Friday, May 25, 2012

My Complicated Relationship with Phil

One 20-something explains the ups and downs of her personal connection to Jewish philanthropy.

by Ariella Lis

There is this acquaintance in my life named Philanthropy. Let’s call him “Phil” for short.

People really like to talk to me about Phil. Lots of important Jews are worried that “my generation” will not give to Jewish causes. But, I ease their anxiety. I’m living proof that Jews in their twenties care a great deal about Jewish giving. Technically, I’m a grad student, but because of Phil, my calendar says very un-academic things like “end of grant cycle” and “conference call” and “funders meeting.” These things sound important, but are very inconvenient when they occur over finals and midterms. Because of Phil, I get a lot of emails, I get invited to sit on boards, and I go to a lot of conferences. Sometimes, I suspect that Phil implanted a chip in my brain with a database of Jewish organizations and Jewish causes. This is sometimes helpful, but also annoying.

Sometimes, people seem extra nice or oddly attentive because they know I am involved with Phil. It makes me very uncomfortable when people praise me for caring about Jewish philanthropy. I inherited resources and a legacy of giving from my parents, who are very active in the Jewish community and give to many Jewish and non-Jewish causes. I am blessed that I was born into a philanthropic family and I am proud of my parents and their choices. I’ve noticed that a lot of Jewish institutions create giving hierarchies. People who give modest contributions are called “members” or “supporters.” But, the more you give, the snazzier the title gets. Adding a certain amount takes you from member, to emerging leader, to leader, to board member, to honorary chairperson, and so on. Perhaps I am reading a bit too much into this structure. Clearly the titles and process are different for each organization. I believe that donors should have a method of participating in the organizations in which they contribute. But, does a sizeable donation make you a leader? I’m not sure. Do I feel like a leader when I make a contribution? Not really. I’m only 23. I still have a lot to learn about Jewish philanthropy. Sometimes I need a break from Phil. I’ll probably grow out of one cause and grow into another. At some point, I’ll probably say the wrong thing. I’ll probably pretend I’m enjoying myself. I’ll probably complain. But isn’t this what all Jewish philanthropists do?

I’ve also seen people use Phil as an excuse. Giving a generous donation to a Jewish cause does not give you license to act like a jerk. Having money and giving money does not give you the right to jump to the front of the line, to mistreat or disrespect other people, or to be ignorant or apathetic. Phil has taught me many things, has introduced me to amazing people, and has taken me to meaningful places and events. Phil puts on a really great show.

But, Phil is not perfect. I have many friends who work for Phil’s causes, and some are not treated very well. Many Jewish professionals work very hard for very little money. Phil is very anxious about the Jewish world. Phil likes to make sweeping generalizations about what “my generation” needs. Sometimes, I feel like Phil’s first priority is introducing Jewish boys to Jewish girls so they can have Jewish babies. I tell Phil to stop staring at my ovaries. I remind Phil that young Jewish adults make great activists. Labor rights, civil rights, women’s rights, Soviet Jewry, the election of President Obama, the State of Israel were all championed by phenomenal, young Jewish leaders. I agree that Jews have made the world a better place. So maybe Jewish philanthropists should be more interested in supporting the Jewish person I am now, instead of worrying about the type of Jewish mother I may be. Phil needs to chill out. It will be okay.

As if implanting a microchip in my brain isn’t creepy enough, some of my friends wonder if I have drunk too much of Phil’s kosher Kool-Aid and now I am blind. I am seeing the world through Phil’s eyes instead of my own. I don’t like Kool-Aid, kosher or otherwise. But, I care deeply about Jewish causes. This is not because I participated in a successful Jewish identity building program, funded by a leading Jewish philanthropist. I care about Jewish causes because my parents raised me in a home where Judaism was fun, informal, and meaningful. They established that Jewish causes were not something I should care about, but something that is worth caring about. I enjoy advocating for causes I care about, having my voice listened to, and participating in relevant conversations about Jewish life. Being a young Jewish philanthropist makes things complicated, but at the end of the day, I like having Phil in my life.

