Let’s make caring cool again

We live in desperate, frightening times. We need caring more than ever.

Covid is raging, killing people in numbers too big for our hearts to grasp. Those of us who can cling to the myth that we live in a safe bubble, where our loved ones are not sick. Those of us who can’t, grieve.

There is little help yet from government leaders. Too many people are left to fight this without support.

But what made me want to write to you today is the sound of chainsaws.

Yesterday, all day. This morning, again. I assume they’re cutting down trees nearby to build more housing. (Cutting down trees hurts me in a way. My brother pointed out that’s Tolkien at work. He’s right.)

But it’s not the trees I’m thinking about. I’m pretty sure the new houses will be up-scale. Possibly age-limited. Because that’s what builds the tax base.

Meanwhile, even here in suburbia, people are struggling. Lost jobs. Lost homes. Lost loved ones.

But that’s what our sector is for, right?

I’m not talking about corporate tax-dodges by sports conglomerates. I’m talking about the majority of our sector – smaller to mid-size organizations.

Here to help.

The nonprofit sector exists to bring together caring people. They’re here to cure people, house people, teach people. Here to preserve wild spaces and show us through art how to be human again.

Here’s how to make caring cool.

Whatever your organization’s particular mission, you have important work to do. You are speaking in a sort of modern wilderness, hoping to reach anyone who cares.

So let’s expand – at least for the moment we’re in – our notion of who cares. Beyond your staff, your volunteers, those who send you money. Let’s think, not for mailing purposes, but for humanity’s sake, about anyone who shows some caring. And treat them like you would family.

We can come together to care

Do you remember the aftermath of 9/11? The country grieved together. But living just outside the NYC area, I also saw many small, human acts of kindness.

My uncle picked up young people from his company who were stranded in the city. Then drove them all the way home to Richmond, VA. That’s at least an eight-hour drive – each way. He didn’t think twice about it.

My neighbor, who was a local police officer, just went to help. He had the skills to be useful, so he went.

Thousands of other people did the same.

We can help now, too.

Yes, wear your mask. Stay home. Worry at least as much about the other person’s health and safety as you do your own.

But care. Exercise that muscle. Practice every day.

Because in this sector, we have the skills.

Along with the chainsaws, I’ve had one of Springsteen’s songs in my head for days. So I’ll leave you with those words:

Now with these hands, with these hands

With these hands, with these hands

I pray, Lord (with these hands, with these hands)

I pray for the strength, Lord (with these hands, with these hands)

I pray for the faith, Lord (with these hands, with these hands)

I pray for your love, Lord (with these hands, with these hands)

I pray for the strength, Lord (with these hands, with these hands)

I pray for your love, Lord (with these hands, with these hands)

I pray for the faith, Lord (with these hands), alright (with these hands)

I pray for the strength, Lord (with these hands), come on (with these hands), come on

Come on rise up, come on rise up

Come on rise up, come on rise up

Come on rise up, come on rise up

Come on rise up, come on rise up

Come on rise up, come on rise up

Come on rise up

Photo by Jess Bailey on Unsplash