. He’s called the “Hugh Hefner of retailing, decorating his stores with covers of Penthouse magazine” and he shamelessly and unapologetically exploits his female employees. Call me a prude, but I think AA cheapens women. From their leadership to their marketing, AA distills the value of women down to their dimensions. And that, to me, flies in the face of good American business and true social responsibility.
Speaking of being American, their worshiped manufacturing process drips with arrogance. I believe in free markets and believe healthy market economies are the “best broken system” to continue to lift hundreds of millions of people out of poverty globally. AA positions their advertising as if the only way to run an ethical company is to hire American laborers. It’s not. That’s bad economics and it flies in the face of great global companies like Gap and Apple that use global manufacturing facilities to create great jobs in developing countries.
It’s fine for companies to tout their Americanism–and for consumers to buy local–but don’t suggest companies which do otherwise are villains. This protectionist tone incites Americans (both progressives and conservatives, which baffles me on both counts, but that’s another topic) against our global neighbors. Since when is helping provide jobs for poor people in other countries unAmerican (or unChristian, for that matter)? Western Union
Western Union pops up in the worst places. Their outlets populate seamy strip malls and dimly lit corner stores. I associate these Western Union outlets with pawn shops, money lenders and liquor stores, retailers that victimize on the chronic poverty found in these neighborhoods. While it may have been fair to accuse Western Union of this twenty years ago, it isn’t any longer.
On an evening drive recently, I did a quick stop at Western Union with my friend Clarisse, a Congolese refugee. We pulled up to a gas station and she jumped out. A minute later, she slid back in the car. Transaction complete: She had just sent $50 to her aging mother in Brazzaville, Congo. That $50 was her mother’s only income that week.
Later in the evening, her mom called. The money had arrived. Today, over $200 million will change hands though over one million transactions, just like the $50 Clarisse sent to her mom. Western Union sustains families through these transactions. In Haiti, over half of the national income comes through these transactions–remittances–and has been a lifeblood for millions of struggling families. They’re safely transmitting billions of dollars to and from remote places like Congo, Somalia and Laos. And, they’re doing so with transparency in their pricing.
They have outlets in every country in the entire world. They treat and pay their 7,000 employees well. And, they give generously, granting over $70M to innovative nonprofits that “connect families with economic opportunity,” aligning closely with the heartbeat of Western Union’s core business. These agencies include many top microfinance organizations (before you think I’m biased, they haven’t given to HOPE yet, but hopefully someday!). Western Union understands their unique contribution to the world–safely transmitting money globally between loved ones–and they promote human flourishing through the opportunities they create. The Verdict
It is a charade to claim American Apparel is a socially conscious company. They quietly erode the worth of women and loudly abhor real American values. Still, Christians line up to print their graphics on these “ethically manufactured” tees. In contrast, Western Union makes the world a dramatically better place for poor families with very little fanfare. This match-up isn’t even a contest: Western Union scores a first-round knockout.
No, you’re not really buying a Christmas heifer. I realize this might be a Santa’s-not-real moment, but don’t rush to label me a charitable Scrooge. I love Christmas and the wreath of generosity that surrounds the season.
You aren’t buying a heifer, but this isn’t hush-hush. Heifer International, the heifer-distributing marvel, even tells you so. When you make your purchase, they note that “every gift to Heifer International represents a gift to our total mission.” In other words, when you “gift a heifer,” you grow the general fund. Nearly every donated dollar (94%) is an unrestricted, no-strings-attached general fund contribution.
Heifers are certainly bought by Heifer International. Over 40,000 of them in 2010! But your gift of one heifer isn’t directly buying one heifer. So, are they lying to us? I’ll make the question more personal: Am I lying to you? Because here’s the truth: My organization does it too.
While Heifer pioneered the approach, most charities followed closely behind them—World Vision, The Red Cross and even my employer, HOPE. While we all state something like “the gifts depicted in this catalog symbolically represent our work,” most people assume they’re really buying heifers, goats, sewing machines, honeybees, trees and art classes. The catalog phenomenon, at its core, is beautiful. I laud efforts to inspire generosity and cultivate significance in the giving process. But, are we swindling you, the generous Christmas giver?
It’s an interesting ethical case study. I’ll offer the following considerations:
Integrity in the Means: We can’t raise millions by making this appeal: Make a general, undesignated gift to help us cover our overhead costs this Christmas season! Do charitable ends justify ethically cloudy means? I don’t think so. Swindling is never good, even for the noblest of causes. Small adjustments can ensure no one is tricked by the process.
