This week, Jewish Teen Funders Network released an incredible resource, “The Aftermath and Recovery: Superstorm Sandy” to help teen philanthropy foundations talk about how to effectively respond to disaster. 

The guide includes “initial information about the extent and effects of Superstorm Sandy, which hit the New York Metropolitan area on October 29, 2012, tips for effective grantmaking after a natural disaster and links to educational materials and Jewish texts related to disaster relief,” as described in the Network’s newsletter announcing the resource.

We here at American Jewish World Service are proud to have resources from Where Do You Give? included in the guide. We hope that they will be valuable for anyone who wants to get involved.

Thank you to Jewish Teen Funders Network for this wonderful resource!

Steve Lippman, a staff writer for the publication, featured American Jewish World Service and our Where Do You Give? Tzedakah Curriculum, as pioneers in a new movement to reinvigorate tzedakah and tzedakah education in the American Jewish community.

We want to publicly applaud our very own Lisa Exler, Senior Program Officer and lead author of the curriculum, for acknowledging that “American Jews are generous contributors and have more options for giving tzedakah than ever before, requiring them to make choices about where to give,” she says of the AJWS initiative. “We hope to help people be more thoughtful and intentional about giving, so that their contributions reflect their values and respond to real need. By engaging people in thinking about where to give, we hope to inspire them to increase how much they give.”

Other people in the tzedakah education community, worry that tzedakah as been “assimilated out” of many American Jews, and are “a part of [Jewish] life that disappeared.”

But we know that’s not the case! Giving tzedakah today is more important than ever, and our over 550 educators who have downlaoded our curriculum know it. American Jews are generous, and they want their tzedakah to reflect their values. Our curriculum helps American Jews young and old to do just that. 

So read the article, and then use our Where Do You Give? Tzedakah Curriculum in your schools, summer camps, synagogues and homes. Let’s reimagine the way we think about giving!

The New Center for Arts and Culture and Temple Israel are proud to host Where Do You Give? in Boston, MA!

Winning designs from the Where Do You Give? National Design Competition will be on display at Temple Israel from October 10 – December 30, 2012.

There will be an opening reception on October 10, alongside New Center for Arts and Culture’s public program, “Counting on the Jewish Voter?” with CNN’s Bill Schneider and NY Times political analyst Nate Silver.

Stay tuned for more info on visiting the exhibit and upcoming Where Do You Give? public programs in the Boston area! You can make sure you’re the first to hear about everything by signing up at the top of this page.

If you have any questions, please contact Sasha Feldstein at sfeldstein@ajws.org.

Where Do YOU Give?

Maybe you’ve heard about Where Do You Give? but you want to hear more of what it’s all about.

Maybe you’re an educator who lives in the Los Angeles area and you’re always looking for new resources.

Whatever your reason, if you live in LA and want to change the way your community thinks about giving, then you should DEFINITELY join us on October 10th and 11th when we’ll be bring the Where Do You Give? Education Forum to you!

Co-hosted by the BJE Los Angeles, Congregation Or Ami and Leo Baeck Temple, our Education Forum will give you all the tools you need to bring tzedakah to life with your school, congregation, summer camp, youth group or family!

Registration is FREE but please RSVP by October 1.

See you there!

One of the best ways to do that is through tzedakah—by talking about it, teaching about it and especially by giving it! The Year in Giving: Connecting Tzedakah to the Cycle of the Jewish Holidays explains the thematic connections between tzedakah and each Jewish holiday and suggests specific social justice issues and tzedakah projects that you can do with your community, no matter what age group or setting.  Whether you decide to use it for one or all of the holidays this year, we hope that in this time of reflection we can all take a moment to give with our hearts, our heads and our hands.

On behalf of the Where Do You Give? team and all of us at American Jewish World Service, Shana Tova Umetukah!

• One of our Grand Prize Winners, Dough Burnett, traveled with us to Uganda to meet with our grantee partners on the ground.

• On June 20, we hosted “Giving by Design: Celebrating New Tools for Inspired Philanthropy” at the 92YTribeca to kick off our national exhibit. Learn how to bring the exhibit to your community!

• On August 1, we released our Where Do You Give? Tzedakah Curriculum for Hebrew schools, day schools and other educational communities. So far, over 400 educators across the country have decided to bring tzedakah to life with our great resource! Get the curriculum now.

With all of the great stuff that happened this summer, we’re excited to kick the school year off right with you. There’s lots to look forward to!

Over 400 educators across the country have already downloaded our curriculum, and you can join them. It takes about 30 seconds and it’s FREE!

Already registered? Help us reach our goal! By the end of 2012, we intend to secure commitments from at least 500 schools nationwide to use the curriculum this academic year, and we would greatly appreciate your help in spreading the word. Will you help us reach our goal? There are three easy ways that you can help:

1. We will be sending out a short survey in the coming months to see who’s using it and to get feedback. We hope that you will fill it out! In the meantime, let us know if there is any way that we can support you. We hope that you’ll be able to use our curriculum with your community this year!

2. Tell your friends to go to www.WhereDoYouGive.org/education-portal today to get our curriculum for free! Send a blurb to your networks and listserv (blurb below)

3. Tweet and Post about us (samples below)

As you head back to school, we hope that you will consider engaging your community in this important initiative. Stay tuned for opportunities to network with educators who are using the curriculum this year and as always, let us know if there is any way that we can help make sure that your community is involved!

Thank you in advance and have a great start to your year!

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Sample Blurb:
New, free curriculum from AJWS!
Today, American Jewish World Service released its first-ever school curriculum, called Where Do You Give? A Tzedakah Curriculum. Their goal is to get 500 schools to commit to using the curriculum this year, and I encourage you and your community to count yourselves among the first cohort. I’ll be using it with my community and it’s a great resource!
The curriculum is innovative and interactive and challenges students to think carefully and intentionally about tzedakah.  It’s designed for middle school students but can certainly be adapted for older students as well.  AJWS also partnered with the Jewish Teen Funders Network and Babaganewz to create excellent resources. You can receive the full curriculum free at http://wheredoyougive.org/ If yo.u have any questions, please email their project manager directly at sfeldstein@ajws.org. 

Tweet: Pls RT: Jewish Educator? @AJWS has the perfect new tzedakah curriculum for you! http://bit.ly/PeBC8n #WDYGCurric

Facebook: AJWS’s Where Do You Give? Curriculum is finally here! Join me in bringing tzedakah to life with their groundbreaking new resource! http://bit.ly/PeBC8n

According to this analysis, here are 5 findings from the study that may surprise you:

The rich aren’t the most generous. Middle-class Amer­i­cans give a far bigger share of their discretionary income to charities than the rich. Households that earn $50,000 to $75,000 give an average of 7.6 percent of their discretionary income to charity, compared with an average of 4.2 percent for people who make $100,000 or more. In the Washington metropolitan area, for example, low- and middle-income communities like Suitland, Md., and Capitol Heights, Md., donate a much bigger share of discretionary income than do wealthier communities like Bethesda, Md., and McLean, Va.

The 1 percent really are different. Rich people who live in neighborhoods with many other wealthy people give a smaller share of their incomes to charity than rich people who live in more economically diverse communities. When people making more than $200,000 a year account for more than 40 percent of the taxpayers in a ZIP code, the wealthy residents give an average of 2.8 percent of discretionary income to charity, compared with an average of 4.2 percent for all itemizers earning $200,000 or more.

Red states are more generous than blue states. The eight states where residents gave the highest share of income to charity went for John McCain in 2008. The seven-lowest ranking states supported Barack Obama.

Tax incentives matter. State policies that promote giving can make a significant difference. At least 13 states now offer special tax benefits to charity donors. In Arizona, charities are reaping more than $100-million annually from a series of tax credits adopted in recent years.

Religion has a big influence on giving patterns. Regions of the country that are deeply religious are more generous than those that are not. Two of the top nine states—Utah and Idaho—have high numbers of Mormon residents, who have a tradition of tithing at least 10 percent of their income to the church. The remaining states in the top nine are all in the Bible Belt.

It’s interesting to note that the study did not look at “religious states” according to Judaism. Perhaps eJewishPhilanthropy can help us out with that…

What about this study surprised you? Do you think you are more or less “generous” than your state? Your tax bracket? Your zip code?

Image courtesy of The Chronicle of Philanthropy

Getting the Tzedakah Curriculum is completely FREE at our new Education Portal.

Head over to our Education Portal now to:
• Empower communities to claim their own tzedakah priorities in connection with contemporary issues that matter to them
• Be on the cutting edge by integrating social media with Jewish text, history, culture and values
• Get the tools that work with flexible resources to meet your community’s specific needs
• Create lasting change by bringing young voices into a national conversation about tzedakah

Are you read? Get the curriculum now!

Let’s make some real decisions about money. Created in partnership with the Jewish Teen Funders Network, we are proud to bring youMaking it Real: Guiding Students Through a Tzedakah Allocations Process. This wonderful resources provides the framework, activities and resources to facilitate a process for students to allocate money they have raised for tzedakah. 

Engaging students with the resource is undoubtedly time well spent. Through this resource you’ll empower students to:
1. Bring learning about tzedakah to life.
2. Experience the impact of their giving and learn firsthand about the myriad factors and decisions that are part of impactful giving.
3. Develop decision-making skills.
4. Develop negotiation and teambuilding skills.
5. Develop communication, presentation and math skills.

As with our entire curriculum and all of our supplementary resources, getting this resource is completely FREE at our new Education Portal.

Where has your community decided to give in the past? How were the decisions made? Tell us below!

Tzedakah Taking Root: A Guide to Building a Culture of Tzedakah gives you the tools you need to embed the values of thoughtful and intentional tzedakah in your entire community - not just your classroom or giving circle.

As with our entire curriculum and all of our supplementary resources, getting this resource is completely FREE at our new Education Portal.

What does a tzedakah culture look like in your community? How would you like to bring it to the next level? Tell us below, and be sure to let us know what you think of our new resource!

It has been a true pleasure to watch this project grow from a little design competition to a nationally-distributed curriculum (a BIG thank-you and shout-out to those who have already downloaded—I hope you’re enjoying!). My first project here at WDYG was promoting the June 20 Giving by Design event, a gallery opening that turned into an exciting celebration of giving and the communities in which we do so. I then moved on to the design of the curriculum and website (which you may notice, has a new look!), and am privileged to finish up with the opportunity to share this phenomenal resource with my friends and networks in the Jewish education world.

The educators that worked on this curriculum, and staff that developed the mobile tour put endless amounts of passion and thoughtfulness into this work. The curriculum is a labor of not only love, but also of hope, for a new energy and conversation around giving in the Jewish community. These materials are meant to support both formal and informal programming in whatever type of setting you’d like: day school, religious school, camp, youth group, Hillel, community centers, etc. I encourage you to read through, take it apart and put it back together. These resources really can work for you.

I encourage you also to consider the questions behind what Where Do You Give?‘s curriculum asks. Because WDYG is not just a competition, an event, or even just a curriculum: it is a philosophy and a prayer—that giving continue to remain a cornerstone of the Jewish experience in a way that is thoughtful, intentional, compatible with our 21st-century lifestyles and values. And WDYG is a community—of people engaged in the same conversations, issues and lessons as you, of the next generation of givers who want to do it in a meaningful way that makes sense to them.

In my first post, I wrote about how Where Do You Give? asks us new kinds of questions around giving: instead of “what” (the question grew up with), “where.” Throughout my internship this summer (as with any meaningful educational experience) I have not gained more answers, but questions. In addition to how (and yes, even what) we give, I have learned to ask: if, which, when, why, and of course, ultimately, where.

However, this deluge does not intimidate me. Having sat with these new questions, discussed them with my colleagues, seen them expressed through art, debated them with my intern class at AJWS and pondered them through Jewish texts in the materials of our curriculum, I feel more empowered and excited than ever to take them on. I’m entering my senior year of college, after all, and will soon be entering a new universe of obligation as an income-earning adult. Questions that once paralyzed me no longer do, nor do I feel distant disdain at the idea that money can change the world (read AJWS President Ruth Messinger’s thoughts on that here). Instead, I know that money gives us power, and the privilege (in both senses of the word) to do something with that money.

Thank you all for allowing me to share thoughts, articles and project news with you this summer. Thank you for engaging with us, these materials and these questions in more ways I could have imagined. Thank you for welcoming a new voice into the national conversation on tzedakah.

Please continue to share your thoughts, use the resources and tell us what you’re doing with them, and of course—don’t forget to let us know where you’re giving!

All the best, with much gratitude,
Mia

Photo: AJWS Summer Interns lobbying in Washington for Reverse Hunger. That’s me, center left.

The Year In Giving: Connecting Tzedakah to the Cycle of Jewish Holidays is a wonderful resource that gives you several options for how to incorporate tzedakah giving in your community year-round.

Empower your students to celebrate the Jewish holidays with a focus on tzedakah!

As with our entire curriculum and all of our supplementary resources, getting this resource is completely FREE at our new Education Portal.

How are you going to integrate tzedakah into your Jewish holidays this year? Tell us below, and be sure to let us know what you think of our new resource!

Today, American Jewish World Service released its first-ever school curriculum, entitled Where Do You Give? A Tzedakah Curriculum. A Tzedakah Curriculum is filled with original, innovative and interactive materials that challenge students to think carefully and intentionally about tzedakah. We really do think this is going to change the way the Jewish community thinks about giving, and we’re so thrilled to be able to share it with you!

AJWS’s first-ever school curriculum will allow educators to:
• Empower communities to claim their own tzedakah priorities in connection with contemporary issues that matter to them
• Be on the cutting edge by integrating social media with Jewish text, history, culture and values
• Get the tools that work with flexible resources to meet your community’s specific needs
• Create lasting change by bringing young voices into a national conversation about tzedakah

Getting the Tzedakah Curriculum is completely FREE at our new Education Portal.

We hope you enjoy and can’t wait to hear from all of you about our wonderful new resource! Let us know what you think in the comments!

I’ve been hearing the word “tzedakah” my entire life. And I bet if you’re also part of a Jewish community—formal or informal, for years or just recently—then you’ve heard the word too. Jews love to toss around this term, and we use it to refer to so many different things: giving money, donating our time to a project, caring for others, community action, even cause advocacy. But what does tzedakah really mean?

Let’s take a look at the definitions below, found in our Where Do You Give? Tzedakah Curriculum:

I’m not sure about you, but that definition of tzedakah is definitely different from the one I grew up with—and one that raises a lot of questions:
—Given that the word tzedakah is closely related to tzedek, and tzedakah is therefore closely related to justice or fairness, then do all causes and issues we support by giving money qualify as tzedakah? Why or why not?
—What is the difference between tzedakah and charity? How are they similar?
—Why does it matter that tzedakah is an obligation or commandment, rather than a voluntary action? What does that mean for us and for our community?

I’m still wrestling with a lot of these questions, and I hope you’ll join me in that discussion. Share your thoughts in the comments below! And on Wednesday, August 1, download the curriculum for FREE, and invite your community to talk about these issues and join all of us the national tzedakah conversation!

After months of hard work and dedication from our staff, partners and sponsors, Where Do You Give? is proud to announce (drummroll please…)

Our Tzedakah Curriculum will be available for free download, this Wednesday, August 1!

We’re hugely excited to share this with all of you, and welcome educators and their communities across the country into the national tzedakah conversation. So excited, in fact, that we just couldn’t keep it to ourselves. Over the next two days, we’ll be sharing with you some of our favorite snippets from the curriculum, and we invite YOU to join the conversation and let us know what you think!

The first is a video from our Get Inspired archive called “100 People”. This inspiring video steps back before the question of “where,” and challenges us to ask: Why do we give tzedakah? Or, more aptly,  why is there a need to give? Check it out:

After I first watched this video, I was struck by the simplicity of the message: We are not equal around the world. While some of us have the resources they need to live healthy and safe lives, many more do not.

What do you think of the idea of being one in 100? Did you find it inspiring? Disheartening? What surprised you, and what moved you to want to act? Let us know in the comments below!

The event was only part of a two-day-long celebration. What did we do, who did we talk to, and how did we celebrate the competition that sparked a new kind of conversation about philanthropy? Let’s find out.

Tuesday

Two of our competition winners – Lily Feinberg and Michael Cohn Moreau, along with Michael’s wife Elizabeth – arrived in New York from Nashville and Washington, D.C (as our third winner, Doug, was still in Uganda with Global Circle). They spent the day touring New York, and then joined the Where Do You Give? Team – Sasha, Mia, Stephanie and Miri – for dinner on the Upper West Side. The few hours we spent together, chowing down on unmatched and delicious vegan fare were some of the most exciting and enlightening of this project. We talked giving, art, family history, city life, and just about everything in between.

Wednesday

Today’s the day! We kicked off the morning by welcoming Lily, Michael and Elizabeth to our office, where they enjoyed some authentic New York bagels and learned more about AJWS as an organization, its work and its mission. They met with members of our Executive team, including Robert Bank and Aaron Dorfman and made some really exciting connections for the future. We were so glad to see the conversation continue with these talented artists!

After, we were joined by over 30 AJWS staff members for a brown bag lunch, where Michael and Lily presented their designs and staff members had the opportunity to ask the artists questions firsthand.

After finishing up their NY Tourist List, we all headed down to 92YTribeca where the fun began!

