‘Tis the season for giving. The holidays have a way of opening our hearts and our wallets, don’t they?
It’s billed as a magical time of the year and charitable giving becomes a tradition for so many of us. And, let’s be honest, is there a better way to embody the spirit of giving than to choose a needy child’s wish list from a tree that’s displayed in our favorite store?
I know a lot of people who buy for children in this program, making it as big a part of their holiday tradition as hanging lights and decorating the tree. I also know a lot of the kids whose wants and desires are written on a tag and placed on the branches of these trees, and I know what a blessing these trees are to the families.
We’re angels when we shop for these children, or at least that’s implied. Anonymous shoppers buying for anonymous less fortunate children; it’s the perfect way to give, playing into the magic of Santa, and warms our hearts…
Or does it?
How many times have you been a part of a conversation that has gone a little something like this: “I was looking at those tags on that giving tree because I figured I would pick something up while I was there, and I couldn’t believe the things they said they wanted! I mean, Xbox games? Why would you even waste your money on one of those things if you couldn’t afford the games to go with it? One girl wanted an iTunes card! If her parents can afford an Iphone then they don’t need to be on the tree in the first place. I bought her some pajamas and socks because I know my kids always needed those. I can’t believe the nerve of some people!”
Sound or feel familiar? Now, I’m sure I’ve just pissed a few of you off, and if you’re one of the few, take a deep breath and track with me. I want to explain something to you, so take a breath and hear me out, okay?
Kids are kids. Poor kids and middle-class kids, poor kids and wealthy kids; they’re all kids.
And kids want things. They want the same things as their peers. They want the “normal” things, regardless of their socioeconomic status. And my lived experience tells me that most of the things on that wish list were truly that- a child’s wish. They probably know in their heart of hearts that they’re not going to get Xbox games, but that doesn’t mean that they stop wanting them. And it doesn’t mean they should be given pajamas and socks in their place.
Poor kids have the same right to dream of the same things that non-poor kids do, but we’re so quick to judge. We’re quick to say things like, “If you have to put your kid’s name on a tree then you should ask for things they need,” which oftentimes accompanies this thought, and I know it’s been said, “I’m not buying anything for this kid that their parents can bring back or sell for the money.”
There’s this tightly held belief that everyone who needs financial help is screwing the system. If your son or grandson or nephew asked for Xbox games, would you assume it was so his parents could sell them? If your niece asked for an iTunes card, would you tell her parents to buy it since they could afford the phone? Would you buy her socks and underwear instead?
If you don’t believe that kids who are less fortunate deserve to be excited and have something to open on Christmas Day that they can’t wait to tell their friends about, then maybe you should write a check to the non-profit instead and not take on the title of “angel.” And to be clear, I’m not saying that you should feel obligated to buy those expensive gifts, but would it hurt to look at the age and then shop to find something that would bring the child joy that slightly resembles their wish list?
Would it hurt to gift them items that wouldn’t leave them feeling like all the magic of the season flew right by them, reducing their Christmas worth to socks and underwear?
I am going out on a limb here and stating that I do not know one child who is living in poverty because of something that child did or didn’t do. And all the judgment in the world isn’t going to change poverty; only a shift in policy is going to do that. But we need to decide which side we’re on, folks.
Either we’re do-gooders or we’re good doers, and perpetuating judgments and stereotypes is not helpful. It’s the season of miracles, we’re told, so let the miracle start working. Educate yourself about poverty.
Stop treating poverty as if it’s a character defect, especially when it comes to kids. Stretch your world view to increase your empathy. And don’t claim to be a charitable angel if your halo is shining so brightly that it dims the light of those around you.