HOPE, for example, directs all catalog purchases directly to the featured country. While “buying a sewing machine for a Congolese entrepreneur” doesn’t mean your funding will directly buy a sewing machine, your donation does benefit our work in Congo. World Vision does a great job of forthrightly describing their process (pictured below). Hold your charity to a high standard and call us out if you spot duping. Compassion, experts in donor-to-beneficiary connections through their child sponsorship model, has developed the best system I’ve seen to actually connect gift purchase to the end use (see note in comments below for more details).
Focus on the Ends: Compelling marketing and heartfelt appeals should never trump your belief in the organizations you support. Will “the heifer” be a meal or a business? Do Kenyan families need heifers? Will the heifers be given in dignifying ways? Does the heifer-giver share my faith and values? What percentage of my gift will go to buying the heifer and what percentage to overhead? These questions—questions of implementation and effectiveness—should drive Christmas giving. It is the heifer beneficiary, after all, whose opinion matters most. Knowing that opinion demands investigation of the ends.
Heifers are big business at Christmastime. And for many reasons, this is exciting. This season is about connections among people. Jesus connecting with humanity as an infant. Families connecting with one another. Friends connecting over spiced cider. And this is what endears me to gift catalogs: Givers connecting with receivers—and ultimately beneficiaries–in meaningful, tangible ways. Not a donation into the abyss, but a shared moment between people. As organizations, we need to respect the significance of these moments by elevating our integrity in how we create them.
Sitcoms rarely address the effectiveness of charity and international aid. However, Michael Scott and Andy Bernard exposited these deep issues on a recent episode of The Office. Aiming to impress their friends and colleagues, the winsome duo joined a busload of aspiring youngsters bound for Mexico on a three month mission trip.
Andy: Save me an aisle seat, Michael, I’m coming. I will not stand idly by while these Mexican villagers are sick.
Trip Leader: We are actually building a school.
Andy: Whatever. I won’t stand for it.
Michael: How long till we get to Mexico?
Andy: Well, two days minus how long we’ve been on the road. 45 minutes? So, like two days basically. Maybe more.
Michael: What are we building down there again? Like a hospital? A school for Mexicans? What?
Andy: I don’t know. I thought it was like a gymnasium.
Michael: Why aren’t they building it for themselves?
Andy: They don’t know how.
Michael: Do we know how? I don’t know how.
The episode closes with the comedic tandem abandoning their charitable foray, convicted that their talents would be better served selling paper to small business owners in Scranton. Channeling their inner Robert Lupton (and my other favorites, Brian Fikkert, Dambisa Moyo and Bill Easterly), Scott and Bernard touch on some deep issues in their short monologue: Is our charity needed? Are we displacing someone locally who could do the job? Do we actually have the skills and capacity to serve well? Is our helping really helping? …an unlikely source prompts big questions.
Tis’ the season to display angel trees. I love the spirit of generosity that characterizes Christmastime. But, if our compassion goes awry, we can do more harm than good (like in this instance, when I totally missed the mark). Here are four tips to make your Christmas gift giveaway both compassionate and dignifying to those you serve: 1. Affirm parents as providers
Ensure the giveaway affirms God’s designed role for parents as providers. Children need to view their parents as the gift purchasers and givers. It undermines healthy family dynamics for volunteers to give the gifts directly to the children (unless the children do not have parents). Fight for the dignity of these families. 2. Host a store
A number of innovating churches and ministries, such as Mile High Ministries in Denver, transitioned from person-to-person sponsorship to hosting a “store” for families unable to afford full-cost Christmas gifts for their children. Charge something (even if its highly subsidized) rather than charging nothing as it protects dignity. Finding a “great bargain” resonates deeper than awaiting a handout. Parents experience the joy of shopping (and giving to their kids). Volunteers experience the joy of creating a welcoming, festive and enjoyable environment for the families. Make it fun! Feature live music, gift wrapping stations, hot beverages, and elf-costume-wearing childcare staff.
3. Avoid “knight on white horse” syndrome
We give horn-tooting a free pass during this season. Celebrate generosity, but do so with humility. As James reminds us, “Every good and perfect gift comes from above.” Our ability to give is not a privilege we have earned; it too is a gift. As givers, we come as friends, not as rescuers, standing firmly on our common ground. This sets the table for our benevolence. Leaders who affirm this will position their gift giveaways for success. 4. Employ sensitivity with pictures and video
How would you want to be portrayed if you were a recipient? Let that be your guide.
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What did I miss? Any successful examples or models of churches or groups that have done Christmas gift campaigns well? Please post below!