Giving by Design kicked off with wine, hors d’oeuvres, and some exciting conversation (what it’s all about!).

We watched a a special video message from Doug Burnett, aforementioned Grand Prize winner in the tzedakah box category for his “Vending Box,” which he filmed while in Uganda with Global Circle. Our three speakers—Rebecca Stone, former AJWS Development professional and Global Circle Fundraising Chair; Karen Pittleman, author of Resource Generation’s Classified: How to Stop Hiding Your Privilege and Use It For Social Change and co-founder of the Chahara Foundation; and Ryan Clifford, a WDYG judge, Faculty Director of the MICA Design Coalition and Associate Director of MICA’s Center for Design Practice were prompted to answer, “What do you hope for the future of philanthropy?” They gave varied and provocative answers that touched on everything from Talmudic scholars to socially conscious design. The conversation then continued among our 90+ guests around our chalkboard wall, art exhibit and new connections made that evening.

See photos of the event here!

The Where Do You Give? exhibit will be traveling over the next year to communities across the country. Want to bring it to your community? Email Sasha Feldstein at sfeldstein@ajws.org for more info!

“Visiting the AJWS office and attending the opening of the Where Do You Give? exhibit were such great experiences. Rarely have I had the opportunity to meet and talk with so many brilliant and creative people. Everyone I met had such a passion for doing good. It was an inspiration that only strengthened my resolve to find my own way to make a difference. I was honored to be a part of it.”
            —Michael Cohn Moreau, Design Competition winner in the Web/Interactive Category

“One of the many amazing aspects of my experience in New York was coming to understand just how far the reaches of Where do you Give? will be, from the publicity and awareness the traveling exhibition will generate to the curriculum AJWS has developed around it. I’m so honored and excited to be a part of this incredible project!”
            —Lily Feinberg, Design Competition winner in the Out of the Box Categoy

Missed the Event?
Don’t worry—we have plenty of photos to show you. Click through the slideshow below and you’ll feel like you were there! And stay tuned to find out where the Where Do You Give? design exhibit is going next!

Photos courtesy of Ilana Winter

————————-
A bit more than a week ago, a crispy grasshopper challenged its way down my throat.

With cracking smiles, three teens from Kampala, Uganda handed me strange bug in a bustling street market and said, “Eat. It’s good!” As it turns out, fried grasshopper is not only a Ugandan delicacy but a not-so distant taste cousin to the French fry. Its legs were torn off, sautéed while still alive and had a meaty thorax, head with two empty eyes staring straight back at me. If those eyes could speak, what would they say?

Literally a world apart from that street market, I’m sitting on the French Riviera for a business trip — a place as abject in its luxury as Ugandan slums are in its poverty. It has been a horrific transition. At first I was so depressed I could barely muster a “bonjour”. One week, I was helping children, the next I’m helping myself to another course of cuisine. To make it worse, I looked down at my plate of shrimp, tore off its legs and stared down at the meaty thorax, head and those same two empty eyes staring straight back at me. This time, those eyes were speaking and they said “Why are you here when those incredible Ugandan kids need you?”

I had the opportunity to learn from one thousand loving Ugandan kids at Obim Primary School. I learned how to speak Lango, I sang and got schooled by 10-year-old soccer champions. After a long, sun-soaked game, I casually walked over, picked up a water bottle and started going bottoms up. Suddenly, a visual silence rung though the kids, as if I was the music conductor about to signal the down beat and every child was piqued in position. I immediately remembered how the closest water source was two kilometers away. No matter what every one of those kids were doing at that moment, they all turned and looked fixedly at that water bottle — with two empty eyes now longing, “Why can’t we just have a sip too?”

I got the opportunity to go to Uganda because of the amazing generosity of AJWS through the Where Do You Give? competition. But under the stares of all those kids, I realized something very heavy—the amount gifted to me to go to Uganda matches some of the grants AJWS gives to these world-changing grassroots organizations, a cost that rivaled the amount it would take to build these thousand kids a well. Could my trip really be worth their sacrifice? What about all the other funds we use to raise awareness about poverty, or inspire people to donate? It’s a loan with a heavy interest that we decided to borrow from those kids. In a very real sense, are now in their debt.

Cue the guilt trip, right?

It all sounds so cold. Cold enough to make the French Rivera feel like a frozen prison. But I’m slowly beginning to realize that self mutilation with the whip of luxury accomplishes little more than depression.

Luxury and poverty share the same sky and dirt. I am the same person with the same ability to help no matter which part of that dirt my feet are on. While it is absolutely true that we must donate everything we can, especially until it hurts, the most important part is to always be working toward making a small change for good, no matter where you are or who you are with.

Just last night, my bosses asked me about the trip and before the night was over, I could see something in their eyes too, but this time it was a tear. We talked for hours about what we can do as a company for Uganda. I shared with them things I had learned from all the grantees we visited and the importance of sustainable donations. One boss said “Let’s do this. We are going to make a difference in Uganda.”

We talked about building a new group in the company dedicated to using advertising to do charity work. They even said my business partner and I could be a big part of it. People chimed in about different celebrities and resources they have good ties to that we could leverage. Then, out of the blue, a client walked up and said how they have a lot of money they want to donate and how my company should start leading the industry on charity advertising. It was so exciting!

Basically I am just barely beginning to realize when you’re not with those you want to help, you can joyously be an undercover spy on their behalf because it may be the reason you won the geographic lottery—to benefit those who didn’t.

Whatever happens, I know one thing is for sure. Whether we are here or there—wet eyes can be dried, dry mouths can be wet and longing-eyed kids in the world at least the worth of my ticket to go see them.

Doug’s story was originally seen on the Global Circle website. That post can be found here.

Want to get an inside peak into what our winners did on their NY-vacation? Check out Where Do You Give?‘s (WDYG) Guide to New York below, and share with us inspiration you find for your summer!

WDYG’s Summer guide to New York

Highlights

Bryant Park
Situated behind the New York Public Library is Bryant Park, a well-cultivated retreat that hosts a dizzying schedule of free entertainment during the summer, including the popular Monday night outdoor movies. In the winter, look for an ice skating rink and pop-up shops for the holidays. The park also boasts free wireless access.

The High Line
Opened in 2009, this highly anticipated outdoor park sits on the elevated infrastructure built on Manhattan’s West Side in the 1930s. Today, sumptuous gardens and outdoor sculpture adorn this magnificent walkway, which is also an excellent place to enjoy a view of the Hudson River.
Washington St at Gansevoort St, Meatpacking District. Take A, C, E lines to 14th St (Eighth Ave); L to Eighth Ave (14th St)
thehighline.org, Daily 7am–10pm

Brooklyn Botanic Garden 
This 52-acre park is home to the climate-controlled Steinhardt Conservatory (which houses plant life from three different temperate zones), as well as gardens devoted to fragrances and plants mentioned in Shakespeare’s plays. If you want some fauna to go with your flora, check out the ducks in the picturesque Japanese Hill-and-Pond Garden. Youngsters can make a beeline for the Discovery Garden, frolic in the meadow, hike a nature trail or make friends with a giant faux spider.
990 Washington Ave at President St, Crown Heights, Brooklyn. Take 2, 3 lines to Eastern Pkwy–Brooklyn Museum; 2, 3, 4, 5 to Franklin Ave
bbg.org; Tue–Fri 8am–6pm; Sat, Sun 10am–6pm; $10

Other Fun Things

Metropolitan Museum of Art (free!): 1000 Fifth Ave at E 82nd St. Take 4, 5, 6 lines to 86th St

Museum of Modern Art (MoMA): 11 W 53rd St, (between Fifth and Sixth Aves). Take B, D, F, M lines to 47–50th Sts–Rockefeller Ctr or Take E and M lines to Fifth Ave–53rd St

Museum of Arts and Design: 2 Columbus Circle at Broadway. Take the A, C, B, D and 1 Lines to 59th St–Columbus Circle

Central Park:  Main Entrance at Central Park West and 79th St. (See directions above for Natual History Museum)
– Conservancy Garden: 5th Ave at E 82nd St. Take the 6 line to 103rd St. Take the A, C, J, Z, 1/2/3, 4/5 lines to Fulton St
– Central Park Zoo: Southeast corner of Central Park,, (enter at Fifth Ave at 64th St), Central Park. Take the N, R lines to Fifth Ave—59th St

American Museum of Natural History: Central Park West at W 79th St., Upper West Side. Take B and C lines to 81st St–Museum of Natural History or 1 Line to 79th St

Grand Central Terminal, Main Concourse: 42nd St to 44th St, (between Vanderbilt and Lexington Aves), Midtown East. Take the 4/5/, 7 or S lines to Grand Central

Museum of Jewish Heritage: 36 Battery Place at 1st St., Financial District. Take the 4/5 lines to Bowling Green or the 1 line to South Ferry

Rock Star Karaoke
This quintet (with three backup singers) pounds out sets twice a week. Stadium-rock staples by Creedence, Black Sabbath and—of course—Journey are all on the group’s playlist, but in keeping with the joint’s honky-tonk vibe, we suggest choosing the Stones’ “Dead Flowers” or Johnny Cash’s “Cocaine Blues.” Sign up from 9 to 9:30pm to avoid a wait of up to ten songs. While it’s totally free to belt out a tune, tips for the band are encouraged.
181 Lexington Ave at 31st St, Murray Hill. Take the 6 line to 33rd St (Park Ave South) brotherjimmys.com Mon–Thu 11:30am–midnight; Fri 11:30am–1am; Sat 11am–1am; Sun 11am–midnight
Battery Park, Staten Island Ferry and Elis Island: South St, (at Whitehall St), Battery Park. Take the 1 line downtown to South Ferry

South Street Seaport: 19 Fulton St, (at Front St), Financial District. Take the A, C, J, Z, 1/2/3, 4/5 lines to Fulton St

And since you have to eat….

Restaurants by Neighborhood

Upper West Side :
• Sol Y Sombra (Spanish, $30 and under)—462 Amsterdam Ave at 82nd St.
• Kefi (Greek, Avg. $14)—505 Columbus Ave. at 84th St.
• Sushi Yasaka ($30 and under)—251 W 72nd Street, (between Broadway and West End Ave)
• Rosa Mexicano (Mexican, avg. $20-30)—61 Columbus Ave at 62nd St.
• TJ O’Brian (Irish Pub, avg. $6 —461 Columbus Ave, (at 82nd St)
• Gray’s Papaya (Hot Dogs, Fast Food, Avg. $7)
• Magnolia Bakery (Bakery, Avg. $5)—200 Columbus Ave. at 69th St.
• Big Nick’s (Burgers and Pizza, Under $10)—2175 Broadway at 77th St.
• Celeste (Italian, Pizza, Vegetarian, Avg. $10-20)—502 Amsterdam Ave. between 84th and 85th
• Zabar’s (Deli, Sandwhiches, Café, Bakery, under $10)—2245 Broadway between 80th and 81st

Midtown:
• Ladino Kosher Spanish Tapas (Spanish, Kosher Meat, Avg. $16)—940 8th Avenue between 55th and 56th sts. Take N, Q, R lines to 57th St- 7th Ave. or A, B, C, D, and 1 lines to 59th St- Columbus Circle
• Prosperity Dumpling (Chinese, Avg $6)—46 Eldridge St
• Haru (Sushi, Avg. $35)—205 W 43rd St at 7th Ave.
• Carnegie Deli (Jewish Deli)—854 7th Ave. at 55th St.

Enjoy your summer!

Descriptions via TimeOut New York; Photo via littlewomanlittlehome

The quotes below are taken from an interview, published in Spare Change, of a young woman who ran away from home at the age of 16. Jenny [not her real name] was one of an estimated 1,682,900 homeless and runaway youth in America, according to the Department of Justice. She speaks powerfully about her experience of homelessness and her vision for responding to the problems of homeless youth.

[After I became homeless, I slept for a while inside an unlocked church] “Today, those doors would probably be locked. I was at one point ‘discovered,’ which was my greatest fear, but the person simply put a blanket over me and left without waking me up. Today, society is numbed to homelessness; we are overwhelmed with compassion fatigue and acts of gratuitous kindness seem to be fewer. We avert our eyes from the hand-painted signs and ignore the rattling cups.

Child labor laws were intended as a way to prevent the exploitation of children in sweatshops and factories; they weren’t designed to prohibit teenagers from working in a warm fast-food restaurant. They were never meant to force a 15-year-old into prostitution or drug dealing in order to be able to pay for a safe and legal place to sleep.
Whether or not we agree with Jenny, her story is a powerful reminder of the importance of listening to the voices of those we seek to help when we set out to give tzedakah. Often, what they actually need may be very different from our assumptions about what they want. Certainly, their perspective as people experiencing poverty will be different from our own as people who are not. I believe we can learn a great deal from listening to voices like Jenny’s about how to give tzedakah in the most welcome and most effective way that we could never learn in any other way.

I’d love to hear your responses to this powerful interview in the comments. Some questions I’m thinking about:

• What can we learn from Jenny that we could only learn from someone who had been homeless?

• How does what Jenny asks for compare to what we expect homeless people want or need?

• Why is it especially important to talk to people who face poverty about their lives when we seek to act on their behalf?

My name is Mia, and I’m the new summer intern working at Where Do You Give? I’m so excited to be here!

I thought I’d start by telling you a little about myself: I’m originally from northern New Jersey, and about to enter my senior year at the University of Pittsburgh, where I’m studying Communication and Religious Studies, with a minor in French, and most recently spent a fascinating—and tasty—semester in Brussels. Prior to coming to AJWS, I’ve interned at Hillel International in Washington, D.C.; for the New York office of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, at the Jewish National Fund and for the Brussels-based European Youth Forum. My areas of expertise are social media, event planning and marketing, and education communications.

Coming from the non-profit Jewish world, I couldn’t help but be familiar with AJWS’s work. And growing up in a Jewish home, the concept of tzedakah, and the responsibility to give, was familiar to me: from the ubiquitous Jewish National Fund (JNF) blue box to supporting friends running in the Susan G Komen Race for the Cure. The questions was never “whether you give?”, but rather “what do you give?”

But the question that this project is built on—“Where do you give?”—was a new one for me. By asking “where,” and not “what,” or “how much,” we shift the focus of the action of giving. We move the spotlight from the giving itself, whether it is money, time or energy, and shine it onto the recipient, the result of our giving. In so doing, we bring to the forefront of our consciousness our reason, our impetus for the giving. When we ask “Where do you give?” we allow ourselves to take a moment and reflect on why we are doing this act of tzedek (justice) in the first place, and what or who we care about enough in this world to give to. I can’t wait to start exploring this question with all of you.

And I’m going to begin by doing it next week at Giving by Design: Celebrating New Tools for Inspired Philanthropy, where we’re kicking off a national exhibit of the finalists’ pieces from our national design competition that started it all. The celebratory evening co-presented by 92YTribeca is on June 20th from 7-9pm, and will feature innovative art and inspired discussion around the future of philanthropy. Join me to hear from the judges, meet the artists, and of course—enjoy some good food and wine!

June 20 is only a week and a half away, so don’t wait to RSVP by clicking here! And while you’re at it, why not check out our Facebook Event or retweet our latest post on Twitter.

I’m looking forward to a summer of thoughtful discussion, social media adventures, and of course, hearing from all of you. If you want to share your thoughts on “where do you give?” or ask any questions about the event, give me a shout-out in the comments below. Happy giving!

This post was originally published by Pursue: Action for a Just World.

On June 20, Pursuers will join AJWS and Global Circle to see the winning entries from the Where Do You Give? National Design Competition and engage with innovative speakers about giving in the 21st century. As a preview to the event, we asked speaker Karen Pittelman to share her personal approach to giving. Read the interview below and click here to see Karen’s full bio and register for the event.

How did you first become involved in issues of philanthropy and privilege?

I was in college when I realized that if I truly believed that the distribution of wealth was unjust, I had to do something about my three million dollar trust fund. After a long process with my family, at 25 I was able to gain control over the trust and dissolve it to form the Chahara Foundation. I worked together with a group of amazing women activists, lead by Chahara’s director Deahdra Butler Henderson, to establish the fund. Then I transitioned out and transferred all decision-making power over to them. To me what was most important was not redistributing the money but redistributing the power over the money. Over the course of nine years, ending in 2008 when the board finished spending down, the fund gave grants to grassroots groups in Boston led by and for, in the foundation’s words, “women and girls who have known poverty and may still be intimate with its ravages… in their endeavors to reshape community to allow for a higher economic, creative and spiritual quality of life.”

Around the same time that I was trying to set up the foundation, I went to a workshop led by the Kensington Welfare Rights Union. It was the first time anyone had ever said to me: yes, being an ally is great, but if you come from a privileged background, what we really need you to do is organize where you come from. I hated that idea–there was so much I wanted to run away from in the privileged world I came from!–but it also hit me right in the gut, and I knew that it was the truth. That’s how I first got involved with Resource Generation, whose mission is to organize young people with wealth to leverage resources and privilege for social change. I’ve been doing that organizing work in one way or another for the last eleven years, and I probably will be for life! I believe that when people with privilege tell the truth about their lives, it’s important proof that the deck is stacked in favor of the few, and that if we want a more just society, we must demand a more just distribution of wealth.

What advice do you have for people with class privilege who want to use it to make change?