Ariella Lis is a graduate student at Brandeis University, where she is researching technology, virtual communication, and the formation of Jewish ideas. She was raised in Detroit, Michigan. Ariella is involved with her family’s private foundation, the Jewish Women’s Foundation of Metro Detroit, and the Slingshot Fund.

This article originally appeared in 614: HBI eZine – an online magazine published by the Hadassah-Brandeis Institute to spark conversation among young Jewish women about hot topics relevant to their lives. Reprinted with permission.



Comments

4 to responses “My Complicated Relationship with Phil”
  1. Bingo.

    Kol Ha-Kavod Ariella.

    We might view being philanthropic as an obligation, a mitzvah. Fair enough. But Jewish causes still have to earn their place — there’s no entitlement. The “So and so just bought a new Lexus; they should be giving more” approach must be put out to permanent pasture. The notion of donor fatigue should be similarly exiled.

    Jewish causes must be meaningful, relevant, resulting in impact and run efficiently. It’s not donor fatigue. It’s product fatigue. Donors are still giving (if they have capacity) — they are not fatigued. Perhaps they are giving less to Jewish causes.

    We are way too casual (and we appear rather desperate) anointing leaders. Not everybody who shows up to volunteer is a leader. Not everybody who sits on a board is a leader. And not everybody who makes a significant donation is a leader. This is not to slight them or to accuse them of lacking leadership interest, capacity or potential. Nor should we assume they want to be leaders. Perhaps some are leaders in other arenas.

    Philanthropists deserve appropriate recognition and appreciation. Our mantra should be give because it feels good, not give until it hurts. Fundraisers are not in the business of reaching into pockets but rather in the business of connecting hearts, brains and wallets with needs and results.

  2. Amy says:

    Moving, relevant, and clever. Thank you, Ms. Lis.

  3. MBS says:

    While, I agree with most of what Steve said… I must disagree this this comment, “Jewish causes must be meaningful, relevant, resulting in impact and run efficiently. It’s not donor fatigue. It’s product fatigue.”. Um, product fatigue? So, there are not more Jewish people in need of food, medical attention, school, and elderly care? How do we become “fatigued” by the everyday problems that have been around for decades? Unfortunately, these things are not going away and will most likely always be a “product” of now. What we need to do is find new ways to engage the donor and help them realize these are STILL current issues and will be for quite some time.

  4. It’s frustrating, MBS, and I share your frustration. It’s frustrating that a natural disaster captures (appropriately) so much attention and funds and yet the conditions in Haiti prior to the earthquake were deplorable and largely ignored.

    Frustrating, for sure. And reality, too. Perhaps a reflection of human nature.

    When I say product fatigue, that doesn’t mean that need has disappeared or is less worthy (although worthy is in the eyes of the beholder and for some Jewish causes the beholders are speaking with their check-writing or lack thereof). Could marketing be a factor in product fatigue? Perhaps.

    As a major federation exec recently stated, maybe instead of constantly bemoaning that they (donors) don’t get our story or that we need to tell our story better, maybe we need a different story?

    Some donors respond to specific needs. Some donors respond to systemic change that could reduce or eliminate the need. Some donors may look at funding a need for decades and conclude that they actually want to fund overall solutions.

    It’s not that we are fatigued by every day problems that have been around for decades. It’s that some donors want them solved or to move their philanthropy to causes that are solvable and/or are being solved. Maybe some can become discouraged that problems persist after decades of their philanthropic investment? And they want to put their philanthropy elsewhere. And to be sure, some simply want to fund other causes.

    Bottom line, it’s not an entitlement. There are many meaningful choices out there. Why choose us? Blaming the donor doesn’t seem to me to be a very good strategy — and it’s not exactly working anyway.

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