Raising funds in a polite place

Fundraising is a tricky thing. There’s something slightly counter-intuitive for us polite Canadians about asking others for money, whether they’re strangers or loved-ones. It’s sometimes even an issue for me to explain to someone new that I work in this field, to the point that I must admit to spinning it a bit on occasion by saying: “I work in fun-raising!”

It shouldn’t really be this way. No matter who we are, we should be able to talk to others about a need and provide them with ways to respond to it. I’m thankful to have had spent just enough time on the “front lines” here at The Mustard Seed to know that the money for which I’m politely asking through invitations to events, is much needed and well spent. Somehow, though, there are times when I still need to be reminded that I’m asking for good reasons. If that happens, I just have a chat with my good friends who are Employment Coaches, or read blogs and updates from Aftercare Workers to be reassured of exactly why I’m doing this. I’m fortunate this way, but I can imagine the difficulty other polite Canadians have when they try to raise funds for The Mustard Seed, especially if they haven’t had this front-row seat to the life change that happens here.

In my case, knowing the real impact donations make is the key to effectively asking people for them, so here’s my encouragement to you: stay informed and stay excited about the community, hope and change that’s happening here so that you can be an advocate for those experiencing it. Reading this blog is a great start, so keep coming back. But if you’re doing that, it’s inevitable that you’ll also want to take tangible action, and fundraising is a way to do that that should not be overlooked, even if it challenges our polite sensibilities.

If you need a clear way to get started with that, take to the streets on Sunday, May 27 with Team Mustard Seed for the Scotiabank Calgary Marathon(find out more about by clicking the banner on our homepage). Whether you’re a seasoned runner or just trying out your first 5 km race, what the team will all have in common is the cause.

If cardio makes you cry, I have another suggestion. Click here to get started. I have lots of ideas for what could raise fun and funds, which I’ll share next time. Stay tuned. Or if you’re already excited, send me an email at lydianutbrown@theseed.ca and we can start right away! And remember, the more informed you are, the more likely others will be to respond to your "ask", whether it's polite or slightly obnoxious. Either way, thanks for reading. You're on your way to making a real difference.

Terry

Photo by Susan Brandt

You know Terry. I know you do. But you don't yet know that you do. Terry was, as a friend states, "as much of the Calgary landscape as the tower itself."

How do I know you know Terry? Well, if you work, live or have ever been downtown, I bet you've seen him. Wait, you probably don't know Terry. But you should have.

Terry was the man who you might have seen on 1st SE or on 1St SW in his wheelchair. You might recognize him as the man who has the prosthetic legs with the Calgary Flames' logo at the top. He doesn't look like the type of person that people ever want to get to know. Ever. And the majority of people make zero effort. At first Terry would always remember me, and then he began to forget me a bit and eventually just asked me for change - but if I said "Hi Terry" in the morning as I walked past, the response was almost radiant.

A couple of years ago, I fell into stride, as you might say, beside Terry as he wheeled to his usual place and I walked to my bus stop after work. I chatted with him for a few moments before, daft as I am, realizing that he was struggling. "Can you help me out?" he asked, and I agreed and moved in behind his wheelchair to give him a push. And boy, it wasn't easy. I'm glad he asked because I am apparently so ridiculously clueless that I wouldn't have realized he had needed help with it. But pushing that chair in my dress coat and cowboy boots opened my eyes. Most people think Terry ended up the way he did because he was weak. It was clear that he was struggling, and was probably the type of "homeless" person that parents warn their children about. But Terry was anything but weak, and he was anything but scary. He was, hands down, one of the strongest men I've ever met. To push his chair for 3 minutes left me breathless. I can't imagine the persistent breathless feeling that his tumultuous life left him with. Terry was a strong man with a life full of struggles. I mean FULL of struggles. And as I struggled up that gentle incline, pushing his wheelchair and hoping I didn't lose my footing, I couldn't help but wonder how many times Terry had perhaps lost his footing, maybe even daily - and how important it is to have people to pick you up when you fall.

Last week I learned of Terry's passing through a colleague on Facebook. I watched the comment thread as many Mustard Seed staff and volunteers left their verbal respects for Terry. If you know him or saw him every day, this is your forum to perhaps leave him a few kind words. And remember Terry when you see someone alone and struggling. Don't be afraid to ask if they need help up the hill.