Make a life-long commitment to grappling with that privilege and the ways you’ve been trained to use it. Class privilege, like any other privilege, is not designed to make change. It’s meant to keep the status quo and the unjust distribution of resources firmly in place. Good intentions are important, but they’re not enough–you’re voiding the manufacturer’s warranty on some very heavy machinery here. Without deep attention and committed dialogue about the ways those of us with privilege have been taught to be in the world, we will inevitably wind up re-entrenching the very structures we hope to challenge.

But don’t let all this stop you from taking action! Yes, it’s gonna be hard and scary and messy, but that’s ok. In fact, that’s how you’ll know you’re on the right track–what we’ve been taught is comfortable is exactly what we need to question. Support the leadership of those who are most affected by oppression–let go of the idea that you know best or that you need to be in charge of something new. Stay open to listening and learning from your mistakes, and be tolerant of the mistakes of those around you. Bring your full self to the table–tell the truth about where you’re coming from not because you feel guilty about it, but because it’s part of your story, part of who you are and why you’re there in the first place. Be in community with other people with privilege so we can challenge our class patterns together. And remember that change is slow work, and that it may look very different from what we’ve been trained, as people with privilege, to expect.

How do your Jewish values relate to your work?

I’ve always felt most connected to prophetic Judaism, to the idea that it is both a spiritual practice and a spiritual obligation to fight injustice, and I am continually inspired by the long legacy of radical Jews. My friend Ezra Nepon just published a book about the New Jewish Agenda, Justice, Justice Shall You Pursue, and it blows me away how much I don’t know about the work of the generation before mine, and how much there is to learn from it. My first job out of college was as a researcher for the Jewish Women’s Archive, and I spent a good chunk of that time buried in the library with the papers of Bella Abzug. It was the same year I was struggling to get control over my trust to form the Chahara Foundation, and grounding myself in the tradition of bold, radical Jewish women like Bella became a deep source of strength for me. Also, I can’t talk about bold, Jewish women without mentioning my grandma Toots who, even in her late nineties, is still a formidable presence, and taught me both how to make a mean tzimmes and that I shouldn’t shy away from a struggle.

What are you most excited about for the Giving By Design event?

It’s always exciting to me when people come together to challenge themselves not only to give more but to examine how they give. I love the tradition of the tzedakah box, the idea of a communal obligation to care for all who need care, and I’m looking forward to seeing all the innovative ways these artists have explored that concept.

Earlier this year AJWS launched the Where Do you Give? National Design Competition, challenging artists to create new vehicles for giving tzedakah that reflect our increasingly interconnected, global and technologically accelerated world.

Philanthropy doesn’t look like it used to in our parent’s day. Not only are there infinite amount of organizations to choose from, donations have moved beyond snail mail and checks and have even entered the mobile world.

So, how do you know where to give and how to give? The world is quite your oyster, but join us on June 20 at the 92YTribeca as we kick off the national exhibit of the winning designs from the competition and discuss what it means to give in the 21st century!

Click here to learn more about the event and RSVP.

It’s time to announce our Grand Prize Winners! Not to mention our Student Track Winners and some Honorable Mentions who we just had to recognize for their amazing work.

Make sure to congratulate them in the comments below!!!

GRAND PRIZE WINNERS:
Tzedakah Box Category:
Doug Burnett is an art director from Chicago, Il. His “Vending Box” paints a dystopic picture of our current spending and donor habits. As Doug explains in his artist statement, “We buy a soda without batting an eye but, ironically, we turn a blind eye toward a $1 donation.” After inserting a coin, participants choose a beneficiary. A screen on the back side of the box shows a video of that individual and the benefit he or she will receive as a direct result of the donation. 

Out of the Box Category: 
Lily Feinberg is a graphic designer from Atalnta, GA who currently lives in Washington, D.C.. Her large-scale sculpture functions both as a receptacle for tzedakah and as a catalyst for community engagement in local causes and reflection on the act of giving. The structure physically spells out the word “change,” a word that indicates its contents as well as its ultimate function. The dual meaning of this word prompts tzedakah givers to associate more closely the act of physically giving money to the impact it actually can have.

Web/Interactive Category:
Michael Cohn Moreau is a software engineer from Nashville, TN. Michael’s “Discover Needs” tags are QR codes meant for grocery stores. Shoppers scan the codes to learn about issues that are directly connected to the products they’re buying. For example, a shopper purchasing insect repellant can scan the QR code to learn about malaria in the developing world. Then, the shopper can be immediately directed to learning about organizations that are working to fight malaria, and can choose to donate to that organization right then and there, or save the information to learn more later.

SPECIAL JURY PRIZE:
Sam Holleran is an artist living in New York. His tzedakah box “acknowledges the sometimes tenuous place that charity holds in our lives. While some money will inevitably fall out of this box the vast majority of the coins will cling together due to their mass. This leaves most of the ‘deposit’ intact for the intended recipient of the giving but it also allows for some monies to slip out. The coins that pass through the cracks are not ‘lost’ but volunteered to those who need help but may be too proud to ask. In some cases these may be the very folks who donated in the first place. Just as a family in need is apt to dip into their own piggy bank this design features a built-in safety valve—a way to get money out without breaking the whole.”

HONORABLE MENTION:
Grace Robinson-Leo and Rob Matthews are both graduate students in the Graphic Design Program at Yale University. Their “Charity Plan” uses an online platform for paying your phone bills (something most of us already use) as a way to create a habit and awareness of giving. Mobile phone users choose to pay one cent per minute of these otherwise free calls to charities of their choosing, based on who they are speaking with. For example, a user might choose to donate to a breast cancer charity everytime they talk to their mother. As the designers note, “Talking is our most social interaction. What if it was also socially beneficial? What if the conversations we had about philanthropy were philanthropy?”

STUDENT TRACK WINNERS:
Beth F., age 15 from LaGuardia High School in NY
Ari G. age 16 from Gann Academy in MA
Samantha S. age 16 from Great Valley High School in PA

WDYG: What is your educational and professional background?
LF: I earned my BFA in graphic design from the University of Georgia. I currently work as a graphic designer for the National Building Museum in Washington, DC and am also studying type design.

WDYG: What inspired you to enter our contest?
LF: A friend of mine told me about the contest and encouraged me to submit an idea. I was drawn into the challenge because it prompted me to think about my personal tzedakah habits and consider what might raise my own awareness and involvement in giving. The more I thought about the questions this challenge raised and how to effectively make tzedakah a topic of modern American conversation, I realized how important this contest actually is in reminding people of this important obligation and making it pertinent to their lives.

WDYG: Tell us a little bit about the message you hope to get across through your design.
LF: The ostensible message of this sculpture is the play on words: by giving change, you can affect change in your own community. But I hope the deeper message— raising the visibility of tzedakah as an obligation and awareness of the numerous deserving causes all around us— grounds people to the real impact tzedakah can have and encourages them to incorporate into their lives a commitment to giving.

WDYG: How do you think art can shape or change the way we think and talk about giving?
LF: Art can connect to people through intellect and emotion, and can translate a complex concept into something neat and consumable. In this way, it can speak on multiple levels to all types of people, and hopefully spark reflection, discussion, and action.

WDYG: Who is your favorite artist/designer?
LF: It’s impossible to narrow this down to just one person, so to name a handful: Paul Rand, Louise Fili, Paula Scher, Amando Testa, Matteo Bologna, and Neil Summerour.

The act of charity is a powerful vehicle to make a positive difference in the world. Your money can contribute to saving lives and make an impact on serious problems in our world today. As an intern at AJWS for the grants department I could not help but to wonder what my giving priorities were. I rigorously began evaluating my own impact in the world and started thinking about these questions…

What are the most important things that need to change in order to improve our society and our world? Or simply: Where do I give? Where does my family give?

When I started this think about how to answer these questions I realized I’ve never gave a donation toward anything. Before my involvement at AJWS I haven’t really ever committed to monetary giving due to my financial standing a college student. But it’s not the amount you give that important, it’s the fact you are expressing your values and through giving and you are putting your values into action.

My lack of experience in donating to charity inspired me to be intentional about where I should start giving to. First, I wanted to identify my philanthropy priorities so I asked myself this first question…What are the most important things that need to change in order to improve our society and our world? More recently I have been self educating myself about LGBTI rights and issues around the world, so I’ve decided to focus on this. It saddens me that in some countries homosexuality is considered a crime and LGBTI communities are discriminated against and are denied basic access to health care.

As part as my initiative to donate strategically and work toward making a positive change for a specific cause it was necessary to narrow down my giving options by identifying factors such as relationships and geography of communities I want to impact. My first thought was to help people that I have a connection with so I thought of the Philippines, where my parents and grandparents were born and raised. The Philippines is an impoverished country with many sociopolitical issues and socioeconomic hardships that are important to address. Similar to other developing countries, LGBTI issues are prevalent here as well.  Socioeconomic issues in the Philippines directly affect my family members that currently live there, which makes me passionate about supporting human rights organizations that work in the country.

I’ve decided to give to AJWS’s peer nonprofit organization MaMa Cash which mobilizes recourses for women and girls organizations. The reason I have chosen Mama Cash is not only because their priorities are to address LGBTI issues but they work in the Philippines and unfortunately AJWS does not currently work there. Nonetheless, I have been impressed by both of these organization’s works. 

Asking myself these key questions prompted me to really analyze my perspectives of what I truly care about and what changes I can make by committing to monetary giving. As a college student without a fixed income I was hesitant to give, but after breaking down my giving priorities and observing the value of giving I began to look beyond the amount I am capable of giving. What matters is being passionate about something enough to show your support in any way that you can, whether if that means writing a check, advocating for a cause you care about and want other people to care about,  or just writing a blog about why you’ve decided to give. Today is the day I start my own giving plan and take on my own change making approach to support this causes and organization.

by Sandy Cardin

Ask anyone to name the greatest philanthropists of all time – Jewish or otherwise – and they will invariably identify people known for giving away huge sums of money. From Rockefeller to Rothschild, from Buffet to Blaustein, from Morgan to Montefiore, most of us have come to equate philanthropy with the charitable contributions of people of immense wealth.

And justifiably so; quite recently, much attention has been directed to the nearly 70 high net worth individuals and families in America who have signed the Giving Pledge, publicly declaring their intent to spend hundreds of millions, even billions, of dollars during their lifetime in an effort to help redress the most vexing and complex societal challenges of our day.

The impact of this kind of giving cannot be overstated. When given strategically, effectively and with an eye toward accountability, huge grants have the potential to accelerate the pace of positive change in many situations and even completely ameliorate others.

And yet, philanthropy is not about money alone.

If we turn back the hands of time all the way to the origin of the word “philanthropy,” we discover that it is actually a derivation of the Greek word philanthropos, one that translates into “the love of what it means to be human.”

Put another way, a philanthropist is actually anyone who undertakes to improve the quality of human life and, in turn, to increase the general well-being of humankind. It is the pursuit of tikkun olam – striving to make the world a better place – that renders someone worthy of being called a philanthropist, not the amount of money they spend in that effort.

Indeed, while financial contributions are central to addressing some of the most entrenched challenges the world is now confronting, philanthropy is actually at its best when it combines the giving of both time and money. As we learn in the Talmud, the imperative for Jews to give of themselves derives from the values of chesed (loving-kindness) and tzedakah (justice); gemilut chasadim (acts of loving kindness), however, are actually considered greater than acts of tzedakah because the latter centers solely around money whereas the former can include both money and service.

The giving of time and the giving of money are both essential and worthy endeavors in and of themselves. But they are even more powerful when combined. Together, they can enable us to really understand a particular issue, to build relationships with those affected by it and to create partnerships with those best positioned to achieve substantive change.

Those of us who have the privilege of working in the Jewish world are witnessing the convergence of these two trends: 1) a renewed focus and energy on Jewish giving, both within the foundation world and among new donors; and 2) a heightened spotlight on serving others, especially among young Jewish adults eager to explore their culture, their faith and their ties to Israel.

That is why I am more optimistic than ever about the future of Jewish philanthropy.

A recent study by the Institute of Jewish & Community Research (IJCR), Following the Money: A Look at Jewish Foundation Giving, found that Jewish foundations remain committed to Jewish causes and continue to have an enormous impact on the Jewish world and beyond, despite severe and ongoing economic challenges.

According to the IJCR report, approximately $335 million of the funds distributed by the 56 largest Jewish foundations went to Jewish causes in 2009 and 2010. The study also reports that as the number of foundations in the U.S. increased to 76,545 between 1999 and 2009, an estimated 10,000 of them made grants to Jewish causes.

In this landscape, with the rise of technology and online tools expediting the giving process, new foundations and younger donors are emerging to support both Jewish and universal causes, with contributions to the latter often being a direct expression of the Jewish values of those donors.

Indeed, in a world where anyone can be a donor, young people are increasingly using new channels to give small amounts of money to specific causes to which they feel connected. Though the $5 donors, as they are often called, may seem insignificant now, many nonprofits have had enormous success inspiring them to share causes virally with their vast social networks, as well as building long-term relationships that studies show will result in more giving as the donor ages.
This is key, as it is a harbinger of further involvement and giving. After all, young people are more loyal to relationships than to institutions, and they want to be actively involved in defining the experiences and organizations in which they participate. They have a more holistic definition of success for their lives – one that balances time spent earning with time spent serving.

They also bring a unique skill set to the table – well versed in technology, naturally inclined toward network theory, they can build websites, create videos and use new media tools to maximize awareness of some of our most entrenched challenges.
Jews are among those at the nerve center of this growing movement of young people who do not just want to pay to build the trenches – they actually want to work in them. Passionate about their ability to make a positive impact on the world, they are joining Teach For America in droves, traveling abroad with American Jewish World Service and serving domestically with Avodah.

As a community, we must figure out how to make the most of this convergence of the worlds of time and money. By taking full advantage of human as well as financial capital, we will ensure a stronger Jewish future and deepen our impact on the broader world.

Jewish philanthropy came of age in an era where people expressed their Jewishness in specific ways – by joining a youth group, attending synagogue and giving a donation to their local federation and to Israel. By extension, federations often counted money and gifts received without correlation to people volunteering in the Jewish community, and for a long time that worked well.

In the 21st century, however, Jewish philanthropy will need to reflect the much more multifaceted expressions of Jewish identity. Organizations like Repair the World and Moishe House are leading the way by creating more opportunities for young people to serve, both in a Jewish context and in nonsectarian programs with Jewish framing. They are creating connections and experiences, as well as enabling young givers to contribute in ways that unite their Jewish and universal values, thereby fostering a lifelong commitment to social responsibility.

The landscape is not and will not be without its challenges, of course – an economy that is still causing financial stress and raising issues of sustainability and leverage, less communal giving via federations and the increasingly complicated relationship between Diaspora Jewry and Israel that could impact giving to the Jewish State, to name but a few.

But in thinking about the opportunities and challenges ahead, our focus must remain on how we use the vast network of resources at our disposal to secure a vibrant future for the Jewish people. Indeed, we are blessed to have many passionate, committed individuals, organizations, institutions and funders, each of whom brings a unique set of strengths and relationships that are vital to ensuring this future.

The ideal formula will depend on a generosity of both time and money. As a result, the future Abraham Joshua Heschels, Ruth Messingers and Ralph Goldmans will not just be considered great leaders – they will be considered great philanthropists, and Jewish philanthropy will enjoy the best of both worlds.

Sandy Cardin is president of the Charles and Lynn Schusterman Family Foundation.

Photo courtesy of $PHPhoto

WDYG: What is your educational and professional background?

TB: I am currently a sophomore design student at the University of Washington. Although my focus is achieving a BDes in Industrial Design, I have also been greatly exposed to Visual Communication and Interaction design. Together these grant the abilities to approach any type of problem with confidence and expertise. And I have done so. I have worked on such projects as redesigning parking meters, packaging, product design, and graphic design, and also have a basic knowledge of computer science and structural engineering. I am also a co-founder of Step Design, a new and rapidly growing design firm that is currently involved with rising companies in the Seattle region.

WDYG: What inspired you to enter our contest?

TB:Where Do You Give? was first brought to my attention by my design director. After I did more research on what the competition entitled and the purpose this organization had, it was easy to recognize that I had the ability to make something that could potentially make a great impact on the world. This idea quickly became real to me, and the hours I spent tackling ideas, sketching, and rendering various models became exciting and progressive. I knew that through design, charity could become a more rewarding and interactive experience and that I could develop a system that could lead to great change in the world. I was committed to this project from the beginning.

WDYG: Tell us a little bit about the message you hope to get across through your design.
TB: Right from the start I knew that I wanted to make charity a more interactive experience; to make a stronger connection between people and their donation. Too often, charitable giving goes unnoticed. There is no way for a person to see where that money is going, what it is doing, and whose life it is changing. I began to develop numerous ways to visualize change and to objectify charity. My design became a very simple shape that people could interact with. As they donate money, the object will change and by doing this people are able to see visually the difference that they are making. Without knowing it, I started to realize that this quickly became a way for society to unite over charity. Families at home as well as people in public places could join together and see the change they are making by watching this design change over time. Of course, these were originally just hopes that I had for my design, however I put it to the test. During public voting I created a three-dimensional virtual model of this design; one that changed as people voted. To my surprise, it worked exactly as I had hoped. People were drawn to the appealing shape and interaction and worked daily to try and fill each square.  The unity and connection I had hoped for became real.

