I never thought I’d be moved to write about exorbitant human generosity, but this week has done it. Witnessing people trying to help others impacted by Hurricane Harvey through donating the absolutely most random stuff in the world has pushed me right over the edge. I know we all feel bad for people who lost everything. We feel guilty because our homes didn’t get hit. It’s instinctive. We were taught to share. However, just because you inherited two stuffed moose heads from your Uncle Elroy (which puts you in the enviable position of owning an entire EXTRA MOOSE HEAD), doesn’t mean that you should load your second best-only-slightly-nappy-but-with-a-lot-of-good-moosing-left-in-it moose head up in your car and earnestly try to donate it to people who haven’t got any moose heads at all. Moose heads, while being wonderful conversation pieces, aren’t really terrific tools for cleaning up hurricane debris.
While moose head donations may seem a bit hyperbolic (although I guarantee you that someone has donated at least one sad victim of inexpert taxidermy to this cause), they serve as an excellent metaphor for all the useless stuff people gave. Folks in Houston are begging for an immediate stained underwear, prom dress and winter coat cease fire. Port Aransas and Rockport have both stopped accepting goods, instead asking for cash and volunteer labor. Yesterday, a donation center in Rockport was forced to adopt a ‘please just come and take it approach’ to a vast parking lot of used clothing that was about to get rained on and ruined.
Yet, almost everywhere I look, people are still posted up alongside the road collecting
No.
even more stuff with absolutely no rhyme or reason. “We’ll take anything” is not a great philosophy because all things are not equally useful. Do you take just anything camping with you? What do you need more on a construction site – a moose head or a broom? The problem with just giving everything is multi-facted: 1) the stuff has to be sorted which takes volunteers away from more useful tasks; 2) there’s no place to store the extra stuff once it’s sorted; 3) tons of the stuff that isn’t useful will take up landfill space that the community desperately needs to dispose storm debris.
I know folks are trying to help. I know they’re donating nice things to help people get back on their feet – things that maybe they struggled to buy in the first place. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Uncle Elroy to bag both the moose. However, people don’t have houses with four walls and a roof. Driving around Port Aransas pitchforking used end tables and moose heads out the back of your 1983 Datsun pick-up truck isn’t helping anybody right now. Maybe that’s a tiny exaggeration, but essentially chucking chifferobes is the equivalent of donating that fluffy, corseted prom dress — except maybe a little better because you can stand on a chifferobe when you need to work on some of the higher up bits. Having nothing at all is far superior to having an excess of the wrong kinds of things. Nothing is easy to carry, you never have to worry about it getting rained on or ruined, looters already have a whole lot of it, and you never have to pretend to be grateful when someone gives it to you.
If you want to help, there are several very good ways to go about it. Almost always, lists of items people need in disasters are released by reliable organizations like the Red Cross. Don’t deviate from the list. If a city is asking for cash or volunteers, either volunteer or give them cash – don’t load up grandma’s old ottoman and expect that to fix the swimming pool. If communities are asking for clothing donations, don’t go to your closet and just start throwing everything in a bag. STOP! THINK! Say to yourself, “What would I need if I were there?” Two pairs of shorts, a couple of nice t-shirts and a pair of good shoes will go a lot further for people in need than 17 plaid polyester leisure suits, 3 down ski jackets and a “sexy” teddy that looks like it’s made of grommets and black dental floss. Fold clean clothing items and sort them according to type. Absolutely do not donate your stained underpants. Yes, people need underwear, but this is another case where nothing is better than something. If you want to donate underwear, buy new ones and donate those.
Hold on to your bulky items for later. Someone is probably going to need that old microwave that is the approximate size of a bull elephant at some point, but not right now. THINK! If something can’t be carried easily, or would be ruined if left out in the elements, now is not the time to donate it. Just wait. If you still feel guilty, send cash. Seriously, a $2 donation is more meaningful right now than dropping off your love stained futon from college. Just leave that bad boy in the shame corner of your garage, where it belongs.
The Rev’s church’s relief organization (Presbyterian Disaster Assistance – hilariously P.D.A. for short) is an excellent resource on useful items to give during a disaster. You can go to their website at www.pda.pcusa.org. They suggest that you provide 5 gallon, re-sealable “Clean-up Buckets” that contain items like clothesline, laundry detergent, household cleaners, scouring pads, gloves, dust masks and bug spray (please visit their website for a complete list and instructions on how to safely pack and seal your bucket). They also give directions for creating hygiene kits and school kits for kids. These recommendations are made based upon years of disaster relief efforts world-wide. The great thing about kits like these is that they don’t expire, and are easily stored. If the organization winds up with too many, they can use them next time.
The moral of this story is: GIVE THOUGHTFULLY. Follow instructions when you can, and when there aren’t any, take the advice of organizations who know what to do. Throwing moose heads and ottomans at this problem is ultimately only going to make it far worse, even if they’re really nice and attractive moose heads and ottomans.
It’ll be okay. You really can help. Just think about it, be careful and do the right thing. You’ve got a fine head on your shoulders. Uncle Elroy would be proud.
rubberchickensociety 