- Sarah

Quilting for a Cause

Hi, I'm Nathan, and it is my great privilege to have the role of receiving donations at The Mustard Seed. It is truly fantastic to regularly hear the stories of how our donations arrive at our door. Many of our donors are especially thoughtful and put an incredible amount of work into making or collecting the items that we need. The following is one of those great stories.

This is Jeanette Glockner. She is 86 years old and lives alone amongst a community of seniors in Ft. Saskatchewan. For the last ten years, Jeanette has been making quilts for those in poverty in Edmonton’s inner city. She is an example of someone whose personal vision makes her an incredible, independent partner to The Mustard Seed. Just like The Mustard Seed, Jeanette chooses to intentionally follow Jesus Christ by working against the root causes of poverty.

Jeanette’s quilts are an interesting patchwork of varying fabrics that she receives from the surrounding community. She says that very rarely will she need to ask anyone for the fabric. Friends and acquaintances will stop by with material, or on occasion a bag will just show up on Jeanette’s doorstep. Jeanette says, “The Lord Provides.”

While sewing, Jeanette makes a point of incorporating a special message on every quilt. One patch of fabric will always contain the statement, “Jesus Saves. Call on him.” Jeanette hopes that her blankets would help those who receive them to “Come into saving knowledge” of salvation through Jesus Christ.

Jeanette says that it can be difficult for people her age to get out and to make friends. But, she also says, “My best friend is the Lord,” and, “Don’t just sit around.” There are many ways to get involved in taking care of those in need, even from home. It is commendable that Jeanette has so thoroughly committed herself to this idea, especially considering the regular cost of electricity and repairs for her sewing machine.

As a lifeguard in her younger years, Jeanette developed a love for swimming. She still frequents her local, indoor pool as often as five times a week. It was at this swimming pool that, more than ten years ago, Jeanette struck up a conversation with her now long-time friend, Don Adams. Jeanette and Don soon found common ground in their Christian values and desire to help people in need. While Jeanette is able to stay active swimming, she is unable to make the trip to donate her beautiful quilts. This is where Don fits in. For as long as Jeanette has been making her quilts, Don has been regularly making the trip from Ft. Saskatchewan to the heart of Edmonton to make the delivery.

I want to take this opportunity to praise the efforts of those who thoughtfully contribute to the cause of The Mustard Seed. You are not only part of an incredible movement that changes lives daily, but also part of a community that offers hope to the hopeless.

Finally, I want to thank Jeanette and Don who have both inspired me with their humble generosity and incredible kindness.

Good Fences = Good Neighbours?

When Robert Frost wrote, that “Good fences make good neighbours” back in 1914, I wonder if he realized how wrong he was. If it was accurate back then, I’d argue that it has long since ceased to be true. Having lived my whole life in Canada, I would say that we like our fences more than we like our neighbours. The result of good fences has been the formation of barriers more than the forging of connections and these obstacles have fractured our neighbourhoods.

What I’ve experienced is that most of us commute in the early morning darkness, leaving from our garages and travelling to work. Most of us travel alone in cars made for five, listening to radio relationships while we worry about our families, our money and our inner sorrows, fears and hopes. Some of us return home in busses, ears filled with music that only we can hear, reading books only we enjoy. At the end of it all, we scurry back inside our homes. We can go weeks without seeing our neighbours, months without talking to one another. This is an individualistic journey we have created, where we travel alone in the comfort of isolation.

The result of this hard earned independence is that for most of us, we do not have a place where we can share our struggles. We don’t have a neighbour to turn to in trouble, and there’s no place for our troubled neighbour to reach out to us. We ‘love our neighbours’ vicariously through institutional philanthropy and nameless generosity all the while across the fence marriages end, month outlasts money and kids are raised to fear strangers while everyone’s strange. It is little wonder that the most vulnerable among us are swept to the margins into the fence carved alleys of homelessness. Every one of them was once a neighbour. Good fences make good neighbours?

On Sunday, my neighbour Matt and I passed a power drill back and forth over our shared fence. We undid the screws that held us apart and took down our fence. It is far too early to know if indeed we’ve begin the journey towards becoming ‘bad’ neighbours. All I can say is that my six year-old son, Ian immediately took advantage of the extra space he had to play and stopped to ask Matt if he could play in his backyard. Matt simply replied, “No… Ian, this whole backyard is yours.”

What difference have you seen fences make?

Please, leave a comment about ways you think we could be good neighbours.

On Helping

I was walking home from work last Saturday evening when I heard a woman’s voice calling out down the sidewalk. With tears streaming down her face, she was standing by the road waving her arms and yelling at passing cars, “Help! Help! Why won’t anyone help me?!” It was getting dark and snowing heavily- no one was stopping.