WDYG: How do you think art can shape or change the way we think and talk about giving?

TB: Art has been an effective way to share information, thoughts, feelings, and emotions since the beginning of time. More recently I have been involved with the connection people make with art which can be incredibly powerful and stimulating. Art can draw people in to learn more about charity, make them feel for those in need, and reward them. When artistic tools are used in the right way and for the right causes, they can be essential. 

WDYG: Who is your favorite artist/designer?

TB: I have done many research projects and studied a lot about the painter and inventor Leonardo Da Vinci. Still today it amazes me how beyond his time he was and his work, primarily his inventions and designs, has made a big impact on how I think and work today. However, I’d have to say that my favorite artist and designer is my father. He taught me that work in this field is more than just making something new and beautiful. He taught me to work with a passion. The work he has done has inspired me and the devotion to his work and family has defined me.

WDYG: What is your educational and professional background?

FZ: I am an Electronic Engineer with a background in Nanotechnology and Interaction Design, currently pursuing a Master at New York University in Interactive Telecommunications Program (ITP).  Previously I was based in Saudi Arabia for Accenture setting up IT infrastructure and doing technical project management for two of the major Saudi banks. Before this I was working for a design studio in San Francisco on a series of touch screen and gesture recognition technologies. In paralel I have been working for the last 4 years in developing consumer web applications and systems for embedded devices.

WDYG: What inspired you to enter our contest?

FZ: I have been taking a class on interactive telephony at the graduate program I am currently enrolled in. We were working with some technology to connect regular phone calls to a browser window and I realized that there was so much more that could be done by making charitable donations via mobile phone a more fun and playful experience. I wanted to give the donor a chance to be rewarded instantly through the act of giving. After presenting a prototype to the class, I happened to see details about the competition which was so relevant to what I had built.

WDYG: Tell us a little bit about the message you hope to get across through your design.

FZ: I want to make giving via mobile phone a fun and playful experience. The message of Pixels4Poverty is to forge a positive connection between the giver and the organization receiving the money.

WDYG: How do you think art can shape or change the way we think and talk about giving?

FZ: User experience is all about the way a person feels when using a product or service. The way that a donation system is designed and the feedback that is offered through the system can radically change the way a donor feels during and after the act of giving. This in turn can have a dramatic effect on the way that giving is perceived more globally. Pixels4Poverty is an attempt to make the act of giving more more playful and efficient process. I believe that Pixels4Poverty will empower donors to become like artists through the act of giving.

WDYG: Who is your favorite artist/designer?

FZ: It depends on the day and the medium. In this context I would say Gianni Colombo. He tried to transform galleries and museum in interactive performances. His main goal was to disturb the spectators’ apathy.

WDYG: What is your educational and professional background?

KBF: I have a BFA and MFA degrees in Fine Arts. I currently teach in the Integrated Media and Digital Arts areas at the Cleveland Institute of Art.

WDYG: What inspired you to enter our contest?

KBF:I was interested in the unique focus of the contest of how art and design could inspire and encourage people to give to others in need.  I believe that art and design have the potential to create positive change and when I read about the contest I immediately felt like I wanted to create something.

WDYG: Tell us a little bit about the message you hope to get across through your design.

KBF: The Hand + Heart design focuses on how games and the internet can be used to create a place where interaction, discussion, and a community are created that centers around giving to others.  The design includes the main trivia game, but also has a blog, animations, and a sharing section where those who give and those who receive support can share stories about giving.  For a game or website to work well, they need to be dynamic and constantly changing, provide meaningful interaction for users, and have a good interface and design.  Games can be used to bring awareness to issues, to educate, and to entertain and I created Hand + Heart as both a game and website in order to do this. 

WDYG: How do you think art can shape or change the way we think and talk about giving?

KBF: I believe art and design can have a powerful impact on our thoughts and action about giving.  Art has the power to present questions, reframe an idea in a new way, and create new ways for an audience to interact. 

WDYG: Who is your favorite artist/designer?

KBF: This is a tough question since there are a lot of people whose work I admire.  Some top picks: Joseph Bueys, Olafur Eliasson, Kim Abeles, Stefan Sagmeister, MichalRovner, and David Byrne. 

WDYG: What is your educational and professional background?

JW: I received my Master’s in Jewish Education from the Jewish Theological Seminary.  I am a professional Jewish educator and a working artist.  I am currently the education director at Brit Shalom Congregation in State College, Pennsylvania, as well as the owner and lead educator at Jewish Learning Thru Art, which is a traveling Creative Arts Beit Midrash.  I bring Jewish/Arts educational programs to congregations, community organizations, and Jewish educator groups.  I’m also an illustrator—I co-created and illustrated Siddur Mah Tov, a family Shabbat prayer book, and I’m the illustrator of Simply Seder, a family Haggadah, both published by Behrman House. 


WDYG: What inspired you to enter our contest?

JW: A friend told me about the contest.  I was extremely excited about it because it doesn’t just combine my two passions (Judaism and art), it asks the questions that I am continuously pursuing with my students: what does art have to do with Jewish learning?  How can we use art to explore important ideas in a deep and meaningful way? I also love that this contest promotes the American Jewish World Service, whose mission is so vitally important.

WDYG: Tell us a little bit about the message you hope to get across through your design.

JW: This painting, entitled “From Home to Home” is a 36”x48” painting done in acrylic and mixed media collage.  The main concepts behind the painting are sustainable development and interrelatedness.  The background is an image of the world interacting with homes on either side as well as a dominant home at its center.  Careful viewers of this painting will find many images to think about and discuss.  Images such as fresh produce and simple foods, sustainable agriculture and skills such as fishing that allow for self-reliance.  Free trade coffee and a Tree of Life can all be found, alongside, or perhaps stemming from, the traditional tzedakah box. Money flows out from the box and floats throughout the painting.  Alongside the tzedakah box is the smart phone, representing the undeniable way that technology has changed and expanded the role of tzedakah in the modern world.  The dove with the oversize olive branch at the top of the world implies a connection between responsible giving and peace.  The text from Deuteronomy, tzedek tzedek tirdof (Justice, Justice, shall you pursue), and it’s informally translated “Pursue Justice—God” connect this work to the higher ideal of Torah. 
The books, representing either knowledge or Torah elicit the concept from Pirkei Avot:  “Ein kemach, ein Torah”—without flour/bread, there is no Torah –conversely, without Torah, there is no bread. 
Knowledge, Torah, Tzedakah, Food, Justice, Sustainability, Global Awareness—they are all inextricably interconnected. 


WDYG: How do you think art can shape or change the way we think and talk about giving?

JW: I believe the arts have an incredible power to be transformative.  This is true whether we are talking about involving people in the creation of art, or we are talking about sharing ideas in a visual way, and giving people a chance to respond to them.  In our increasingly visual culture, the arts continue to be a powerful way to tell a story, share values, and most importantly, allow our “audience” to bring themselves into the conversation, and respond with their core self.  The arts, more than any other media, allow people to feel, to engage on an emotional level, and to react with their gut before their brain.  The act of giving is a fundamentally human act.  It is about recognizing need, and recognizing the humanity of our neighbors.  This is not simply a rational act, but also an emotional one.  Art can push people to rethink their own boundaries, or recognize a new truth.  Art can push conversations, push thinking, and ultimately, inspire people to act (and give) in new ways. 

WDYG: Who is your favorite artist/designer?

JW: When I was younger I was incredibly inspired by the classics—Picasso, Van Gogh and Chagall.  I still maintain a connection to them, but now, I am inspired by so many artists that it is hard to pin down a single one.  I am inspired by artists who use art to share meaningful ideas, who use vibrant colors and big shapes.  The internet is a great equalizer.  I do not have any formal art training, so I gather inspiration from anywhere I can find it.  If I’m looking for inspiration, I’ll Google a topic and search for images, and find amazing artists who I’d never heard of.  I also love children’s book illustrators. 

WDYG: What is your educational and professional background?

MCM: I have a bachelor’s degree in Computer Science and English and I recently got accepted to Indiana University’s Masters program in Interaction Design, so I’ll be starting there in August. Professionally, I’m a software engineer, working mostly in the health-care industry. In the past few years I’ve become much more focused on user experience and that’s really where my passion is. I’m a big believer in the idea that software can have a huge impact on health-care both in the quality of patient care and in the cost.

WDYG: What inspired you to enter our competition?

MCM: Indirectly, my fiancee did. She recently converted to Judaism and in order to be supportive, I went along with her to her conversion classes. One of the classes focused on the role of tzedakah and tikkun olam and it really struck a chord with me. I made a pledge to donate to one charity a month and look for opportunities to volunteer. When I stumbled on this contest I thought it was a great way to explore these topics further.

WDYG: Tell us a little bit about the message you hope to get across through your design.

MCM: I guess the central message is that we are not so different from the people we want to help. I think many developing countries, especially in Africa, still have a mythical, “Heart of Darkness” status in a lot of peoples minds and it’s just not true. While most people in the States don’t have the kind of daily struggles some people face in the developing world, ultimately we all have family and friends, dreams and desires, and we all just want the chance to pursue a fulfilling life, whatever form that may take.

WDYG: How do you think art can shape or change the way we think and talk about giving?

MCM: Art has the ability to create emotional connections that facts and statistics cannot. Logically you can know and understand a problem in detail but if you do not connect with that problem on a deeper level, than you will not act upon it. There is a danger in inundating people with negative imagery (it’s ultimately self-defeating when people feel like nothing they do matters) but art can act as a persuasive motivator and as an argument for a cause.

WDYG: Who is your favorite artist/designer?

Johnathan Singer Sargent. There is something about his paintings that strike me full force, not in the sense of provoking a reaction but in their pure, unadulterated beauty. His technical skill and ability to draw your eye is unmatched.

Check out our submission gallery to view all of the Finalists across our three categories: Tzedakah Box, Web/Interactive and Out of the Box.

Where Do You Give? Finalists will receive $250 and will have their designs featured in a national exhibit, which will kick off in NYC this summer!

All of the over 70 submissions that we received were excellent, which made judging very difficult. However, our esteemed judging panel was proud to come to a decision about our Finalists. Please join us in congratulating them!

Stay tuned! Our Grand Prize Winners will be announced May 15.

Our Finalists are…

Tzedakah Box
Tyson Brady is an industrial design student from the University of Washington. As donations are made in this “Charity Cube,” a sequence of LED lights advance, providing the user with a visual display of the impact they have made. As more people provide charity, the design will become more complete. It is meant to be a beautiful way of objectifying charity and can be displayed in homes and public places as an icon for the importance of giving.

Rachel Kanter is an artist from Montclair, NJ. Her “Tzedakah Bag” is made from vintage silk tallitot, batik fabric from Ghana and commercial cotton fabric, to serve as “a tactile reminder that our obligation is to support and nourish communities here in the United States, in developing countries and in the rest of the world.”

Doug Burnett is an art director from Chicago, Il. His controversial “Vending Box” paints a dystopic picture of our current spending and donor habits. As Doug explains in his artist statement, “We buy a soda without batting an eye but, ironically, we turn a blind eye toward a $1 donation.” After inserting a coin, participants choose a beneficiary. A screen on the back side of the box shows a video of that individual and the benefit he or she will receive as a direct result of the donation.

Web/Interactive
Frederico Zannier, from Brooklyn, NY, is a graduate student at NYU’s ITP Program. His “Pixels 4 Poverty” project allows individuals to visualize how their contributions are part of a large community effort to make change, by literally painting a picture of the people and organizations that donors are supporting. 

Kristen Baumlier-Faber is an associate professor and artist at the Cleveland Institute of Art. Her interactive game and web platform, “Hand + Heart,” fosters awareness about giving to others in need by teaching users about different issues in the world. Players can earn points which add up into actual money and giving assistance to organizations that members choose.

Michael Cohn Moreau is a software engineer from Nashville, TN. Michael’s “Discover Needs” tags are QR codes meant for grocery stores. Shoppers scan the codes to learn about issues that are directly connected to the products they’re buying. For example, a shopper purchasing insect repellant can scan the QR code to learn about malaria in the developing world. Then, the shopper can be immediately directed to learning about organizations that are working to fight malaria, and can choose to donate to that organization right then and there, or save the information to learn more later.

Out of the Box
Julie Wohl is a Jewish educator and freelance Jewish artist from Duncansville, PA. Her painting, “From Home to Home,” is filled with many complex and layered images that relate to the pursuit of justice through tzedakah, and is designed to have an accompanying curriculum for students to explore tzedakah through art.

Laura Silver, from Brooklyn, NY is a writer and leader of the International Knish Society. Her modern-day communal-baking-session kit includes a shopping list and a manual with play-by-play instructions on how to host a tzedekah-based baking session for five to 500 people. Participants select a local organization to receive the baked goods or proceeds from sales of baked goods.  The activity invites a conversation around deciding where to donate among different charitable organizations.

Lily Feinberg is from Washington, D.C. Her large-scale sculpture functions both as a receptacle for tzedakah and as a catalyst for community engagement in local causes and reflection on the act of giving. The structure physically spells out the word “change,” a word that indicates its contents as well as its ultimate function. The dual meaning of this word prompts tzedakah givers to associate more closely the act of physically giving money to the impact it actually can have.

Thousands of you came to our site from Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, e-mails from your friends and all over the web to pick your favorite designs for the future of giving.

Thank you to everyone who voted for giving your voice to this important competition. Together, we’re truly sparking a national conversation about giving for the 21st century. Meet our People’s Choice finalists below!

If you weren’t chosen for People’s Choice, don’t worry. The judging panel will be getting together soon to pick our other finalists and the Grand Prize Winners!
The People’s Choice finalists are…

Tzedakah Box:
Tyson Brady

Tyson Brady’s light up tzedakah box adds color and light when each person donates. Wonder if it would turn different colors for different colors? Or could the box light up completely once the “box” has reached it’s fundraising goal? What do you think? Tell us by commenting below!

Web/Interactive:
Kbaumlier-faber

Kbaumlier-faber’s website combines game-playing with giving to educate players about different issues and causes around the world and help users earn points that can turn into real giving. What should the games be focused on? Would you play the games to start giving? Tell us what you think.

Out of the Box:
Julie Wohl

Julie Wohl’s painting for the Out of the Box category would be combined with a curriculum to educate young people about giving. What paintings have you seen that have inspired you to give? How can education and art be combined to have a conversation about giving? Comment below!

Please briefly describe your design:

The global inspired sphere can be made of blown milk glass as depicted in the photographs- (however other materials can be used). There can be a slit for coins on the top, under the word, Torah or on top of it. The letters can be engraved or painted/printed directly on the sphere. The bottom of the sphere is flat so that the piece stays in place. The suggested size can be 8 inches, 10 inches, or 12 inches round.

How does your design reimagine the future of giving? How will your design spark a national conversation about the obligation to give, where to give, to whom and why?

The shape of this new Tsedaka box is “out of the box”, a rounded global perspective. There are so many crucial needs; one cannot say where to give because the problems can be geographically in Haiti or New Orleans or Japan or Israel, etc. They can be educational, political and health related, etc. As for whom to give to, the emergency at hand usually determines where the funding must go.

To make these matters clear and succinct I have used the translations of the names of the Five Books of Moses itself as a guide. Therefore the work is called, “The Torah of Giving”; and uses the titles spelled out in the following way: AS A START (Brashis) THE NAMES (Shmos) CALL OUT (Vayikra) FROM THE DESERT (Bamidbar) FOR US TO DO SOMETHING (Dvarim). In this succinct diminutive learning from the titles of the Five Books of Moses, a salient encouragement is deduced.

Please briefly describe your design:

My submission is in the “out of the box” category, and at this point of development, conceptual and exploratory. The work is in the form of photomontage. I am working in a visual poetical manner to embodying the idea of tzedakah via several Jewish mystical concepts including The Tree of Life in the Four Worlds. I will not go into much detail here about these concepts. Briefly, the four worlds include: Atzilut (Emanation/Nearness/Spirit/Fire); Beriah (Creation/Mind/Intellect/Air); Yetzirah (Formation/Heart/Emotion/Water); and Assiyah (Action/World/Earth). The multi-spectral column that is poised centrally in all the images represents the possibility of tzedakah, that it can “happen” at any time in any dimension - from the most phenomenal, tangible, and material to the most numinous, intangible, and immaterial. Let’s consider the idea of six degrees of separation and begin to broaden our awareness that every action made with “tzedakah intention” adds to a concrete expression of tzedakah happening somewhere. Tzedakah becomes the result of a flow and interchange and exchange. So many of the great Chasidic stories show us that we cannot always see or know where “it” comes from. Sometimes, the redemption - the coin - comes from the most unexpected source.

How does your design reimagine the future of giving? How will your design spark a national conversation about the obligation to give, where to give, to whom and why?

What a wonderful exploration to be making at this time in human global history. Finding myself unexpectedly and far from any predictions I would have ever made about my circumstances, I am not in a position to give as substantially as I would prefer in a monetary way, and so to believe in my capacity to be a contributor in this world, I have been revisiting that question in a very personal way.

There is such an emphasis in Judaism on giving, and literally in the Torah there is so much about gold, silver, and copper, and other materials – organic and inorganic of value, and there is also much said about degrees and kinds of giving – the notions of give how much you can, sliding scales, substitution of something else, pay later and someone covers your portion are a few ways giving is introduced in the Torah. Giving can take the form of non-material, non-monetary contribution – intangible forms of giving can be called volunteering, exchange through in-kind service, paying fees in the form of service, extending mental and intellectual creativity to solve problems and inventing the vehicles for the successful giving of others, serving flow and healing in the world through kind thought, word, feeling and deed – these are all forms of active giving.

