by Elliott Jones, Sula House
In college, a friend of mine asked me a question about something she'd heard I'd said. "I heard," she began, trembling slightly with a mixture of anger and guilt, "that you think we shouldn't buy TOMS."
What she heard was half-true. I love TOMS (seriously check them out, a definite model for aspiring triple-bottom-line businesses everywhere), especially since they've made an explicit commitment to not only giving a pair of shoes to a child in need for every pair that's bought, but to require fair labor practices in their factories.
What I actually said was that buying TOMS was great but it wasn't the answer. My ideology was: If you don't need new shoes, don't buy any. Buying TOMS because it makes you feel good to support the cause ,plus you get something out of it, instead of buying TOMS as a replacement for another shoe that you were already going to buy because you need new shoes, substitutes one "evil" for another - supporting unethical labor practices for supporting unnecessary consumerism.
It's a tough, weird ethical debate; surely buying TOMS, no matter how many pairs, is better than buying sweatshop-produced shoes, and gets more shoes onto the feet of children in Argentina and South Africa and wherever else TOMS gives shoes. Add to that the fact that the more TOMS we buy means more fair-wage jobs for folks in Argentina. But instead of "wasting" resources with a purchase, your money will be much better spent through a donation, no matter how ethical the company.
...Right?
It's an interesting dilemma and, fortunately for LVCers, one we don't have to confront often - no capital, no capitalism. But we're no strangers to making others, who do less than we do or do it for different reasons, feel guilty about their choices.
It reminds me of a parallel ethical debate - donate to the panhandler or to the social service agency down the street from her? One is obviously more practical, more efficient, and is the "right" choice. But there's nothing better than the feeling like you've helped someone eat that day - and nothing worse than the cold, sad stare as you lie into the face of a desperate man while coins fatten your purse. There's nothing better than looking down at your feet and imagining that there's a kid halfway around the world possibly wearing the same shoes as you, his first pair ever, because of you - and nothing worse than wondering how much waste the consumerism you've contributed to produces and how cheap, relatively speaking at least, it would be to feed and clothe all of the children around the world.
I think we tend to want to downplay this, the emotional side of charity - when ignorant rich White moms in suburbs talk about the warm fuzzies they feel when they venture downtown to serve soup kitchen food once a year at Christmas, it's hard to not want to scoff and say, "It's not about you." But - it kind of is. And - we're just like her. And - it's OK.
Whether we're doing good for our own benefit - because it gives us warm fuzzies, or we like the idea of being martyrs, or it will look good on our law school application, or the shoes are so fashionable right now - or for the "right" reasons (as though they exist), we're still doing good. And good is good. And more people doing more good is even more good, so if feeling good gets more people to do more good then feeling good is good too. Right?
I maintain: if you have money to burn, and no need to buy anything, but you wanna help out, then donate it - but I want to apologize to my friend. We should never feel guilty for doing good. Go buy yourself a pair of TOMS, sweetie. They're good shoes.
Elliott Jones writes a blog which you can check out at: http://elliottwrites.blogspot.com
Showing posts with label Simplicity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Simplicity. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
First Person Plural

Justice. Community. Simplicity. These are the core values that we share in LVC. We sometimes talk about them as the spiritual practices that unite us. Though we come from a wide array of religious backgrounds and beliefs, we share the hope for lives well-lived—finding and creating meaning in the world through acts of justice, bonds of community, and the freedom of simplicity.
“We” is a loaded word—as I write it, I am one person alone with my computer and my cup of (fair trade, shade grown, organic, carbon neutral—just in case you’re wondering) coffee. I am on my own journey to understand and live out these values, so perhaps the first person singular pronoun would be more appropriate. But I cannot bring myself to use it; I simply cannot make sense of the values of LVC from an individual point of view. I have to locate myself within the community of current and former volunteers, church folk, staff, and supporters who teach and support and encourage and challenge each other on this journey. And so I will claim the audacious pronoun and invite you to claim it as well.
Community. One of our LVC houses in Seattle is named “Ubuntu,” a word that comes to us from the South African church and translates “I am because we are” or “I cannot be without you.” The fullness of our humanity is not found in the standard American virtues of self-reliance and independence. We are also created to need one another—and to need to give of ourselves to one another.
Justice. We are called to live into a world where justice prevails, rooted in the conviction that this world and each person in it was created to shine with the image of the Creator. Many of our houses around the country are named after the saints who inspire us in this work: Nelson Mandela, Dorothy Day, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Sojourner Truth. We strive for a more just world through the work we do and the way we do it—confessing our shortcomings, recognizing the pitfalls of institutional racism, looking honestly and critically at the legacies of colonialism and “helping.”
Simplicity. “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.” A dear friend who had been a child during the Depression shared with me this simple piece of household advice. We practice living simply to free ourselves from the dissatisfaction of lives of consumption. But not only that—we also recognize the impact of our choices on the planet, the impact of the planet’s changes on the most vulnerable of our sisters and brothers, and the concept of Ubuntu that extends beyond the people in our daily lives. We choose lives that are sustainable in solidarity with the world that offers us such beauty and wonder.
The work of non-profits can feel like a hamster wheel at times—there is always more good to be done and never enough time and resources to do all that we hope. But we are in it together—here to celebrate and hearten, confront and absolve each other as go.
During this season of short days and ample moonlight, may the blanket of darkness embrace our spirits and give us time to reflect, to ponder, to question, and to wonder.
Labels:
Community,
Darla DeFrance,
Justice,
Simplicity
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