Karma, tax breaks, and that warm fuzzy feeling: Let’s talk about giving.

While in Senegal as a Peace Corps volunteer, I received three care packages. They were few and far between, but full of precious items: bacon bits, ranch dressing packets, cured sausage, and good pens. I hid the contents under pillows and behind books where I knew my host family would not venture. You see, it is an absolute obligation to share all that you have (especially if it is edible) with all the people in the room or on the bus or within earshot. Even if that means you only get one gummy worm when there were fifty in the bag. This is the way it is.

So I threw away the packaging of those consumed treats down the street so my family didn't suspect my treachery. These were my things. They wouldn’t like it and besides, they can’t even eat pork.

Only in the second year did I accept and come to enjoy the cultural mindset that what is mine is yours. In Wolof, when someone says ‘Thank You’, the response is nokubok, which translates to ‘we share it’. I can’t give what you already have.

Of course I would fume when they used my one and only pot and not put it back in its rightful place, but I at least started asking for things in my care package that everyone would enjoy. Pro tip: Pop Rocks are a hit in West Africa. Apparently, they taste like magic.

We’re taught at a young age not to hit the person who grabs the fire truck from our grasps. (“Sharing is caring!”) Yet we are also taught to value *our things* and to build our fortress, whatever that may look like. It may be a small house with an endless amount of trinkets on the shelves and in the cabinets and some more stuff squeezed into closets. It could be a fancy car or a collection of fancy watches. Our successes laid out for the world (but mostly us) to see.

Only recently, I’ve begun a job as the development person for a refugee and immigrant center.

The stories of the grim reality of desperation are finally reaching the news and I am fortunate to be walking the halls with those who made it to a safer place, but the need does not stop when they cross the border. The center provides services to 400 children and more than 1,000 adults with a surprisingly small budget. I see these sweet and often weary faces every day and cringe at the prospect that I might fail them.

The money I’m in charge of raising will help them to integrate into society. Help them navigate the endless systems and societal norms and what yearbook photos are and how to file taxes and how to take care of your children when it feels like they have to take care of you because they act as your interpreter. The need is not over exaggerated. So why do I feel achingly awkward when the time comes to ask for a small donation?

More than often, these no-wrong-answer questions can be explored within our own tendencies. I looked inward: What do I give to? How much and why?

As you’ve probably guessed, philanthropic work is my work of choice because it is hard. I do not think I will fix the world, but there are pressing societal problems with no clear answer and the (only ameliorated) solution will have to be thoughtful as well as difficult. Scientists are also faced with these things. I’m just not very good at science.

The point: I should be the sort of person to give. Last year, I signed up to give $5 every month to a local organization. That’s it.

That’s nothing.

Millennials are wary of where their money goes. I get that and I think it’s wonderful, but we can’t let that be an excuse not to help. We have this whole beautiful world literally at our fingertips. Find a cause you believe in and reach out. After years of studying this sort of thing, I personally believe your money should stay in your community, but I’ve also had the wonderful privilege of working with small international projects that I know would not exist without donations coming in from America. The joy of giving back to your community is that you can go visit the people you support.

So let’s do this together.

STEP 1: Nail It Down

Make a list of three projects/organizations/funds you want to give to. (Even if you can’t give right now, it’s good to find the people doing work you believe in. You might run into a millionaire that values your opinion.)

If you don’t know where to start, make a list of things you want to change. What are you angry about? Climate change? Black Lives Matter? Then do your research. Make the effort because just as your vote counts your dollar counts too (and sometimes twice as much).

Here’s what I came up with:

1. New Roots in Louisville (To make your donation feel like it counts, try to find a smaller, local non-profit.)
2. Americana Community Center (Sure, I work there, but I know they do good work, and I know they need the $20 that I have to give them.)
3. Casa Hogar (This is an orphanage in Mexico that I have visited. I know the people and I know the kids and I know they need it. They have no kitschy scheme. Just a simple request for a very real need. If you don’t know of a small project like this abroad, ask your friends or the GlobalGiving Foundation. Someone will point you in the right direction.)

