Philanthropy is all about wanting to improve the well-being of others, often through generous contributions to meaningful causes. During the holiday season, this idea takes center stage, as we witness coat drives for children in need, bell ringers outside stores, and requests for canned food donations.
As someone who values honesty and authenticity, I navigate life as a single-income mom to my seven-year-old daughter, who is enrolled in our local public school. My job at a nonprofit organization doesn’t pay much, but it gives me fulfillment, knowing that I make a difference for those who are far less fortunate than I am.
One evening, while settling into bed to read with my daughter—a cherished routine—she casually mentioned needing to bring 25 canned goods to school for a food drive the next day. My heart raced in panic as I asked, “Twenty-five? Are you sure?” Yes, she confirmed, explaining that five cans earned one clip-up, ten cans earned two, and so on, with 25 guaranteeing a clip-up to the principal’s office for a candy reward.
For those unfamiliar, clip charts are classroom management systems designed to help kids visualize their behavior throughout the day by moving their names up or down based on their actions. Recent studies suggest that these systems can lead to embarrassment and anxiety, affecting children’s ability to learn. Now, this same system is being used to incentivize the donation of non-perishable food items, providing a path to candy rewards for those who meet the donation goals.
This revelation left me uneasy. My daughter often comes home distressed about her position on the clip chart, and now, she felt pressured to bring in 25 cans to earn a clip-up. Are we teaching our kids that good behavior merits rewards? Or are we implying that those who can’t contribute aren’t worthy of recognition?
The most troubling aspect of this system is that it twists the concept of philanthropy into something self-serving. By rewarding donations with clip-ups, we send the message that giving is merely transactional. My daughter became so fixated on the reward that she lost sight of the actual purpose of the food drive.
While everyone appreciates recognition for generosity—something any nonprofit will tell you is vital for donor engagement—most of us give because we believe in the cause, not for personal gain. This intrinsic value of charity is the reason I dedicate my efforts to helping others. If we instill this mindset in our children early on, we can cultivate a generation that understands the true essence of giving, diminishing the need for rewards in the future.
Instead of teaching kids to give in exchange for rewards, why not encourage them to contribute because it’s the right thing to do? Helping others should come from a place of compassion, not a desire for personal gain. After all, fostering a sense of community means recognizing that our collective well-being relies on supporting one another.
For more insights on community engagement and its significance, check out this link. There are numerous resources about this topic, including information from the CDC that can provide additional context on community efforts.
In summary, while incentives for donations may seem harmless, they can undermine the very values we wish to instill in our children. Teaching them to give selflessly will ultimately create a more compassionate and supportive community for everyone.