All in all we can say that when we are in the spirit of giving and contributing without a focus on personal gain but on performance of concrete actions, the locked-in sparks that keep people from feeling whole, well, hopeful, interested, engaged, and satisfied are liberated. This is the core idea of tikkun olam, healing of the world. This is a commitment to the restoration of wholeness and the reparation of the broken vessels, a beautiful concept in mystical Judaism. Tzedakah is an absolute commitment to liberating whatever keeps each and everyone of us from living with joy.

I see the tzedakah “box” more as a blueprint than a literal singular holder of physical money. Yes, there must be a hard cash collection component – for coins, bills, checks, dividends, shares, and written commitments of financial support. And, there are also four other components to this holistic tzedakah “commitment bank” shall we say, a place where we seal our commitment to the contracts and covenants we make. So, in addition to the money slot, we have unpaid work or tzedakah in the mystical four worlds that includes: the slot in the portion that collects all the actions we do with our hands and bodies; and a slot for all the heart, compassion, generosity and mercy that we apply on an emotional and psychological level; a slot in the portion for all of the mind that we exercise to develop and apply knowledge for the design and construction of beneficial concepts, things, places, and systems; and a slot in the portion for all of the spirit that reminds of us that if the Red Sea parted, so too shall whatever obstacles we encounter

Please briefly describe your design:

JChoice .org is focused on engaging the next generation of Jewish youth to learn about the importance of philanthropy and giving in Jewish life by providing an online platform by which to personalize one’s Tzedakah from a Jewish perspective. These “one-to-one” giving opportunities allow a donor to advocate, choose and communicate directly with their “favorite” cause(s) and utilize a social network format with their peers and family.

The JChoice.org social network is similar to the Facebook type platform with a most distinct difference: anonymity and donor data is protected by the creation of a screen name. JChoice members choose how much of their information is shared with their favorite causes. Each “cause page” on JChoice is updated and maintained by the causes themselves, which are classified and cross-referenced based upon their Jewish values.
There are now countless charity websites, but JChoice.org is the only one that provides Jewish values-based educational tools and a free, Jewish values-based, media-enriched, donor advised fund. JChoice.org features a no-cost “pass-through” for allocations. Yes! 100% goes to one’s Jewish cause of choice. Yes! Also note that JChoice causes in Israel, as a rule, comprise 30% of JChoice selections.

How does your design reimagine the future of giving? How will your design spark a national conversation about the obligation to give, where to give, to whom and why?

JChoice.org will empower Jewish youth to consistently give Tzedakah donations throughout their lives, which will have a great impact on Jewish causes. As a result, JChoice.org users will deepen their Jewish connections and commitments, and ultimately strengthen their Jewish identity.

Our overarching goal is to “Make Tzedakah Happen,” which will be measured by the following three broad impact areas in which we aim to accomplish over the next five years:

• Raise $10 million for Jewish organizations.
• Help Jewish organizations become more sustainable
• Expand Jewish identity & Israel support of next generation of Jewish youth

JChoice creates and implements innovative educational programming that make giving through a Jewish lens meaningful and relevant. We have two primary objectives for engaging the next generation of Jewish philanthropy:
• Uniting the Jewish community online
• Engaging communities “on-the-ground” through grassroots, educational efforts.

Recent programmatic initiatives include: the creation of a “Mega-Cause Prototype” for our organizational partners—American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) and Jewish National Fund (JNF); interactive Jewish values pages threaded through causes; creation of a mitzvah project database; and the development of a centralized B’nai Mitzvah Resource.

On-the-ground educational activities include the writing and teaching of original, open source Tzedakah curricula and workshops. JChoice is currently teaching over 1,000 students philanthropic programmatic initiatives at 20 different pilot sites that include: Jewish camps, Hillel alumni, family education lessons at synagogues, day schools and teen giving clubs. JChoice has also partnered with ShalomTV to produce a variety of video productions intended to excite the next generation about Tzedakah.

Please briefly describe your design:

Using universal symbols; a medical cross representing aid, a money sign for monetary donations, a clock for time, and a heart for love, the Tzedakah infographic invites people to engage in conversation about what they give to the places they support.

How does your design reimagine the future of giving? How will your design spark a national conversation about the obligation to give, where to give, to whom and why?

The Tzedakah infographic invites people to look at the future of giving as something beyond simply the donation of money. In a society that is driven by being active participants in charitable causes the infographic invites people to talk about what they give, where they give, and why they give.

In tough economic times giving money isn’t always an option for everyone. Because you can’t give money does not mean you cannot give aid, time, and love. This infographic opens the door to conversation about being a participant in the giving process regardless of financial standing. Some people donate time to tutor at-risk youth after school, others feed the homeless at local shelters, you have doctors who are setting up clinics in third world countries to help fight the spread of disease, aid workers distributing food in malnourished regions, the list goes on.

The Tzedakah infographic looks at the contributions of aid, money, time, and love, singularly and as a whole. When a person is able to afford a monetary contribution to an organization they enable more room for donations of love, time, and aid by themselves and others.

The simplicity of the infographic is meant to cross all cultures and forms of media, as the symbols are recognizable no matter where you are in the world. The infographic can be utilized as a web banner, Facebook Timeline photo, or incorporated into Twitter as a trending topic with the hashtag #WDYG (Where do you give). This will get people engaging in conversation about the places they give, even if they are unfamiliar with the Tzedakah box/message. It will bring global awareness to different organizations, motivations, and obligations for giving.

Please briefly describe your design:

This was fabricated using square tube steel and sheet metal then completely welded including the hinge to create a singular object locked together with a simple pad lock. The prototype will more accept more finishing for a personalized recipient.

How does your design reimagine the future of giving? How will your design spark a national conversation about the obligation to give, where to give, to whom and why?

This design is a contemporary one. It instantly conjures up the modernist spirit that has revolutionized the way we live today. Within the Jewish community we have a long history of charity and benefaction that has its roots in ancient times and the Torah. Charity has largely been based on the few wealthy who give to select causes or recipients in need. A new globalized world lends itself to more creative and dynamic ways of giving.

This tzedakah box is an example of thinking differently. The design expresses a singular nature of giving while allowing for diversity in whom and to what we give. There is no handle to suggest a more intimate connection we should have with the charity process. The overall modernistic design is more relevant and engaging than the classic old world style we often see in synagogues. In collecting charity we often fail to make it compelling and attractive to those we seek money from. Often we lean more on sympathy and compassion.

It is a fundamental paradigm shift to think about the ways we present our charity seeking to those willing to give. This Tzedakah box is only a microcosm of this idea. If a charity box can be made attractive enough to give to because of its beauty and unique qualities, and if it can suggest the multiplicity of opportunity and relationship to giving than how much greater an impact would a large scale re - imagining of how we seek charity for ourselves and others produce.

Photo courtesy of jridgewayphotography

“Charity saves from death” Proverbs 10:2  

I was hurrying to wait.  It would be 4 anxious hours in the hospital waiting room while they sawed open my father’s chest, disconnected his heart, and replaced the plumbing. But I knew that I couldn’t go to the hospital without getting up even earlier to make a donation. 

First and foremost, it was about fighting my sense of powerlessness. All of us, family and friends alike had a lot of nervous energy.  Mom cooked enough to feed an army.  She couldn’t do much to help Dad through the surgery or balance his delicate blood sugar levels, but she certainly could make sure that we would be cared for.  More than anything else, Dad’s survival was in God’s hands.  I davened a lot.  But we also agreed to follow Heschel’s advice and pray with our feet.  Everyone who could donated blood during the surgery.  And of course, “Charity saves from death” (Proverbs 10:2).  Surely, God has more compassion on those who themselves strive to be compassionate.

The Talmud (Shabbat 156a) tells the following story about Rabbi Akiva and his daughter: 

Now, astrologers told him, on the day she enters the bridal chamber a snake will bite her and she will die. He was very worried about this. On that day [of her marriage] she took a brooch [and] stuck it into the wall and by chance it penetrated [sank] into the eye of a serpent. The following morning, when she took it out, the snake came trailing after it. ‘What did you do?’ her father asked her. ‘A poor man came to our door in the evening.’ she replied, ‘and everybody was busy at the banquet, and there was none to attend to him. So I took the portion which was given to me and gave it to him. ‘You have done a good deed,’ said he to her. Thereupon R. Akiba went out and lectured: ‘But charity delivereth from death’: and not [merely] from an unnatural death, but from death itself.

God, suggests this story, follows our cues.  When Rabbi Akiva’s daughter demonstrates her concern for the poor person in need, God feels inspired to treat her in kind.  I’ve always read these stories with a healthy skepticism—miracles are imperceptible in our day, reward and punishment is a primitive way to see the world.  We should surely do good acts for their own sake (as Rabbi Akiva’s daughter does), and not to be saved from death (as Rabbi Akiva or the narrator seems to suggest).  I certainly wasn’t thinking about this story when I got out my credit card.  But when I look back on it, I see my own actions echoed in the story, and I reflect in a more nuanced way on our motives for giving.

On average, bypass surgery in the US only costs around $45,000.  And the insurance company paid for it all.  Still, I was poignantly aware on that day of just how fortunate we were that the cost of this surgery was a non-issue.  I was also aware of just how many other lives we failed to save for a much smaller sum.  It is pointless to feel guilty for our place of privilege, and in this case there was no guilt at all.  My father is worth it—and much more. 

The Mishnah teaches us that whoever saves a single life it is as if he or she has saved an entire world (Sanhedrin 4:5).  I couldn’t have understood it more deeply than I did that day.  And I wanted to make it true for others as well.  I am thankful for the opportunity to give.

Gabriel Bass (@CustomCarving) is an artist and designer who creates synagogue furniture and Judaica for his company, CustomCarving.org

Please briefly describe your design:

A tzedakah box for the 21st century: An easy to use, touch screen, handheld device (similar to an i-phone) passed around a community, religious organization, workspace, or throughout the public sector. This product would function like a kiosk, dedicated solely to encouraging giving and helping people to find an appropriate and responsible charity to build a relationship with. This handheld interactive tzedakah box would be connected to only one website, a continually growing and changing interactive database of trusted organizations in need of support. The organization would research and verify each charity listed. Users would have the opportunity to search charities by recommendations made by previous users or to suggest organizations themselves, thus creating a network of charities most related to the individual user based upon peer responses. Each device would have a physical, social live of its own, related to the individual user.

The device would be attractive, simple to use, and there would be no need for the device to record or store any personal or financial information. Once the appropriate cause has been found, with one click the user can receive more information about the charity or an invoice for a donation sent to directly to their email. This device offers an interactive, exciting, and socially viable solution to the difficulty of finding a dependable charity today.

How does your design reimagine the future of giving? How will your design spark a national conversation about the obligation to give, where to give, to whom and why?

Most people feel an obligation to contribute to those less fortunate, but either do not know which charities are the most reliable or do not take the initiative to make that contribution. The tzedakah box at synagogue is not the place for a large donation and the internet is impersonal. They need the charities to come to them, in a simple, unobtrusive way, from the hands of people they trust. Through this device, within only a few clicks, you will be able to leave your email address with a suitable charity, and then make the actual donation or contact with the organization when and where you are most comfortable.

Imagine receiving such a device from someone who you care about, a colleague at work, or even a stranger on the street. Most people would interact with the device, and even if they do no choose to leave their email address once they found a suitable charity, they will most likely notice a charity which they may be interested in supporting in the future. These devices are fairly affordable to produce today and can be passed around very quickly, so that the entire nation will be exposed within weeks or months of the opening of the campaign. Some devices will be disseminated publicly for exposure, although others will be owned by a neighborhood, religious community, library, university, work space, etc. which will help to encourage its use.

This product is the ultimate combination of physical and virtual communication, which will undoubtedly spark a national conversation about the obligation to give and help to find a suitable charity support and build a lasting relationship with.

Due to our legal constraints the Where Do You Give? Design Competition could only be open to people in the US. However, we received this lovely submission from Dov Abramson and it was so great that we decided to put it on our blog—check it out!

כי יהיה בך אביון… פתוח תפתח את ידך לו והעבט תעביטנו די מחסורו אשר יחסר לו‪

“When any of your brothers is poor… open up your hand generously, and extend to him any credit he needs to take care of his wants.”  (Deuteronomy 15:7-8)

“Open Up (‘Patoach Tiftach’)” is an infographic installation designed to depict the comparative wealth of the world’s countries. Each of the 194 countries of the world is represented by one transparent glass box, containing an amount of marbles that represents its Gross National Product.

The transparency of the boxes allows intriguing near-interactions between the various countries and societies: developing countries looking up at wealthy ones, well-to-do countries side-by-side, and so forth. The piece even proposes the conceptual visualization of issues such as outsourcing, immigration and wealth distribution.

The potential mobility of wealth and resources, while at first glance seems close at hand - ‘right there’, so to speak - is nonetheless met with walls, albeit transparent ones.

Who has more? Who less? Why? Can this change? Should we be active in re-distributing the marbles ‘fairly’, as on a children’s playground, or do we allow the pieces fall where they may? These are the questions that ‘Open Up’ poses to us all.

Hopefully, ‘Open Up’ will confront its viewers with the current state of global inequality regarding wealth, resources and opportunities. The piece does not preach to a specific solution, but rather enhances the understanding of the present status, thus sparking a conversation: Is change in order? If so, how should we go about making that change? Are these boxes ready to be ‘opened up’?

Dov Abramson is a graphic designer and artist based in Jerusalem. A graduate of Bezalel, Dov has his own studio in Jerusalem where he and his team explore the boundaries of form, text, color and language in Israeli and Jewish Society. The studio combines classic graphic design and branding work for clients such as the Avi Chai Foundation and Gesher, with independent art that deals with Jewish and Israeli identity.
Dov’s work has been on exhibit at the Israel Museum in Jerusalem, and purchased for the permanent collection of the Jewish Museum of New York. His piece “Seeing the Forest through the Trees” is currently showing at the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco as part of the “Do Not Destroy” exhibit.
More at: www.dovabramsonstudio.com.

Photo courtesy of Mykl Roventine

Get ready to tell all of your friends, family and supporters to go to WhereDoYouGive.org and cast their vote for you. Remember, the submission with the most votes in each category automatically becomes a finalist and will be featured in a national exhibit!

On behalf of everyone at Where Do You Give? I want to thank you for contributing your thought, insight and ideas. Together, we’re truly sparking a national conversation about giving. And what better time than now to do so?

Photo courtesy of Jaypeg

On behalf of everyone at Where Do You Give? and American Jewish World Service, thank you!

@mor330
@TalkAboutGiving
@RabbiRuth
@AskBigQs
@LilEditor
@Areyvut
@MitzvahCircle
@SabbathManifest
@JewishPopArt
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Photo Courtesy of John Ashcroft

I wonder what it is about this man that makes him such an effective tzedakah collector.  Is it because, unlike other panhandlers, he is asking on behalf of other people?  Or is it because he taps in to the underlying worry inside many subway passengers:  could I become homeless?

I suspect that the latter reason is more likely.  We all know that fear is a strong motivating factor for many kinds of actions.  It is not surprising that the man on the subway addressed the nervousness among the passengers.  What is surprising – and lovely – is that he helped them turn that anxiety into generosity.

But part of me wondered:  How much would he collect if he appealed to generosity born of a sense of abundance instead of a sense of scarcity?  What if he asked people to consider their blessings, the daily miracles that allowed them to leave their apartments with coats and shoes, get on the subway and have a place to go?  What if he asked them to give because of a full heart of gratitude?

To be honest, I think that approach would fall flat.  We (perhaps especially in New York) are too cynical.  But there is a challenge implicit in this question with significant implications.  We have seen through the last years how scarcity leads to more scarcity.  Can we reverse that downward spiral by putting more gratitude and generosity back into the system? 

This is important because generosity is not limited to money.  When we feel the pressure of not having enough time, attention, creativity or acceptance, it is harder to extend ourselves to others.  In fact, this is one of the most interesting side effects of a regular tzedakah practice.  As we train ourselves to be more generous with our money, we may also become more adept at giving in other areas.

Obviously, not everyone does have enough.  But as Mar Zutra (whose name tellingly means the small or young master) teaches, “Even a poor person who subsists on tzedakah must give tzedakah. (Talmud, Gittin 7b)” Why is that?  Perhaps it is because acting as if we have enough, even for a moment, helps so transform our world that we may no longer have to evoke anxiety to get people to give.

Photo courtesy of TheDanLevy.

PreSchool Emergent Curriculum in Action: The Blessing of a Broken Tzedakah Box

Over the past couple of months, you’ve read about BT PreSchool’s exciting Emergent Curriculum, which allows the students to take the lead in their own education. Here’s a moving example of how even an unexpected mishap can lead to a lifelong lesson about the importance of community and generosity.

“Tzedakah and acts of kindness are the equivalent of all the mitzvot of the Torah” – Jerusalem Talmud, Pe’ah 1:1.

Every day, a tzedakah box sat on the desk in Morah Brenda’s and Morah Emma’s Three Year Old classroom, awaiting the deposits of change from the children.