An important note: Buying shoes from Toms does not count. Nor does giving a dollar to Arby’s as you get your curly-fry-fix. I do both of those things, but I get a pair of shoes and a free Jamocha Shake out of it. That’s not giving. That’s me buying something and feeling better about it.

STEP 2: Weigh Your Wallet

Alright. So $5 every month is not enough. That’s obvious. I spend more on coffee in one day, but how much do I give?

Many of us grew up in a church and were taught to tithe. Many of us no longer find ourselves in church, but let’s make a point to continue the tradition. Let’s shoot for 10%.

I’m about to be very honest about my financial status. It’s awkward and I’m sorry, but I’m going to do it anyway:

Millennials are covered in debt and I am no exception. I owe $96,000 to Discover, Citi, and Navient (Sallie Mae) because I accidentally decided I wanted to go to the school of my dreams. Whatever the cost. I left Syracuse University with a $111,000 bill and they even covered half of my tuition.

Whelp.

I pay $856 a month toward my student loans. Maybe what I should do is stop buying all that coffee and those shoes (and food) so I can pay off the debt faster. But that doesn’t feel like living. I refuse to let these loans define me. I have had two jobs since I left the Peace Corps and I will live with that requirement in order to live. So be it.

I also don’t want a third job so if we’re serious about this giving thing let’s cheat a little. Let’s take what we make (after taxes) and then let’s deduct all of our monthly bills and see what we have to work with. 10% of our disposable income. Logically, that should be doable.

I make $2,200 a month from my full-time job and $720 from my part-time job (approximately). My bills include my car payment, life and car insurance, my cell phone bill, my student loan payments, rent, utilities, and a little off the top for groceries. That’s about $1700 a month. (Louisville is cheap, you guys. Come visit me.)

That leaves me with $500 of disposable income every month. So let’s give $50 away every month. Easy peezy.

Yet here I am. Uncomfortable with this concept. I want to send my mom to Ireland! I promised her! I have nephews and a niece who won’t have the means to pay for college like me. What about my non-existent savings account?!

I don’t think these things when I buy two drinks at dinner. I don’t think these things when I wander through Target. Our lifetime of consumerism has smoothed that road.

The only way to transform my thinking is slowly. Every time I buy something I will ask if it is worth to me what it could buy for someone else. For an 8 year-old who arrived in America from Somalia three months ago and is four grades behind and needs after school help to make it through school. For a new mom’s second chance after deciding she no longer wants addiction to rule her life. For a physically handicapped child who was left on the street in India, but found a loving home in a small, struggling orphanage.

This takes some fun out of retail therapy. Believe you me. When you start thinking about your money as tools for someone else’s life to be better or the world to be safer, you’re life will be different. And more difficult. We’ll be working for change instead of talking about it, and that has never been easy.

You can also not think about it at all. Recurring donations are a thing now and you can take your 10%, allocate toward your organizations, and lump it in with your bills.

Step 3: Cough It Up

There are organizations doing the most important work and they could not exist without individual donations, large and small. I’m not writing this to make anyone feel bad. There are those who are in the red (I was there a couple of years ago) and I’m not asking for that sacrifice. I’m writing this because without my own wakeup call, I could have gone years without understanding the empowerment of giving.

We have to take care of each other. No one else is going to do it for us. If I’m going to claim to be good a person on Facebook by being knowledgeable about an issue, I’m going to make sure that my life looks just a tiny bit different because of this heavy knowledge. Don’t buy wine at dinner that one night. Or keep the purse you have for another year. This is what we have been asked to do by people much wiser than us. Let’s keep trying to go in that direction.

After all, we won the lottery. We are not entitled to that new coat or fancy car. We were simply lucky to have been born into a family who lived in a safe place, with English as our first language, and enough food to keep our brains churning.

It’s time to give. Not just at Christmas or when it’s asked of us in public. Every month. Even if you’re going on vacation.

Please.