I walked towards her, admittedly a little nervous. When I reached her, she collapsed into sobs in my arms, continuing to cry, “Why won’t anyone help me?!” As I talked with “Dawn”, it came out that she had missed two days of methadone treatments, and was in a lot of withdrawal pain. As well, one of her feet was extremely swollen, and an earlier stroke had affected a lot of her physical movements.

Dawn told me that when she went to the hospital to see about her foot and about getting methadone, she was told she was going to have to wait and shouldn’t come to the hospital when she was high. She left after waiting for four hours, but when she tried to go back to her apartment, her methadone withdrawal symptoms made her neighbours lock her out after accusing her of “being a druggie”.

As Dawn wandered the streets in pain and frustration, she began to yell at passing traffic to stop and help her. By the time I found her, Dawn was utterly convinced that everyone passing by just thought she was a “dirty hooker drug addict”, and that’s why they wouldn’t stop. As we stood in the snow, Dawn’s pain was palpable as told me how hard it is to change- she didn’t work the streets anymore and was getting off drugs, but still no one seemed to believe she was anything but a “worthless crackhead”. She asked me how she was supposed to believe in herself if no one else seemed to. Her own self-worth had taken another huge blow from all her negative experiences that day- they had reinforced her belief that she would never really be able to make a difference in her own life, that no one wanted to help her.

I asked Dawn what help she wanted- did she want me to call an ambulance? Give her a bus ticket? Walk with her back to her apartment? It turns out she didn’t want any of those things- I think she had been yelling for help in the deepest sense: “Help me to believe in myself. Help me to change. Help me find hope.”

Dawn has challenged me to consider more fully what we mean when we say we want to “help” people affected by poverty- I'm realizing it is sometimes easier, and so much more complicated, then we think.

Poetry

A few weeks ago Alan, a resident in our new apartment building, shared this poem with me that he had written and told me that I could share this poem because he wanted to help raise awareness around the issues of poverty.  This poem reinforces to be the fact that people don't grow up dreaming about being homeless- they dream the same dreams that we do; travelling the world, falling in love, starting a business, going to school or having a family.

Sleepy Angel

By Alan

I watched her quietly sleep with a slight smile on her face.

Maybe she was dreaming about when her mother threw her a birthday party when she was just six.

Or when she dreamed about being married to a Prince when she was a little girl.

Away she laid quietly sleeping on a cold winter night on a sidewalk downtown Edmonton.

Running from comfort

I am not a runner. There have been many periods in my life where I’ve tried to take up the sport, considering everything from the physical benefits, to the mental clarity to the social “cred” it’s purported to offer. So many of my friends and coworkers are committed to the practice for these reasons and others, but somehow I have yet to succumb to the pressure and sometimes even the temptation to gear up and hit the road for any longer than about four kilometers. Ten minutes in, I always find myself fighting to ignore more than just the pounding of my joints on the pavement and the strain in my poor calf muscles; it becomes a mental battle as I struggle to logically determine how and why so many people actually enjoy this painstaking activity and choose willingly to do it on a regular basis.

I’ve asked runners on several occasions to explain their reasons for engaging in this seemingly masochistic pastime, demanding they justify their behavior and share the precious secrets of how to push through the pain and exasperation.

“Just don’t stop. It’s not comfortable for anyone, but it’s worth it in the end.”

When I first heard this response, I laughed out loud. But now that I’m responsible for The Mustard Seed Calgary’s involvement in the 2012 Scotiabank Calgary Marathon, I’m looking deeper into this statement.

Many of us reading this are living comfortable lives. How often do we truly and intentionally bring ourselves to a challenging place where our physical and mental limits are tested? And how often do we have the opportunity to see the fruits of overcoming challenging times?

We have all heard that overcoming obstacles builds character. In some miniscule way, we are able to relate to those that are living in difficult circumstances as they seek to persevere through battles that are more than a sore calf muscle and a temporarily-increased heart rate.

So if this motivates you to try something that builds character for yourself, why not also run to help build a better life for someone in need?

On May 27, 2012, a team of Mustard Seed staff and supporters will wake up at an uncomfortable hour to participate in the uncomfortable activity of continually propelling one leg past another, having completed the uncomfortable act of asking their friends and family to pledge them in this pursuit.

I invite you to join us. It won’t be comfortable, but it will be worth it in the end.

For more information, see the Calgary Marathon link on our homepage.