Then one day…their tzedakah box broke!

This unexpected event sparked one the classroom families— the Moss family— to purchase a new tzedakah box in honor of their daughter Aidee’s 3rd birthday. The Mosses shipped the new box directly to the children at the school, where it would arrive in the mailbox right outside the classroom. The children eagerly check this mailbox daily, since many families and friends send mail to the children there.

Then one day…their new tzedakah box arrived!

The children were elated when they checked the mailbox and found this special package waiting for them. It was time to begin filling their new tzedakah box with shiny coins! As the days went by, the children continued to bring in their tzedakah and fill the box.

Then one day…the box was filled!

As Morah Brenda spilled out the money to show the children all that they had collected, a conversation was sparked! In observing the children’s interest and excitement, Morah Brenda realized this was a tremendous learning opportunity for the budding philanthropists and opened up the floor for discussion.

The results of their conversation were astounding! Each child’s ideas reflected the culture of generosity, community and altruism that each BT teacher works so hard to cultivate in his or her classroom.

Here are some of the children’s ideas:

“We should give it to some family to buy something for Shabbos.”
“We could buy vegetables so they could make the soup.”
“Buy challah.”
“Buy d’vash (honey) for the challah.”
“We could buy a Shabbos book for someone.”

Morah Brenda and Morah Emma were astonished by the depth of the children’s responses and began researching to find an organization that could fulfill the children’s wishes, one that would use the funds to help provide a Shabbat dinner to a family in need. Their tzedakah was given to Ahavas Yisrael Charity Fund.

The two morahs wanted to help the children truly experience the feeling of “giving tzedakah.” So one Friday, Morah Brenda invited the children over to a table she had set up in the classroom, set with a Kiddush cup…but no grape juice; a challah plate and cover…but no challah; and a large pot…with no soup, setting the stage for the dramatic reenactment of “Helping a Family Have a Shabbat Dinner,” by Morah Brenda and Morah Emma’s Three Year old class.

The teachers picked an imma (mother) and abba (father) and Morah Brenda asked them, “Are you ready for Shabbat?”

“I have no vegetables to make my soup,” the class imma replied.

Morah Brenda turned to the boy. “Abba, can you make Kiddush?”

“I don’t have grape juice for Kiddush or challah,” he replied.

And so Morah Brenda gave the kids their tzedakah money and sent them to a grocery store (set up in the classroom) to purchase groceries for their Shabbat family. Each student brought over items to make this family’s Shabbat a special experience, including food and books.

Morah Brenda addressed the imma and abba once again. “Can you make Shabbat now?” Yes, now they could make a real Shabbat, thanks to the generosity of their classmates.

Often, the Shabbat table is set as a reminder of this special, child-initiated experience and to provoke conversation and reflection with the children. And to think…all this would not have happened without a broken tzedakah box and two very responsive and respectful teachers who recognized the blessing of a broken tzedaka box.

This distance – the greater comfort level with “stacking plastic chairs,” to borrow Ilana Kurshan’s phrase, than fixed pews dedicated by long-dead people – suits well the larger anti-establishment sentiment that is imputed to my Jewish generation, and even the anti-establishment attitude towards the funding structures that define Jewish organizational life in the words of some of the leading Jewish voices in the “Occupy” movement. Names affixed on walls, whether in equally sized plaques or in ornate tree-like structures in foyers, are thought to suggest an over-commodification of wealth as a marker of status in Jewish life, a hierarchy that is untoward in communal structures, and a permanence that invariably veers on stagnation.

And then I found myself with my kids on a Sunday morning at a klezmer concert in the Eldridge Street Synagogue – perhaps once a seat of ‘the establishment,’ and now anything but – and marveling at the extraordinary faux marble plaques at the back of the room which chronicle the synagogue’s original builders for posterity. The plaques make an amusing linguistic move, transliterating English words for the category descriptions into Yiddish (rather than using the corresponding Yiddish word.) The category that stood out for me was “Members.”

For these Lower East Side Jews, and in this representation, membership was not an exclusionary or hierarchical category: membership, rather, was an attempt to take ownership of a project that bespoke pride and joy for a community. In other words, and to use the same language that our independent minyan used for our first membership campaign (in spite of some vigorous objections over this very language), membership had no privileges. Membership was merely the mechanism for people to take responsibility for the upkeep of an organization they held dear, and the building that the community held to be sacred. Often cast as a mechanism for exclusion, it was designed for inclusivity of shared values and visions – like Moses in the desert, shouting to those who would listen and follow God’s word, “Whosoever is for God – follow me!”

In this picture, then, a plaque in a wall is but a tiny and insignificant marker, not the enemy of creativity but a pale reflection of the earnest human attempt to concretize into real life and to say thank you to those whose investment in a community – whose belief in a community – far outweighs whatever mechanisms we can use to say thank you.

And in retrospect, the memorial plaque is one of the oldest and most authentic tools in the Jewish toolkit. Before we know historically what Jews actually did in synagogues – for our knowledge of the history of synagogue architecture precedes our certitude of the history of liturgy – we know that Jews wrote or engraved the names of synagogue benefactors on the walls. These writings go back to possibly as early as the 3rd century BCE, in fragments in Greek across the Mediterranean. Plaques suggest a pride of place, an attachment to the ways in which our philanthropic values can sometimes – with good community organizing methods! – translate into institutions that encompass them and that aspire to bring more people under their roofs.

As for me: I’m obsessed now with these plaques, scanning them for the stories they tell and the aspirations they clearly model. I hope that our generations find comparably tactile and evocative ways to showcase and display the ways our values turn into actions.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Muay Thai, it is a Thai martial art similar to kickboxing except you can use your knees and elbows to strike.  When I’m training for a fight, I train for two to three hours a day, six days a week. Training that intensely can take a toll on your body, so I regularly visit an acupuncturist for my aches, pains and overall sanity.

My acupuncturist is amazing. He has a quiet, direct wisdom that immediately touches you. Often in our sessions, we talk about balance. We talk about how to be powerful and aggressive in the ring and the importance of experiencing life with joy, humility and calm outside of it. We talk about being thankful for each day I have to do Muay Thai and how I will understand the day when I can no longer train, when the sport I love so much will slowly fade into the background.

“I think you should wake up every day and think of five things that you’re thankful for,” my acupuncturist said. “It can be anything. Just think about it.”

So I did think about it. But I decided instead of thinking, I would write. I would make a list. I would add to that list daily whenever I felt an urge of thankfulness (which, I quickly realized, is a lot). I decided the list could be serious or funny or ridiculous. Most of all, I wanted it to be real. What do I really care about?

I also decided I would review that list weekly to see if I repeated anything or if there were any trends. And sure enough, there are. Community, relationships (family, friends), food, environment, education and overall well-being were big themes for me.

Here’s a snapshot of my list:

What I’m Thankful For (in no particular order…)
My family
My friends
My health
My job
My bed
My ability to walk
My ability to see
My ability to hear
Public Transportation
Socks
Smiles
Coffee
My nieces
Laughter
Blue sky
My lungs
Bridges
My coat
Cars
Friendship
Steak
Steak
Chok Sabai fight team
My ability to read
Chinatown
Heat
Hot water
Coffee
Sick days
Humor
Rice
Honey
Music
My education
Smart conversation
Bodega breakfast sandwiches
History
Water
Old friends
New Friends
Football
Sunshine
Humor
Breakfast
Being Jewish
Pockets
Sweet Potatoes
Quiet Moments
Random acts of kindness
Public Radio
Light

As you know, Where Do You Give?  launched in 2011 asking us to examine where we give and why. The longer my list gets, the more I think about where I should be giving based on what I’m thankful for, based on what I can no longer take for granted. This list (which is pages long) has helped me articulate my priorities and develop a giving plan for this year.

Based on my list, here are some places I’ve decided to donate to in 2012:

• Services and Advocacy for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Elders (SAGE), because LGBT elders deserve the same access to care and services that my grandparents had.

• Right Rides, because women and LGBTQ individuals deserve a safe ride home, free of gender-based violence and sexual assault.

• The Bronx African American History Project, because we will never know where we’re going unless we know where we’ve been, and this amazing oral history project tells the untold story of the Bronx.

• The Manchester Craftsmans Guild MCG Youth & Arts Program, based in my hometown of Pittsburgh, PA, because they provide innovative programs in arts education (including a free afterschool program for teens from Pittsburgh Public Schools, which I participated in).

• The Greater Pittsburgh Community Food Bank because I am so lucky that I have never gone hungry.

• Planned Parenthood, because they play an crucial role as an advocate and service provider for women around the country.

• The Muay Thai Preservation Project because Muay Thai has forever changed my life and everyone deserves to experience it.

Muay Thai teaches me about myself every single day. It’s taught me discipline, humility, respect, resilience, and love. Today, it taught me about philanthropy.

So if you thought you didn’t have time to submit to the competition, now you do! Time to start reimagining tzedakah for the 21st Century.

Just because the deadline extended though, doesn’t mean you should wait. Submit to the competition now!

Good luck everyone.

Best,

Sasha and the Where Do You Give? Team

The lesson was fantastic, mixing different activities and types of learning, including a physical look at global wealth distribution , examining this cartoon, and studying Jewish texts.  What was so wonderful about this session was how it really got the students thinking. In fact, rather than going on and on about how great I think it is, here are just a few of the things that students said during our discussion. Can’t you just see the wheels turning?!

“It’s not really fair that some people have lots of things and others don’t . . .”

“The Starbucks represents being able to go do fun things everyday . . . most people can’t.”

“It’s unfair that so many people are born into being poor . . .”

“Most people in the world aren’t wealthy . . .”

“I feel guilty that I happen to be born to have a lot of money . . . I shouldn’t have, but I was.”

“10% of the wealth is split up among all the rest of the people!”

“People are trying to make themselves feel better . . . they have a guilty conscience for not doing tzedakah.”

“If they are born into a poor family then it’s not their fault they can’t get out.”

“At first I thought, why don’t [homeless people] get jobs? But if they don’t have a place to shower, how can they get a job?”

“And it’s hard to get by on that money, even if they can get a job sweeping floors.”

“Some poor people do have jobs, but it’s not enough to pay for a house”

“It’s not really your money; G-d is just depositing it with you, like a bank.”

“Maybe I could call the President?”

Unfortunately, this didn’t happen.  I stepped off the plane where my other first-timer friend suddenly felt the urge to jump into a puddle and kiss the rainy street water.  I felt no such urge.  We took a walk to the Western Wall where I feigned amazement but couldn’t quite get my heart to buy into it.  Where was my inherent and inexplicable connection?  Had my leaving the organized Jewish community actually taken away my Jewish identity?
For two weeks, I struggled with these questions – sometimes aloud, sometimes not.  Then one day, amidst my feelings of loss and isolation, we went on a site visit to BINA (http://www.bina.org.il/english), a secular Yeshiva that allows non-religious Jews to explore their Jewish roots through service, philanthropy, and the pursuit of social justice.  As the organization’s leaders spoke, my spirits lifted.  This was something I could get on board with.  A Jewish identity not based on synagogue attendance or a love for Israel, but rather based on a devotion to Tikkun Olam – to repairing the world.  Finally, I had answers.  This was a Jewish identity I connected to.  This was a Jewish identity I actually felt.

After two weeks, I came home feeling proud of my newfound clarity.  In conversation with a colleague I summarized my struggle and beamed as I described how I had found my answer: “I am a Jew because I am fulfilling my obligations to give philanthropically and to fight for global justice!”  I expected a warm smile, perhaps congratulations.  You can imagine my surprise when my colleague smiled and asked, “Do we own these concepts?”  She had a point – if I was giving to charity and pursuing social justice before, why are they suddenly only now expressions of my Jewish identity?  What was I doing before?

So here I am, back at square one, asking all of you out in cyberspace to help me.  What is Jewish philanthropy?  What does a Jewish pursuit of justice look like?  What makes a Jew’s giving different from that of a non-Jew and what makes certain giving “Jewish”? 

I know these questions don’t have easy or straight-forward answers.  And I’m not sure if answers to these questions would even help me in my quest for Jewish identity.  But I figured I’d throw it out there, and if nothing else, at least I could lay all my tsuris on the table.

As parent Jennifer Maulsby explains, “It can be hard for kids to understand what it means to go hungry, but they get what could happen if they didn’t have socks to keep their little toes warm.”* Maulsby runs the New York operation of SocksnUndies, which distributes new socks, undergarments and toiletries to homeless shelters. Their website (socksnundies.org) offers a step-by-step guide for families or classes to organize a sock collection and examine the how’s and why’s of giving. It explains, for example, that issues of warmth and comfort may initially resonate with children, but these conversations may also lead children to understand that we take action in order to help others uphold personal dignity.
     
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel elucidated the confluence of action and spirituality when he inspired us to “pray with our feet.”  When we try to teach our children to pray with their feet, one way we can start is with socks. 

*http://www.socksnundies.org/6_Ways_To_Keep_a_Family_warm_this_winter_Redbook_magazine.pdf

Photo courtesy of bark

NEW YORK (CNNMoney)—President Barack Obama and Oval Office hopefuls Newt Gingrich and Mitt Romney have all released at least one year of tax returns. And they all gave big money to charity.

But their donation patterns differ substantially, and in some cases provide a window into the candidate’s political priorities.

Obama gave $245,075, or 14.2% of his $1.7 million in income to charity in 2010, the only year tax returns are available for all three candidates. Romney donated almost $3 million, or 13.8% of his income, while Gingrich gave $81,133, or 2.6% of his income, to charity.

Compared to peers with similar income, Obama and Romney did far more than most.

“Romney and Obama are very generous charity-wise,” said CharityWatch president Daniel Borochoff. Gingrich is still doing pretty well, but Borochoff said his giving level is “more like an average donor for the income.”

Rick Santorum and Ron Paul have yet to release their tax returns, but here’s a breakdown for the president and the two Republican frontrunners:

Romney
In addition to his 2010 return, Romney has released an estimate for 2011.

The deep-pocketed former Bain executive gave $2.98 million in 2010, and $4.02 million the following year. That works out to 16.4% of his $42.6 million in aggregate income over the two-year period.

“This is a huge percentage of his income,” said Russell James III, a professor who teaches charitable planning at Texas Tech. “But when you look at the number as a percentage of his total assets, it’s not that dramatic.”

Romney, with an estimated net worth between $85 million and $264 million, directed large portions of his donations to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, also known as the Mormon church.

In 2011, the Romney’s gave $2.6 million in cash contributions to the church, and in 2010 they gave $1.5 million.

All Mormons in good standing with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are required to give 10% of their salaries as a tithe.

Borochoff said that as a result of his religious background, Romney comes from “a tradition of generosity.”

“Mormons are generous people with their charity,” Borochoff said. “You don’t have to guess which state gives most per capita. It’s Utah.”

The Romney’s also gave substantial cash and non-cash gifts to their family foundation, called the Tyler Foundation.

In 2010, the foundation—which has assets of $10 million—made donations to the Mormon church, Harvard Business School, City Year, the George W. Bush Library and the Boys and Girls Club of Boston, among others.

James said it is not uncommon for very wealthy individuals to establish foundations, a strategy that gives them more control over how the money is used.

Obama
Obama has released tax returns for at least 11 years, dating back to 2000.

All told, Obama donated 6.3% of his income to charity over the period, which works out to a total of $1.1 million. The pace of those donations has increased in recent years, a trend that mirrors an uptick in the president’s income.

From 2000 to 2004, the Obamas gave around only 1% of their income to charity. From 2005 to 2009, their donations jumped to between 4% and 7% of income, before increasing to 14% in 2010.

After winning the Nobel Peace Prize in 2009, the president requested his $1.4 million in winnings to be donated to various charities, a gift that was not reported as income on his tax returns.

From that prize, the president gave $250,000 to Fisher House, $200,000 to the Clinton-Bush Haiti fund, $125,000 to the United Negro College Fund, $125,000 to the Appalachian Leadership and Education Foundation, among others.

In recent years, Obama has spread his donations around, giving to groups as diverse as the American Red Cross, the University of Hawaii foundation, the National AIDS Fund and the Greater New Orleans Foundation.

Gingrich
Gingrich has released only one year of tax returns so far this election cycle, which makes it difficult to determine how the former speaker’s charitable habits have changed over time.

According to his 2010 return, he gave $81,133 to charity while earning $3.2 million in income.

It’s mostly unclear which organizations he donated to.

The only obvious one: Gingrich and his wife Callista donated $9,540 to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington.

The tax return also shows Callista received $5,918 in income from the church, where she is a member of the choir.

Gingrich, who donated 2.6% of his income to charity, is pretty much in line with his millionaire peers when it comes to charitable giving, according to Borochoff and James.

And while Obama and Romney appear to be even more generous, it’s difficult to tease out motivations when it comes to charity, especially for politicians.

“It’s a basic psychological reality that if you know several million people are going to be looking at your tax returns, you are going to give more than is typical in the general population,” James said.

