Fundraising: essential for social change, or harassment?

I Just posted the following on a discussion section of a bbc article about fundraising:

  I'm a fundraiser and people who complain about being harassed clearly have issues with setting boundaries in their own life and, (very unfairly in my opinion), charity fundraisers seem to bear the brunt of these people's frustrations.
  Assertive, healthy people will either stop or not, and smart people will have a joke and a laugh with us. Many people seem to think that because we're in the street attempting to communicate with people that this makes it ok to load any outstanding social frustrations onto us. Nobody vocally objects in the street to advertising everywhere you look and "price drop tv", macdonalds, betting shops and the commodification of an entire society, but because we're stood there and vulnerable we become targets for all kinds of bigotry and discrimination.
  I am a fundraiser because it's a good way to earn money and because the charities I fundraise for are trying to create a better society for everyone. So before you criticise us, try standing in a busy town centre and asking people for time to talk about something you're passionate about. Try being the change you want to see before you criticise others for their attempts.
  Charities only exist because our society has great gaping gaps in it. The societies to come will laugh at the idea of special organisations to "protect human rights", "stop child abuse" and "halt the destruction of the rainforest". In my opinion we will always need charities until mankind learns to live with itself more harmoniously. So, here's an appeal to everyone to stop blaming and complaining and instead, start using all that energy to start creating the kind of change that they want to see in the world.

9 Weeks on the Streets

  Well... there have been worse jobs. 6 days a week, in a different town centre every day, persuading absolute strangers to contribute financially to the preservation of the rainforest...

"yo G, Whatup!?"

  Within the space of 9 weeks I have cried several times in the street, lost my temper several times more, nearly quit about 5 times, I have been thrown, week after week, from one end of the country to another and back, by my company office who have no respect for my Sundays. I've written a letter which got my team leader unceremoniously fired, had a great flailing argument with the Halifax about my "SURPRISE!" new overdraft fees, and wilfully engaged in a game of unrequited love, which I was only ever going to lose from the beginning...

ouch...

  On the plus side, however, I have cleared most of my overdraft, i've had numerous adventures, some more romantic than others, meeting old friends regularly and getting more time to hang with my little sister. Plus i'm earning enough money to be debt free in about 4 weeks time and still have enough to get myself a shiny new smartphone so I can use the internet wherever I am!

  All in all I can't complain. I'm going to a blues festival this weekend and working in the beautiful Isle of Wight again next week. So, hopefully without sounding too cliche, I'm going to finish by saying that the best thing about this job so far has been creating a good support network and realising what great friends I have...

A Week on the Streets

Charity Fundraising...

If you see a charity fundraiser on the streets, give them a smile, stop, say hello. If you have a job that pays minimum wage or above, stop and listen to what they have to say. If you are busy, thank them for what they are doing and give them a big smile and wish them luck. If you're feeling really generous, give them a hug.

Never, ever, ignore them.



I've just had the weirdest week of my life.

Change of Plan

  So I get up, I shower, I eat half of a banana, I expect the day to go one way, it doesn't. Of course it doesn't. It goes another. Do I get pissed off, do I curse? Well...  Yes... But it changes nothing. Of course, of course today will be upside down... So... I trust... Ok?... Ok.

  Change of plan.

  So I take a deep breath. Change direction, get ready to move and I'm oh-so-close to leaving the house When... I remember... I remember, with increasing clarity, a half forgotten plan... A plan made yesterday to do something else entirely with the day today. Of course. Do that I must. That I must do. Must I do that?... Yes, I must do that. Change of plan.

  Then, ohh, I realise that there's something important I need to do first. Of course. New direction. A little thing, but important nonetheless. A random act of kindness that will take about 15 minutes, cashpoint out of order, that will take 30 minutes, it was sold just before I arrived, that will take over an hour and hurt my feet and now I'm late.

  But it was all worth it and no-one died and I went with the flow and I feel good about the day.

  So here it is...

  The journey... Heed now... "The journey is the destination!" Heed it. Go on. Heed it well. I enjoy the swirl, the lick of fulfilment, the rolling egg of disappointment. The only place we ever go to is now, and we're already here. The destination is the journey itself.

  So roll with it!

  Go with the flow.

  And when everything goes wrong, just laugh. It's funny. Maybe you have to cry first but then laugh. You want something. Universe says no. Ok. Change of plan. There are no mistakes in life, just super magnificent learning opportunities.

  And now, the plan is bed, brush teeth, glass of water, good. But I'm only 99.5% certain. Because I'm 0.5% ready at any moment for....

  Change of plan!

Expectations

  Some days... even when the forecast has been great... it fucking pisses it down.

  So be it.

  Disillusionment, pain, confusion and claustrophobia... and the outlook had been so bright.

  Low expectations don't disappoint often, but they do lead to a kind of rambling nothing... To slow death.

  I'll take on my disappointments and I'll take on the pain of having high hopes, and I'll keep on getting screwed up by life and I'll keep on trying to enjoy the confusion and I'll keep on expecting the best.

Camden Market

Haggling...

Thirty five pounds sir, there you go, i'll bag it for you

No, i'm gonna come back later, maybe...

Thirty


Really. NO, i'm going to look around I'll come back later.

OK. How much are you willing to pay?

Twenty.

I won't make any profit on twenty, twenty five?

No.

I buy them for 20.

No... You don't.

Let me ask my wife if i can sell for twenty

Whatever

Twenty three

I'm going

Ok, twenty

Heh heh. There you go...

 
I enjoyed playing the fun game with the man at Camden Market. I now have a brand new nepalese harlequin jacket, superb design, hand made, i could sell you it for say... thirty five pounds?

New Beginnings

  I threw up today.

  My stomach was feeling tight all morning. A feeling of unfulfilled excitement and desire... and a raw pain too close to the surface.

  A certain situation had triggered some old memories, some half-forgotten teenage nightmares. I took some deep breaths for quarter of an hour. Then threw up. Then laughed.

   I feel like I let go of some long-buried panic today, some bitter seed I had watched bloom, wither and die. Which now, years after swallowing, I spat out.

  That crippled fear belongs in the past.

  love is firmly planted in me today.


  Here's to new beginnings.