Graffiti 2009-10

CONNIE ZHANG

“AIDS”, “cancer”, and “poverty” have become the chewed up pieces of gum we see along the sidewalks. Fresh and meaningful at the beginning but discarded after the sweet and minty flavours are consumed. We see advertisements with these words and they no longer impact us as much while millions around the world still suffer from horrifying diseases and empty stomachs plaguing those less fortunate. Why? People are less informed, too pre-occupied with the rewards that lure us to donate, and anxious to satisfy their superficial urges.

The first piece of gum, unfortunately, is North Toronto’s Charity Week. A longstanding school tradition that raises up to $25,000 for a benevolent cause, we cheer and compete through the seven day event and proceed to forget about it until next year. Each year, students tirelessly brainstorm homeform events, eagerly sign up for reality-show-like events such as Washroom Survivor, and diligently attend endless fashion show rehearsals, all in an effort to give back to those in need. When students were surveyed about the first thing they associated with “Charity Week”, it was hardly surprising when they responded with phrases containing “grilled cheese sandwiches, henna tattoos, Ms.Chisohm’s cookies, cheap pizza, and events like Scavenger Hunt and Fashion Show”. No one mentioned Not for Sale, the charity selected by students to fundraise for in 2010, an organization with a mission to end modern day human trafficking. During Charity Week, students are simply “aware” of the name of the charity, type of cause, and the need to raise lots of money. However, we rarely try to become “well-informed” of where the money goes, why it remains an issue, and how it impacts those who are suffering. Students are overwhelmed by the excitement of food, action and shows, and we care little for what charity we’re helping and the cause.

A magnified version of Charity Week can be seen in the large companies getting involved in philanthropic actions. Gap, Livestrong, Starbucks, and Dairy Queen are among the few that are doing their part for a better world. Consumers walk through the mall and see Gap (Red) Shirts, Livestrong bracelets, Starbucks Ethos Water, and Dairy Queen’s Miracle Treat Blizzards. This type of charitable funding can be described as the mutualistic donation, where both the donor and charity benefit from the money given. Who wouldn’t want to wear a cool shirt that helps cure AIDS in Africa, or enjoy a bottle of water while making it possible for more children to receive clean water? However, a deeper look into these charitable deeds proves to be far less charitable than we imagine. A GAP (Red) T-shirt sells for $28.00, while a normal GAP T-shirt sells for $12.50; as GAP donates half of its profits to help fight HIV/AIDS in Africa, it’s still earning a profit from the other $14.00 and we still pay $1.50 more than a normal T-shirt. Although the difference may seem modest, the excess $1.50 paid for the thousands of shirts sold each day could easily be directly donated to charity. Starbucks Ethos Water boasts in helping to provide clean water, yet only 50cents from the premium four dollars it charges for a non-recyled-plastic bottle of normal water goes to charity. Starbucks’ goal to raise $10 million dollars by 2011 is also accompanied by a profit of $500 million dollars and tons of everlasting plastic. In the end, companies will always look for a profit in their philanthropic endeavours and we, as consumers, are led to view incentives as maximum utilization of our money and assume the habit of expecting something in return for contributing. We don’t care how much money is actually donated as long as our superficial desires are satisfied. The powerful incentives overpower the other option of simply giving out of generosity and care instead of asking for something in return.

As more companies promote an incentive-driven perspective, people neglect methods of fundraising that lack rewards. Toronto has recently seen an increasing number of canvassers along the sidewalk, enduring the icy winds, physical fatigue, wafts from hotdog stands, and cold shoulders from people walking by. These friendly canvassers engage in another type of fundraising I’d like to call commensalism, a term used in ecological biology describing a relationship where one organism benefits and the other is neither harmed nor benefitted. We complain that they’re taking up the sidewalks, bombarding us for credit card numbers, and attempting to gain our pity. For some of these charities such as Greenpeace, not funded by the government or endorsed by large companies, canvassing and door-to-door approaches are their most meaningful approach to educate citizens of current environmental crises (besides brochures or websites). Having surveyed Ryan, a canvasser on Yonge and Eglinton, he estimated 2-3 donors each day donate monthly for at least 6 years without any funds going towards the production of food or bracelet incentives. Logically thinking, the benefits of a commensalism method far outweigh mutualistic methods. More money goes directly towards helping, we decide what cause we want to relieve rather than which incentives are cooler, and our morals and values are put to the test as to whether we genuinely care about helping others when there are no incentives.

Our incentive-driven society will only decrease aid for the deprived and increase our reliance on shallow rewards instead of genuinely acting upon our feelings to help resolve conflicts and issues within our society. After we have chewed through our piece of gum, enjoyed its sweet and minty flavour, then proceeded to spit it out, it will still remain, just like cancer or AIDs, neglected on the sidewalk and forgotten after we’ve enjoyed the shallow benefits.