Photo courtesy of DonkeyHotey

1. Blended Value
Jed Emerson, Executive Vice President of Strategic Development at ImpactAssets, challenged us to break down the often held but paralyzing idea that we each have two choices in life—“do well or do good”—and there can be no way to do both. Emerson, along with a growing number of people who straddle the financial and philanthropic worlds, believes overlap is powerful and the way to create dynamic, sustainable social change is to explore “blended value”—how we can do well and do good. Emerson describes his idea of “blended value” in this way:

Value is what gets created when investors invest and organizations act to pursue their mission. Traditionally, we have thought of value as being either economic (and created by for-profit companies) or social (and created by nonprofit or non-governmental organizations). What the Blended Value Proposition states is that all organizations, whether for-profit or not, create value that consists of economic, social and environmental value components—and that investors (whether market-rate, charitable or some mix of the two) simultaneously generate all three forms of value through providing capital to organizations.

Essentially, blended value is about socially responsible investing to maximize not only financial returns, but social and environmental ones as well. It is an acknowledgement that, in order to solve the world’s most complex problems, we need a combination, or blend, of strategies to address them. As an organization, grants and programs cannot be the sole vehicle through which we pursue our mission. Our investment portfolio must also reflect our mission and values. “Everyone is looking for the silver bullet,” Emerson said. “But it’s really about finding the silver buckshot. Collectively, we can create sustained change. What’s the broader set of tools that will help us create this change?

Which brings us to…

2. Collective Impact
The idea of “collective impact” is not new, but the buzzword is, and everyone is trying to figure out how to make it happen. In an afternoon breakout session, panelists Carol Thompson Cole (President and CEO, Venture Philanthropy Partners), Doug Bauer (Executive Director, Clark Foundation) and Jeff Edmonson (Managing Director, Strike Network) offered thoughts on the essential components of collective impact. First, backbone organizations—organizations who organize all the moving pieces of the collective impact equation—are the lynchpins to success. Second, collective impact requires a tiered approach to achieve ultimate objectives. Success relies not only on what you do within your organization or collective impact group, but also on cross-sector alignment, including partnerships with government bodies and corporations. What else can funders do? Support “sexy, unpragmatic things,” Doug Bauer said, like general operating support and grantee collaboration. “Allow your grantees to be nimble and creative and not worry about how to keep the lights on.”

But being nimble and creative isn’t just for grantees…

3. Adaptability
All non-profit organizations need be able to adapt to changing trends, capitalize on new opportunities and maintain financial sustainability. How can an organization do this well? Some conference panelists shared their experiences inside their organizations. As Shari Rosenfeld (Vice President International Projects, Sesame Street) reminded everyone, “There’s a tension among collaboration, time and opportunity.” At Sesame Street, they’re moving away from consensus and “trying to provide more autonomy for decision making in the organization,” so they can adapt more rapidly. Sesame Street is also “research driven,” meaning they conduct research constantly to answer the question, “Is our programming delivering on the goals we want to achieve?” Rosenfeld also noted that they are also increasingly using research as a tool for fundraising.

In terms of external partnerships, panelists advised organizations: “Make your partnerships proactive, not reactive. Keep a strong hand on the what (your mission). But the how should be wide open.” In other words, how can an organization be adaptable and maximize its resources, add value, think about collaboration, and stick to its mission? Clearly those of us in the philanthropy sector have our work cut out for us. These discussions are only the beginning.

This post was submitted by Anne Lieberman and Melissa Extein of American Jewish World Service.
Photo courtesy of Marc Wathieu

In eight weeks, my husband and I are moving to Seattle, WA for a new job he recently accepted. Moving across the country is bittersweet for us, as we have made many strong connections and friendships here on the east coast over the past dozen years. Still, we also look forward to this next chapter in our lives and are eager to make solid connections to our new community as well.

As is our custom at year end, we sat down tonight to think about where we will allocate our year’s tzedakah. Last year, our giving was issue-centered—inner city arts programs, nutrition programs for children, women’s empowerment organizations. The physical location of the institution or geographic reach of the non-profit did not matter. This year, however, as we considered the charities to which we would give, we realized that what we really wanted was to start rooting ourselves in our new community by giving financially to it. We thus selected some highly regarded non-profits that operate in the Seattle area on issues that are important to us. By making donations to support organizations in the region that we will soon join, we immediately felt more connected, as if a piece of us was already there.

Rambam, a medieval philosopher and all-around mensch (good guy), understood the strong connection between one’s presence in a community and one’s responsibility to support it financially. He taught, for example, that if you live in a city for thirty days, you must give tzedakah to feed its poor; the longer you live there, the more charitable financial obligations are upon you. Rambam understood tzedakah as more than just dollars and coins; it’s also about what it means to join a community—being responsible for its members and feeling connected through your giving. We took our first step tonight and look forward to what the future brings.

Students generated a list of countries that they had come in contact with that day—by interacting with someone from that country, eating food from that country, wearing clothes made in that country, reading an article about that country, etc.—and the list was quite impressive: Mexico, Israel, Russia, France, Netherlands, Italy, Japan, China, Suriname, Afghanistan, Taiwan, Iraq and Spain.

After generating the list, one student commented on the benefits of these connections: “It’s a good thing that we have all of these cultures around us because it helps us learn more about the world.”

Other students noted that one implication of these connections is that our economy depends on our relationships with so many different countries.

Students then watched a brief video called 100 People and reflected on how privileged their lives are compared to so many others in the world. These conversations are setting the stage for students to explore how tzedakah can be a means of using our privilege to affirm our responsibility for those facing poverty and injustice around the world.

In the spirit of the students’ exploration, I decided to list a few of the countries I’ve interacted with today:
• Trinidad (my children’s nanny’s country of origin)
• China (where my boots and winter coat were made)
• El Salvador (where my shirt was made)
• Mexico (where my pants were made)

What countries have you interacted with today? What are the implications of these interactions?

Want to learn more about the Where Do You Give? Tzedakah Curriculum? Stay tuned for more from Congregation Beth Elohim and sign up now to be the first to know when the curriculum is released to the public!

Years ago, I watched AJWS’ own Aaron Dorfman pose a version of this classic ethical case to a group of high school seniors at Prozdor, Hebrew College’s pluralistic supplementary high school.  Since then, I have posed it to dozens of high school and graduate student classes.  Students’ first instinct is almost always, “jump in the water.”  This typically sets off a flurry of affirming responses, and students describe variations of jumping in to save the babies.  Some will call 911 first (assuming cell reception despite the out of the way location), others might fashion a baby saving device.  Often after some prodding, the group will begin to wonder about the source of the floating babies.  If the scenario included two potential saviors, they muse, they would dispatch one person to find the source while the other saved those coming down the river. 

But with the limited resources of only one savior, students struggle to decide how to allocate her.  They worry that she can save babies for only so long before she tires and perhaps gets swept up by the current herself.  On the flip side, if she goes to staunch the flow, what about the lost babies during that time?  There is also the possibility that, when she reaches the source, she might be outmatched by baby throwers.  Even more babies could drown before another savior happens by the river. 

The elusive ‘perfect’ solution usually drives them totally crazy.  And while they may leave class annoyed with me, they are also thinking in a more nuanced way about the differences between what I will call here ‘social service’ and ‘social change’ philanthropy (while social change seeks to create long-term, systemic change by targeting root causes, social service works to provide aid to those in immediate need).  Most of the students have realized that they are not willing to let the babies drown in the immediate future, nor to let the source of the babies go unchecked.  So they are looking for some kind of compromise solution. 

Luckily for us, while the Jewish community also juggles commitments to the immediate needs of social service and the long-term, systemic problems which require social change, more than one savior happens by.  This allows us to spread out, to divide and conquer.  Perhaps some might work on the root causes of hunger and poverty through advocacy and policy reform, while others ensure that those in need get food and basic necessities today.  Perhaps it means that individuals will split their own resources, for example, spending some ‘upriver’ by educating about healthy relationships and the rest on the ‘riverbanks’ providing shelter and job training for victims of domestic abuse. 

A mandate to ensure a healthy balance between immediate and long term needs, social service provision and social change work seems embedded within Jewish terminology and tradition: tzedakah, tikkun olam, hesed, matanot levyonim, gemilut hasidim.  Each of these terms suggests a different approach to giving, ranging from using one’s time to help another directly to literally repairing the world (Sh’ma: A Journal of Jewish Ideas recently dedicated its October 2011 issue to untangling the linguistic web).  Some organizations integrate these approaches internally; others specialize in either social service or social change. 

I wonder, though, do individuals and the collective American Jewish community strike the right balance between immediate and long term needs? At last count, 12% of all U.S. foundation dollars went toward social change (Foundation Center, 2009) and while the sector is growing, it is growing at a slower pace than total giving.  If this trend holds true within the Jewish sector, are there enough resources to really cure the root causes of day-to-day problems?  If not, then perhaps this is another layer of the ‘Where Do You Give?’ question that each of us is responsible to ask.  Consider looking at your philanthropic giving through this lens, or encourage your organization to assess their allocations with this in mind.  All together, it seems that we can create a Jewish communal system which will simultaneously send sufficient resources upriver to research, educate and advocate for social change, while stationing plenty of brave lifeguards to keep our communities - and those of our local and global neighbors - safe and sound in the meantime. 

Photo courtesy of MelRick

The following is an excerpt from my books, A Guide to Jewish Practice: Tzedaka and A Guide to Jewish Practice: Everyday Living about balancing the prinicple of anonymity with recognizing contributors for their donation:

While anonymous giving is useful when giving directly to individuals, remaining anonymous has value solely for personal spiritual reasons when the gift is going to an organization. That value must be weighed against the value in publicly announcing givers and the size of their gifts. When gifts are announced, generous givers help to set an example that encourages others to give generously. Furthermore, knowing that others will be aware of a gift encourages people to give at a level of which they can be proud. Most people do not want to be seen as doing less than their share. And the positive reinforcement that follows the announcement of a gift encourages the giver to think positively about making future commitments. For all of these reasons, announcing gifts to roganizations is viewed positively by most traditional Jewish sources (e.g., Moshe Isserles, Yoreh Dea 249.13). Providing both verbal and written recognition is helpful, and using one should not exclude the other.

One of the dangers raised by recognizing large givers is that those who do not have major financial means can be under-recognized. It is important to be fair to other givers by taking care to recognize sacrificial giving when it comes from people of modest means as well. In organizational settings, just as important is recognizing those who contribute time and effort. This group is equally essential to organizational success, and ways of honoring volunteers and employees must be sought. Failure to recognize the contributions of others is a form of g’neyvat da’at; it robs them of recognition and appreciation that they have earned.

When honoring givers, the awards for giving should not be so large that they undermine the development of givers who give for the sake of giving. Is is the responsibility of planners to ensure that the recognition of gifts is tasteful and that the recognition does not distract from the purposes for which the gift is given.

Often givers are legitimately induced to give by the nature of a particular project—obtaining a Torah, redecorating a youth lounge or providing scholarships, for example. When the gift is for a specific purpose, the giver’s name or that of a loved one can be associated with the gift by announcement, plaque or name. This may be used as an inducement to make the gift. Once such an association occurs, every effort should be made to ensure that the name of the giver is not lost. When the money is used up, the object is worn out, or circumstances dictate that it no longer be used, care must be taken to handle the change in a way trhat is minimally hurtful to the donor. Often this can involve preserving a plaque at a different location, such as an institutional archive or museum.

How do you feel about being recognized for your contributions? Tell us below!

These days, it happens all the time.  A 13-year old girl, preparing for her bat-mitzvah, sits down with her parents to talk about the mitzvah of giving tzedakah (charity or justice) for the occasion.  The family turns to the internet and identifies a worthy project where they will ask friends and relatives to donate.  With a few keyboard strokes, this family is able to express support for a project of their choice and provide funding for an individual who may live 10,000 miles away.

In today’s world, the opportunity to engage in the work of social change is, literally, at our fingertips.  But, does this newfound accessibility make us better donors?

As Jews, our tradition tells us we are obligated to give tzedakah and also prescribes the best way for that transaction to occur.  The medieval Jewish philosopher Maimonides (a.k.a. Rambam) describes eight degrees of tzedakah, each higher than the next. The highest level is achieved by providing a person in need with the ability to improve their own situation via a loan or an employment opportunity. If this ideal cannot be achieved, Rambam makes anonymity between donor and recipient a priority.

In philanthropy, anonymity has long been considered a virtue – and has always required a third party to execute.  According to Rambam, a donor should have high expectations for the overseer of funds. He advises donors to make sure this intermediary is wise and fair and refers to sages and rabbis as the benchmark. In our time, intermediaries play multiple roles in enabling our philanthropy. In its simplest form, an intermediary fulfills a donor’s wishes. In its most complicated, it navigates the assessment of communal needs alongside donor intent. 

But this triangle between donor, recipient and intermediary is in flux.  The growing connectedness of the world is breaking down the boundaries to information and to one another. The result: donors today have greater independence and exposure to the multitude of society’s challenges, way beyond their immediate neighborhood. Today, tzedakah is a global conversation in a world that is shrinking to the size of a small village.
The question remains: does this access and information actually improve on our ability as donors to address the core needs of the needy? Or does independence give us a false sense of attaining Rambam’s highest levels of tzedakah? 

What is at risk for today’s donors is tunnel vision. Online, a woman looking for a loan to start a grocery store in India has the same opportunity to convey her needs as the neighborhood food pantry looking for donations to stock its shelves.  Most online portals do not offer the perspective on communal needs and priorities that the village “rabbi” once provided. 

For the recipients of funds, this increased connectedness provides both liberty and uncertainty.  Global access to diverse networks and digital tools means that a potential grantee (in the form of organization OR individual) can make a case directly to a greater number of potential supporters.  Online sites like donorschoose.org or kiva.org tend to broker interactions between individuals which mimic Rambam’s highest level of tzedakah—providing loans and investments that further self-sufficiency. 

But, of course, these loans are often only a piece of what’s needed in a community over the long term.  As donations are more targeted, then what often follows is a degradation of income sources that, in the past, have provided repeated, undesignated support. In the Jewish world, this is most palpable among agencies who have been long-time beneficiaries of Jewish Federations’ annual campaigns. These communal funds are giving way to more donor designated project dollars which may erode a once reliable safety net.

Given the opportunities and pitfalls that now face both donor and recipient, the intermediary continues to be of great import—albeit with a different set of roles and responsibilities. With growing exposure to philanthropic opportunities, there is just less appetite for the anonymous donation to the communal fund. In its place, intermediaries are being called upon to play the less directive roles of advocate, network weaver and educator. These new functions should be signature to those looking to advise donors and advocate for communal needs. They serve as a bulwark to the tunnel vision that is a donor’s greatest risk in this new environment. 

In the end, Rambam’s lessons about the primacy of confidentiality, dignity and self-sufficiency, despite our alleged sophistication, continue to challenge donors to be better.  Our connectedness has made the global more immediate yet this can also narrow our outlook on the needs of a community (regardless of how you define the borders of your community).  More than ever, it will be essential for donors to identify a set of trusted advisors who can offer a bird’s eye view on the issues and serve as advocates for those that don’t necessarily come directly into view. The global world is bigger than the medieval village and a bit more complex too.  We best not let our independence compromise our perspective and communal obligation.

Sh** Jews Say About Philanthropy… brought to you by members of the AJWS staff:

“Yes, dear, it has to be in multiples of 18.”

“I shouldn’t talk about it on Shabbos, but…”

“Is it Super Sunday? Again?”

“… and so your Uncle Morrie finally made it to America. And that is why we give money every year to those going through tough times.”

“Why get them something off the registry when we could get them a mezuzah? Everybody needs a mezuzah!”

“It was a good year. I even gave to the temple across the street.”

“Don’t ask me about giving money, I already give plenty. You should see my tax returns. Oy!”

“Rose! Did you know you can donate money right from the computer?”

“Well, I’m no Rothschild, but I can give a little.”

“Shoot… what the hell is 18 times 7?”

“I remember when you just gave to the first meshuge you saw on the street…”

“Why haven’t they deposited the check yet? I sent it yesterday!”

“$100 for tzedakah? In my day, it was only a nickel!”

“Anonymity is the highest level of giving, but I still want my name up at the Met.”

“Do you know how much we paid in synagogue dues this year? And they want donations too?!”

“Mom, that Bar Mitzvah money was for ME, not for tzedakah!”

“You’re a philanthropist? Well, Mr. Philanthropist, have I got a daughter for you!”

“Yes, but who will care for the Jews?”

“It felt good because I knew that I was helping.” (See Daniel, a 4th grade student and burgeoning philanthropist, who interviewed his grandmother here.)

Join the conversation about philanthropy and tzedakah in the 21st century at www.WhereDoYouGive.org. For a chance to win a $2500 cash prize and the opportunity to travel with AJWS, submit a design to the tzedakah box design contest. Only 33 days left to submit an entry!

This post was originally published on the AJWS Global Voices Blog.

And yet it was only this past week that I realized that the park needs me as much as I need it. While googling local activities in honor of MLK Day, I stumbled upon the Central Park Conservancy website and discovered a walking tour of Seneca Village, Manhattan’s first known community of African-American property owners on land that later become part of Central Park. The hour long, volunteer led tour offered fascinating social, political, and domestic insights into Seneca Village’s inhabitants and the challenging conditions under which they worked to build lives and homes for themselves.

At the end of the tour, I learned that the Conservancy, a nonprofit founded in 1980, employs 90 percent of the park’s maintenance operations staff and provides 85 percent of Central Park’s annual budget. According to their website, “Conservancy crews care for 250 acres of lawns, 24,000 trees, 150 acres of lakes and streams and 130 acres of woodlands; maintain 9,000 benches, 26 ballfields and 21 playgrounds.”

