Give Creatively this #GivingTuesday
Towards an expanded definition of “giving”
Over the years, a potpourri of hashtag holidays have emerged in the afterglow of Thanksgiving. Originally designed as a way to jumpstart the holiday buying season, Black Friday (1960–80s) and Cyber Monday (2004) appeal to our near-carnal consumerism. More recently, Small Business Saturday (2010) and Giving Tuesday (2012) beg us to align our pocketbooks with our local economies and cherished causes. (Perhaps we sandwiched the more meaningful days in between to make ourselves feel better?) The one I’ve been thinking about the most is the newest kid on the block: #GivingTuesday.
“#GivingTuesday™ is a campaign to create a national day of giving at the start of the annual holiday season. It celebrates and encourages charitable activities that support nonprofit organizations.”
How can we leverage these opportunities to “give” while expanding our definition about what it means to “give”?
My giving looks different these days.
While gorging on my mother’s pie last year, I reflected on my giving over the year and noticed that my own habits have shifted over the years, and not just with the ebbs and flow of salary. This past year, I supported my favorite local institutions and enrolled in a few more cultural memberships than before, but often what I considered “giving” wasn’t always something I could write off on my taxes come April. Instead of sponsoring a heifer, tithing weekly, or clicking to support a friend’s big-name charity race, I chose to support independent creators, media makers and small community projects with time, money, and social promotion. For the last six years, I’ve given through sites like Kickstarter and Indiegogo and contributed to cultural content creators like Maria Popova’s BrainPickings blog, and my favorite podcasts.
The catch is, when it comes to #GivingTuesday, these small acts of supporting creativity, entrepreneurship, or community don’t “count” in our traditional views of charity. Many projects on crowdfunding sites are too small, informal, or grassroots to come with proper organizational structures or tax exempt statuses. Other projects related to products or technology may seem closer to purchasing or investing, and thus blur the line between altruism and consumerism. With more intimate and personalized crowdsourcing sites like GoFundMe, I might be more likely to support a friend’s costs for cancer treatment than a large organization like the American Cancer Society. As these platforms increase in popularity, they also push to reshape our view of public goods. In 2015, Kickstarter hit two major landmarks. It passed $2 billion in funds raised on its platform and it became an official Public Benefit Corporation, a legal designation for mission-driving companies that includes ambitious requirements and protections for purpose, accountability, and transparency. This allows them to make sound personal business decisions as well as consider the impact on their community and the creative economy they aim to stoke. This scale and shift in structure begs reflection on what it means to give and invest in the world we want to build.
We need to expand our definition of giving.
There is a gap in our culture’s definition of giving that doesn’t include new modes of contributing to social communities we belong to, causes we care about, or futures we believe in.
This is not to say that giving to traditional nonprofits isn’t still important. It is. They play a crucial role in our social and cultural fabric and the civic values we believe in (especially after this year’s election). However, we need to change our attitude about generosity to understand the new landscape of charitable giving for young people. As a 2014 NPR piece on millennial giving by futurist Amy Webb explains, “It may seem something simple. It’s just semantics: donation vs. investment. But I think to a millennial, who’s grown up in a very different world, one that’s more participatory because of the digital tools that we have, to them they want to feel like they’re making an investment. Not just that they’re investing their capital, but they’re investing emotionally.”
Reflecting back on patterns over the last five years.
As an older millennial who’s crossed the thirty threshold, I’ve had the chance to reflect back at my giving during my early career years. I’ve been curious enough about the differences between my traditional charitable giving and crowd-funding giving that I’ve made a pretty nerdy spreadsheet. I hope to take a more holistic look at volunteering and donating, but in the interim, here’s what I have noticed:
- Connecting to a creative identity and new ideas, not just friends. Less than half of the time, I had some connection (however tertiary) to the friends or organizations I supported on Kickstarter. In my mind, there’s a fundamental difference between supporting a friend’s poetry anthology and a stranger’s pop-up classical music platform. In one instance, I want to show my friend that I believe in his book and career, but in the case of the stranger, I’m inspired to give because I want to live in a world where people listen to Mozart in their neighbors’ homes. I want to see the next generation of young girls be confident and creative, which is why I support projects like GoldieBlox, Yellowberry Bras, Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls. As design professor Liz Gerber explains in a 2013 Marketplace piece on crowdfunding motivations,
“I think if we think about it as purely a financial transaction, it doesn’t always make sense…it’s actually about connecting with your social network and exploring new ideas in the public sphere.”
- A bias towards creating, regardless of the reward. As a creator (or aspiring one), I feel a connection to those bold enough to take a chance on an idea. From 2012–2014, well over half of my “giving/investing” was done through crowdfunding projects (both commercial and community endeavors). Some people criticize Kickstarter for being a bona fide pre-order site, but well over half of the time, I didn’t care whether I reaped a tangible benefit. Of those 46 project contributions between 2010–2016, I only selected “rewards” for myself 15% of the time and used them as gifts less than 20% of the time. In other words, I wanted to see these projects in the world, not just in my shopping cart.
- Funding intentional organizational growth, and not only operating costs. I also noticed that even when it came to institutional projects (like a school, media collective, or tutoring center), I gave more generously to discrete projects on Kickstarter rather than traditional pledge drives for annual funds. While I believe in the power of the unsexy giving that covers overhead and operating costs, I appreciated when organizations rallied around projects and made new organizational milestones visible. It was fun to watch Roman Mars go from funding his wildly popular design podcast (1, 2) to fueling a podcast collective and pilot fund for experimental new media. In the process, Mars and his collaborators at PRX grew their fundraising and individual supporters by over 360%. While some of these organizations have moved past Kickstarter, participating in these milestones early on made me more likely to give as a member or annual fund donor in the future.
Creative ways to give today
As we shift our browser history today from our favorite deals to our beloved causes, I hope we can expand our view of of traditional giving. As you renew your memberships and pledge to annual funds, try these platforms that harness our collective giving power as well:
- Get creative — Find a project to back on IndieGoGo or Kickstarter that represents a cause you believe in or the world you want to live in.
- Get personal — Discover a cause who needs a boost on GoFundMe or CrowdRise, a classroom that has a dream on Donor’s Choose, or a an individual or community who needs compassion on YouCaring.
- Get entrepreneurial — Support a self-starting content creator on Patreon or an entrepreneur who deserves a chance on Kiva.
Special thanks to Jess Herman for editing, Annie Spratt for Unsplash gift photo, and Kevin Von Qualen/Experience Institute for LeapKit photo.
