The Problem With Giving

Large organizations, UNHCR and Harvard Medical School and the like are said to offer up "two" as the magic number.  Two years post a natural disaster and things change.  Aid dries up, and those left behind must find their own way.  I've pondered this of late as I found myself muddling through a sea of obnoxious requests, outrageous comments made about aid received, and an overall ugly sense of entitlement creeping into the Tohoku disaster region as a whole.  Two-plus years since a series of tsunamis wiped out Japan's northeastern coastline, there's absolute truth work still needs to be done.  Equally, a victim-mentality and a "gimme gimme" environment is now just as prevalent as is the community of those who are striving to move on.

If the statement "what doesn't break you makes you stronger" is true, many in Tohoku are now broken.  How and where does one find the will to rebuild without an income?  Those who are elderly (adult diaper sales surpassed baby diaper sales for the first time in Japan) should take out a loan to build a house where they will ... what?  Move in and die?  Words like these sound crass and cold.  That doesn't make them untrue.

Wide-spread depression, questions on how to move forward, whether life is worth living are all present.  This is not to say most feel this way.  I say this to point out with the passage of time and little tangible improvement hope wanes.

Is it then natural for those so used to the twisted combination of grief and pain who have also asked for and received pretty much all they need to now use their loss to ask for more?  The word to focus on is "natural" and the implication, "is this normal?"  That I am being asked to raise funds for items no one would dare have wished for just a few months back ... what does this mean?

Some complaints I've heard about items received remind me of an ill-behaved child who would scold grandma for giving her a birthday cake with white icing instead of pink.  Others impress me with their justification for why they need a new (insert pretty much anything here).

I can't quote the Rolling Stones and sing to them "you can't always get what you want."  Nor can I bring up the example of how ridiculous it is for little girls to ask for ponies for Christmas, the ultimate in a "but I want one thus deserve it" argument.  In the minds of many disaster victims, they truly "need" that item the rest of us don't have.  Does their pain explain their behavior?  Does being a victim mean they should get to ask for whatever they want and expect it?  If you knew the kinds of requests I'm getting I think you would agree, the answer is "NO."

Giving in post-disaster Tohoku needs to change.  For this to happen, donors must know what defines a "must have" versus "wouldn't it be nice if."  This requires a level of honesty among those in Tohoku that is lacking.  There's no other nicer way of saying this.  For many outside of Tohoku there's a real desire to help, especially now that time has passed and the residents left behind feel forgotten.  Offering up everything on their wish list is not the way to offer aid.  They won't like me saying this, but again, that doesn't make it any less true.

The ugliest part about this is what I can't and won't share:  the actual examples.  I purposely block the nasty parts of the reality of Tohoku giving (and receiving) from reaching you because if you knew what some wanted and that word got out to the donors ("they asked for what?") aid would dry up right then and there.  (At least from that donor and others they choose to tell.)  This is why I post updates like this.  You're getting the truth.  Just not all of it. 

My point is this:  I ask for reflection from donors going forward.  Are you giving because you want to check off your "I donated" box?  Is this a real need?  Whom does it help?   This is not a band-aid?  Where are you getting your information?  How much of this aid is actually reaching the recipient?  Do you trust the NPO/NGO/organization you're donating to?  Are you sure they're not sucking up your donation as they "spread it out among the locals"?

The magical "two year mark" has come and gone.  Going forward, I ask for and urge caution, care, honesty, and rechecking facts before checks are cut, items sent, offer extended.  No, little girls in Tohoku do not deserve a "pony" for their birthday.  Grandma gives you a birthday cake?  The words you're looking for are "thank you" and not a complaint about the color of the icing.  Yes, these are examples.  I settle for these as the truth would make us all weep.

Think before you give.  I'm gently working in Tohoku on the "think before you ask" part.  Hopefully between the two parties putting more thought into what is truly needed there can be more of the kind of aid truly needed.

Blogging: A Problem?

Nora Ephron has been on my mind lately.  The news of her death last week has occupied quite a bit of mental space.  I liked her.  I still do.  Her writing-style, wit, humor, observations, and willingness to put herself "out there" inspired me, pushed me, and made me want to keep writing.

I spent the weekend reading her essays, books, and watching movies she wrote and directed.  It was my private send-off for her.  Except....

I didn't like the movie "Julie & Julia."  More specifically, I didn't like the Julie character.  Julia Child has always been an inspiration.  Here again was a woman with biting wit, fearless, and willing to try new things.  I like women who reinvent themselves. Wanting to cook like Julia Child, I bought her cookbooks.  I can cook, but realizing I don't have the love of cooking Julia Child was blessed with, I long ago gave up wanting to be her.

Julie, the woman in the movie who blogged about her year of cooking from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, wrote about her trials, experiences, feelings, and frustrations.  This, I found tedious.  I couldn't relate.  Herein lies my latest concern.

