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Good evening, everyone. Let's talk about money.
This ActBlue campaign will split your donation between 30+ bail funds across the US. Go donate there and to give me some time to write a thread. https://secure.actblue.com/donate/bail_funds_george_floyd
I just donated $1000 to this campaign, after hesitating earlier in the day. I hesitated because a couple days ago I gave $999 to the Minnesota Freedom Fund specifically, when donation match challenges were circulating.
I didn't tweet my donation because I felt awkward about advertising how much I could afford, without hesitation, to donate, at a time when my ongoing good fortune at being in a well-paid line of work is amplified by my good fortune at being still employed and working from home.
On top of this I have strong religious and cultural norms against talking big about what I donate to who. It's not my thing! But right now I have an impulse to talk about it and here is why.
I can't say for sure obviously but I think a lot of people relatively as fortunate as I am, especially around my age, who were college-aged around '08, who have professional-class incomes and few obligations, are extremely frugal.
Frugality is good: it protects you from emergencies, from debt, from losing housing, and from having too much damn stuff in your house.
But it also makes it easy to not really think about what you can afford, when a crisis draws your attention and urgent calls for fundraising are widespread.
Every time I glance at my bank balance, I internalize the number I see as the amount I "should" keep it at, and get fretful when I spend more than usual and see that number go down. This is (forgive me) crazy! That number is pretty big!
$2000 in a couple days, in response to a crisis, in response to the call of friends, their friends, to the leaders of missions of unquestionable justice, is _something I can afford_. I can't afford it every weekend, every month, but I can afford it for now.
That same $2000 (in non-covid circumstances) would be a slight windfall for a shelter organization or the college I went to, pretty irrelevant to the symphony, and probably completely beneath the notice of Planned Parenthood or the ACLU. I don't make philanthropist money.
But for things like bail funds (not high-profile organizations, did you know they existed before this week?), people seeking urgent assistance through crowdfunding ( @PayBlkTrnsWomen btw), and other unglamorous, less bourgeois causes, that $2000 is _lives saved_.
And so when I'm struggling with my timidity, my anger, my fear, and my isolation on a day like today, I think to myself "what can I afford, really, truly?" the honest answer is "actually, kind of a lot."
So, to my friends working cozily at home on their computer-type jobs, I don't presume to know what you've donated this weekend or this year, or what obligations you might have that remain invisible. But sit down and consider: what can you afford? What won't you miss?
I'd never advise or ask anyone to donate money that they'll miss, even for your wants and comforts. But there's amounts you won't miss, and they're bigger than you think. Surprise yourself.