Why do I blog?  What does blogging accomplish?  I tell myself I'm sharing news about the tsunami that hit Tohoku last year, that keeping this news on someone's radar screen is my mission.  It's my job. 

But...

Just as I got tired of Julie in less than two hours, I have to assume there are plenty of people in the world who are sick of hearing about Tohoku.  No.  I know there are people sick of hearing about Tohoku.  Immediate family members, good friends, so-so acquaintances have told me as much.

"Your poor husband."
"Japan can take care of itself."
"You're leaving your family behind.  For what?  Why?"

For better or worse, we are dependent upon the media for our news.  News stories, what's considered "Breaking News" changes with each new event.  Sexy stories stay on the front pages a bit longer than the rest.  Since March of last year when the earthquake and tsunami hit Japan, the media reported on Libya, Bin Laden's death, the whole Weiner-gate thing,  Arnold Schwarzenegger's love child, the floods in Thailand, the typhoon and subsequent floods in the Philippines, tornadoes, Olympic atheletes, the upcoming US Presidential election, and the Colorado wildfires.  That's not even a partial list.


I went to Japan because I have an emotional connection to the country.  The only news story from the aforementioned list I have such a connection to (a remote one at that) is the Presidential election.  All the rest are stories that took place somewhere else.  I can't relate to the other stories.  I don't have that "emotional connection" so necessary to be able to continue reading.  How then can I expect people without this attachment to relate to what's going on in Japan?


Before leaving for Japan last March, I sent out a series of e-mails telling people I was going to Japan, and that I was taking donations.  A pastor from a local church wrote saying she was "disappointed" and wished I had given the congregation more time to donate items.  I wrote back saying I would have given the church more time if I myself had known sooner I was going.  When she asked for the two duffel bags she donated to be returned, I said I'd ask someone else for duffel bags.  (I wasn't going to ask people who hadn't worn clean underwear in three weeks to return a donation.)  When she wrote this past February saying she couldn't and wouldn't disseminate my report to the congregation because it sounded like I was asking for money, I gave up.  Sadly, this is a classic example of what happens when people are detached from a story.


While I will keep blogging about Tohoku and Japan in general, I realize putting myself out there to the world, the unknown world at that, comes with a price.  I could be just as tedious to some as Julie was to me today.  While this concerns me, greatly mind you, I hope you are able to think bigger and broader, be less picky and critical, more open-minded and willing to hear just what's needed, what's going on, and why this is important.  For those who do not share my emotional connection to Japan, I realize I'm asking a lot.  I trust your maturity takes you beyond where mine took me today.


I questioned myself today as to whether I should keep blogging.  I really didn't like Julie.  In the end, I decided to trust in the goodness of humankind.  Surely, just as those who read Julie's blog and liked it, there are those who aren't tired of hearing about Tohoku.


So, for now, I will keep blogging, hoping as I write my dislike of Julie is not an accurate barometer of people in general.

Tohoku forgotten?

Granted I've been in Japan less than 48 hours.  Yesterday was a wash.  Walking around town in a daze, I can say now I wasn't taking much in.  Today is different.  I'm in the city again where I'm most comfortable.  My eyes are more focused.  I see things better, clearer.  I'm struck by what's not present.  Ask me again in three weeks, six weeks and I may take this back.  Today, I stand by this.

I've walked through stations.  I've ridden on trains.  I've watched television.  Gone are the posters, signage, shows, reports, news stories discussing what happened in Tohoku in March.  Sitting in front of the television now, I'm watching a report on how children are faring post March 11th.  This is the first time I've seen or heard the words "Tohoku" since arriving in Japan this time. 

What happened?  What changed?  The obvious answer is time.  Donor fatigue sunk in long ago.  The ever present sense of resolve and perseverance seems to have been replaced with apathy, hopelessness, and a lack of interest.  Like other catastrophes, natural and man-made, people get tired of hearing and reading news on the same topic.  I get that.  I understand how the rest of the world has stopped discussing Japan.  But, here, too?  That Japan isn't even reporting on the lives of those in Tohoku, this surprises me.

Then there's this. 

Starbucks has stopped accepting donations for those in the Tohoku prefectures.  The announcement states they stopped collecting money at the end of September, and tells coffee-buyers they donated over 35,000,000 yen to the Japanese Red Cross.  That's no small sum.  But, why stop now?  I don't get it. 

I am incredibly aware of the fact I cannot be a gong ringing on my own, trying to keep peoples' interest focused on Tohoku.  That means I will spend a significant amount of energy over the next several months figuring out how to balance reporting on what I will do in the Tohoku area, and how not to talk about only that.  I will try.  I really will.  Then again, isn't there something wrong with the fact anyone should have to limit the conveyance of facts (especially facts this important) because the rest of the world has a short attention span?