I was floored to learn that the Conservancy provides such a huge percentage of the park’s budget and maintenance. I had known that the Conversancy existed but had somehow imagined that the park is supported by some magically abundant city coffers. (I guess I’m not alone there. The Conservancy website notes that there is widespread misconception that tax dollars pay for the preservation and upkeep of the park).

As a child, The Giving Tree was my least favorite of Shel Silverstein’s stories. It is about a tree who gives everything to the little boy she loves; her shade, her apples, even her trunk. It always disturbed me that the boy did not reciprocate. On my walk home from the tour, I couldn’t help but feel a bit like my least favorite protagonist.

Now that I know that the park is funded primarily by people who appreciate and cherish it, I’ve added the Conservancy to my tzedakah list. I’m reminded of the words of Rabbi Nachman of Breslove, “know that each and every blade of grass has its own song…and from the song of the grasses the heart is filled and yearns.” I am proud to support an organization that preserves and conserves natural beauty, community, and history in my extended backyard.

To learn about upcoming events sponsored by the Conservancy see:
http://www.centralparknyc.org/calendar/

Photo courtesy of ZeroOne

Some schools have requested a little bit more time though, so we’re extending the Student Track Submission Deadline to March 26!

We hope that this extension will allow more schools across the country to utilize our Student Track Lesson Plan, a great tool for educators to inspire their students to participate!

Remember, three Student Track winners will be selected to be featured in a national exhibit that will travel across the country from NYC to LA alongside our main competition winners.

Sign up now to submit and you could be one of the lucky three!

Want to learn more about the Student Track competition? Click here to read the rules and register to submit now!

All the best,

The Where Do You Give? Team

To gear up for the launch, the Pursue team spent some time reflecting on their own tzedakah values. Read part one below, and learn more about entering the competition here!

What are your first memories of learning about tzedakah (or philanthropic giving)? What are your first memories of giving money to those in need?

Audrey Sasson, Senior Program Officer for National Campaigns: My first memory was going from class to class in high school with my best friend Tal and asking people to donate to Save the Children. We were known as the Save the Children people because we randomly decided that our friends and peers should donate money there. I have no idea how we picked that particular charity, and it’s not at all what I would pick today, but the instinct to give was there and has been refined since.

Merrill Zack, Associate Director of Education and Community Engagement, AJWS:  I have memories of my dad constantly running off to meetings for Jewish non-profit organizations (usually they were part of the Detroit Federation system) on whose boards he served and of my mom heading off to “women’s lib” meetings (I was born in the early 1970s!) and other activist-type engagements. I understood from their examples that being in service to others was a fundamental part of our family identity (and part of their aspirations for what my individual identity would reflect as well). Like many people, I also have memories of the Sunday school pushke and buying trees and forests for the Jewish National Fund, but I think that it was later in my childhood – middle school, perhaps – that I grasped that in addition to volunteering their time, my parents were also substantially philanthropic with their dollars, and that giving tzedakah was important too, that we reflect our values in many ways out into our community and the larger world. 

Chanel Dubofsky, New York Program Associate: Giving is complicated for me, I think, because I wasn’t raised in a culture of giving. While my mom was focused on cultivating the appearance of having money, it wasn’t seen as practical to be giving to organizations. My main association with Jewish giving was the tzedekah box in Hebrew school, but I don’t think I really thought much about that.

Suzanne Lipkin, Program Officer for Operations: I don’t have vivid formative memories of giving, though I feel it was always part of my life through things like Hebrew school, and I have always known that my parents are yearly donors to many causes.

Rabbi Stephanie Ruskay, Director of Alumni and Community Engagement, AVODAH: One of my earliest memories of tzedakah is participating in Super Sunday, the annual UJA Federation call-a-thon. This was essentially a festival. There was music, food, excitement, socializing, and we’d all come together to raise money for a cause that helped people who needed it. I’m not sure that I really knew what they did, but I learned that day that raising money could be exhilirating and you could have fun while also doing something good. Another memory I have of giving is spearheading a winter coat drive for Bosnian refugees when I was in middle school. I recently found a big posterboard sign I’d made with a rhyming verse about why people should donate their coats to cold refugees. Again, I think I was trying to make the act of giving into somethign that could be fun.

Rachel Gross-Prinz, Program Associate: My first few years trick-or-treating, my parents had me walk around with a UNICEF collection container (think tzedakah box) in order to ask for donations in addition to the usual candy. By the end of the evening, the box always ended up at the bottom of my candy collection container, with only small coins inside. I distinctly remember being embarrassed to ask people for money - somehow candy seemed safer. Eventually I learned about tzedakah at Sunday school: we had a requirement to bring tzedakah to class each week and at the end of the year we voted on where our funds went. I don’t think we had any role in identifying the pool of options and felt frustrated by that.

Erika Davis, Temporary Program Associate: I remember the collection plate at my mother’s Baptist church, feeling a little confused by why we were putting dollar bills in the gold plate and wanting to keep the money rather than give it to something I didn’t understand. I remember giving my time more than I remember giving money. One Christmas in particular, my father took my sister and I to a center that served underprivileged families. There was a Christmas play, much like the play I put on in my own school. After the play we helped give out presents. Each child got about one present. I remember feeling guilty for being there: we always received dozens of presents on Christmas morning, and these kids only got one present.

What’s your first memory of tzedakah? Tell us below!

This post was originally published at Pursue: Action for a Just World.

Photo courtesy of moooster.

Daniel:  You have a large collection of tzedakah boxes, why do you have them?
Jane:  I have a few different examples, each an old one in a different shape, and each to raise money for a different purpose.

D:  What do you love about tzedakah boxes?  What do they mean to you?
J:  Several things - they remind me that when I was a little girl my parents always had a blue and white tzedakah box in the kitchen; and, most important, that part of being Jewish is to think about others who aren’t as lucky, who need help, and try to help.

D:  Do you have a favorite tzedakah box?  Which one and why?
J:  Actually, I do have a favorite.  It’s this big painted black tin one, that is so dented and used.  It came from a synagogue on the Lower East Side in New York City like one that all my grandparents might have belonged to when they came from Russia and Poland to this country.  There is very old masking tape with writing in Hebrew around it that says that the money collected was to be used to buy books, to educate the children.  I love that a group of people, who didn’t have very much themselves, thought it was so important to buy books.

D:  What’s your first memory of learning about or giving tzedakah? 
J:  I remember somebody coming to my house to pick up the full tzedakah box, and giving us an empty one.  The money was going to be sent to Israel - except that it wasn’t ‘Israel’ yet - to plant trees.

D:  What does tzedakah mean to you?
J:  It helps me to remember how lucky I am - my family is - and that I want everyone to be so fortunate.

D:  How do you decide where to give?  What factors and values do use to determine your giving priorities?
J:  Sometimes it is very personal; sometimes there is a disaster and help is needed immediately.

J:  You just did a big fundraiser - can you tell me about it, what you did and what it was for?
D:  I raised money for Sri Lanka by making three lemonade stands, and then six relatives matched the profit.  I also had a lot of help from my brother Adam, family and friends.

J:  What did it feel like to ask people for money? 
D:  I didn’t just ask - at the lemonade stand, I told people that the lemonade was free, but if they wanted to, they could donate money, whatever they could.

J:  Why did you choose the organization you did to give money to?
D:  My Dad went on a work trip to Sri Lanka, and he told me about it, and that they needed money and asked me if I wanted to help raise money.

J:  What did it feel like to give all the money you raised to the organization?
D:  It felt good because I knew that I was helping.

J:  What does giving tzedakah mean to you?  Why is it important?
D:  To me it means raising money and giving it to people who need it.  It’s important because some people don’t have stuff like we do, so I try to help.

Do you talk with your own family members about tzedakah? Tell us below!

Photo courtesy of Daniel’s Dad.

According to literary legend, Ernest Hemingway was challenged to write a story using only six words. He did it: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” The six-word story is a challenge in clarity and brevity, in which we’re asked to distill what are complicated emotions and events into that which is seemingly basic, but powerful. SMITH Magazine has published various books of 6 Word Memoirs, and recently teamed up with the folks from Reboot to invite folks to write six-word memoirs of Jewish identity and life.

There are few topics more perplexing than money, how we use it, access it, think about it and distribute it. This week marks the launch of AJWS’s Where Do You Give? National Design Competition. Where Do You Give? seeks to raise the level of discourse around tzedakah in the American Jewish community and to explore the underlying questions that drive our decisions regarding where to give, to whom and why, and the design competition is aimed at reimagining, literally, the traditional tzedakah box.

To kick off the competition, we asked some of our colleagues at AJWS to come up with their own six-word memoirs on Jewish giving. Without further ado:

So many obligations. Well, give anyway! –Sasha Feldstein

Better to give than to receive. –Erika Davis

No matter where I give: guilt. –Suzanne Lipkin

A giving Jew is a happy Jew. –Ilan Caplan

If only 1% would give 10%. –Sasha Feldstein

Got allowance. Saved, spent, gave tzedakah. –Lisa Exler

Tzedakah. Just do it, Torah says. –Erika Davis

Chosen people: choose your favorite charities! –Ilan Caplan

Value your money. Give some away. –Jessica Soria Korsunsky

End of December? Tzedakah spreadsheet time! –Lisa Exler

Where do I give? Dunno. Sorry. –Ilan Caplan

Put money where your mouth is. –Sasha Feldstein

All of those lattes add up. –Erika Davis

Grocery shopping; cans for food pantry. –Lisa Exler

Radical politics manifest in radical giving. –Chanel Dubofsky

Wanna be a philanthropist? You are. –Ilan Caplan

What’s your Six Word Memoir about Giving? Tell us below!
This article was originally posted at Pursue: Action for a Just World.

Where Do You Give? challenges artists, designers and conceptual thinkers to create an updated vehicle for giving in the 21st century that inspires a national conversation among all of us who seek to engage more deeply with our communities—be they geographic, ethnic, national or other—about where we give, to whom and why.

Reimagine the tzedakah box—an ancient ritual object used to collect money for charitable causes—and you could win $2500, be featured in a national exhibit and have an opportunity to travel internationally to meet with some of AJWS’s grassroots partners.

There are many ways to participate:

• Enter our NATIONAL DESIGN COMPETITION and re-imagine the traditional tzedakah box, whether it be physical, virtual or wholly conceptual. You can win $2500 and a chance to travel with AJWS!

• Tell all of your friends, family, colleagues and followers.

• Upload your own video about philanthropy or offer your own personal memories of giving on our website.

• Learn and teach with our complimentary educational materials.

However you choose to engage with Where Do You Give? I hope that it is meaningful. As always, we would love to hear about it! Please send any feedback, photos and comments to sasha@wheredoyougive.org and we will feature you on our website!

Thank you and all the best,

Sasha and the Where Do You Give? Team

“Would you like to help by giving a donation to our checkout charity?”  The slight edge in the cashier’s otherwise bored voice gave it away.  She wasn’t enjoying her forced fundraiser role any more than I liked saying, “No, thanks.” 

I dashed off my signature, the scrawling indecipherable one I used when making a quick escape.  I shoved my receipt into the bag and made my get-a-way.  At least the kids weren’t there, especially my daughter.  Eva gave all her money away.  She gave away her lunch money, my extra change, and all the cash presents she’d ever received. 

      The other day, Eva asked my son, “How did you get so much money?”  Noah’s been stockpiling ever since his love affair with Monopoly when he was four years old.  He’s incredibly generous, too, but Noah gives of his time.  He’s always willing to lend a hand, especially taking care of little kids.  Noah answered his sister without missing a beat. “I kept the money people gave me.  You gave all yours away.”

    “Oh,” she responded, sounding somewhat surprised.

Eva even started her own fund for a little-known endangered wild Japanese cat, the Iriomote.  After months of raising money, we couldn’t locate a place accepting funds to help them.  We turned to Charity Navigator.  There, she found a small, four-star animal advocacy group with high transparency and accountability scores and low administrative costs.  She emptied her Iriomote fund and added in a birthday present from her grandparents for good measure.

That’s why I was grateful I was standing in the checkout line alone.  I know it would have presented an excellent “teaching moment” for the kids, but I wasn’t in the mood.  Sometimes parenting is like that: you just don’t want to be bothered.  You don’t feel like looking callous, uncaring, and selfish in front of the kids.  At least I hadn’t had to explain myself, not like that poor woman in line behind me. 

Even though I opposed that type of pressured, random checkout giving, I still felt bad.  The times I had said yes and donated, I was left a shameful morning-after feel.  When I had said no, it still felt bad, because no matter what the checkout charity actually was, in my head it always sounded a little like “starving, neglected kids with cancer in a war zone.”  Did I want to help?  Of course I did!  I wanted to help them all, but my tzedakah was planned.  I did careful giving to specific pre-researched organizations, with which I had an on-going relationship.  Still, saying no was woefully unpleasant, especially in public, when I was captive at the check out line.  Hit and run guerilla fund-raising was not a spiritually uplifting adventure.

I did, however, allow myself some planned random giving. Every year before Thanksgiving, my local grocery store put out donation cards for the New Jersey Community Food Bank.  Brightly colored cards, of varying small amounts, patiently perched in an open plastic container.  No one asked, and they spoke for themselves.  I made myself a promise that every time I checked out, I would grab one of these donation cards and add it to my bill.  I chose the amount according to the size of my purchase, reverse tithing.  The more I spent, the more I gave.  I loved the surprised “thanks” from the cashier. 

Though I knew where the money was going, this was still reckless and financially unsound giving.  I had no idea how much I gave over the season, had no record, and could not use the donations as a write-off.  I also ignored the fact that I could not control what was purchased with this money.  A devout vegetarian, I said a silent prayer that no animals would be harmed with of my donation.  My money paid for heat and light, infrastructure costs, I decided.  That way, I always left the check out line smiling. Then I went straight home to brag to my kids. 

Photo courtesy of juicyrai

For me, one of the most important ways I can engage my family and friends in this crucial conversation is to ask them to donate to causes and organizations I believe in. It’s a way to open conversation, share the organizations I love, and a way to support important work more than I would be able to on my own.

The only downside? I find the idea of asking my loved ones for money terrifying.  In an attempt to overcome this fear, I went to the experts – the development department at American Jewish World Service. They shared their top ten tips for fearlessly, and successfully, asking folks to give. Watch and learn!

As my younger brother and I would hastily got out of our mini van to run into our Synagogue for Hebrew school, my mother would stop us. Already arriving ten minutes late, she would purposely stop and hand us two quarters each. This was the Tzedakah we were supposed to give our teachers for that week. This was our ritual every Sunday morning from about first to sixth grade. But as my brother and I got older and time went on, the fifty cents would be forgotten some weeks.

Well some weeks turned into some months, and then it stopped altogether. To be truthful, I didn’t really care that I had ceased handing in that money. That is until a couple of months ago when eleventh grade me realized just how important it was.

Currently I’m member of BBYO. At the beginning of this year one of our officers who is in charge of Judaism and Community service started pushing for members to bring spare change to meetings. She would stress that even one penny found on the sidewalk on the way to the meeting would still help. That reminded me of my younger Hebrew School days. Sure I still forget from time to time, but now I’m trying to make a conscious effort to bring even a few coins to meetings. I know that money isn’t the only form of Tzedakah, there’s also volunteering of time and donation of items. But for me, this tradition brings me back to my roots. Now as my mom, in the same old mini van, drops me off at my local JCC for a meeting and I run out of the car, I ask her to give me my fifty cents for that week.

Did you ever ask your parents for money to give for tzedakah? Did you ever give your children or other family members money for tzedakah? For more stories about giving check out our Get Inspired page!

Photo courtesy of idovermani.

(I’d be remiss if I didn’t add, thanks Mom(!), for making Tzedakah something mandatory, reflexive, and lots of fun.)

Today, however, it’s not quite as simple. Sure, we still have Tzedakah boxes around the apartment that we fill with loose change. But the last time my husband and I made an actual plan for donating Tzedakah (something I’m embarrassed to admit we only did once, and not since I finished graduate school and got a job), it required multiple subway conversations, pro/con lists, and a Google spreadsheet. Admittedly, it did feel pretty great to make donations in excess of 18 or 36 dollars, and to be proactive about our giving, instead of just responding to appeals from friends and family (apparently we know a lot of people who do charity marathons/half-marathons/5Ks). But frankly, it was a lot of work, and the fact that we haven’t done it since, is a sign that maybe it is a bit too much work. For better or worse, we need something easier, or at least could use a bit more guidance.

So tell me, what do you do?

  * Do you base your giving on the calendar year? The fiscal year? Center it around certain Jewish holidays?
  * How do you decide what causes and organizations are worthy causes? Do you differentiate between Tzedakah (to causes that aid the poor and disenfranchised) and philanthropy (supporting other causes)? How do you balance between giving to Jewish and non-Jewish sources?
  * How do you determine how much to give: ten percent? More? Less? Of all your income? Post-taxes? What’s left over after paying for groceries and housing?
  * Do you have a process for making these decisions (I love checklists, so if you have one, tell me about it)? A ritual? Do your choices change every year or have you found some routine?

Posted with permission from Sh’ma (www.shma.com) October 2011—as part of a larger conversation about tzedakah and philanthropy.

Want to learn more about making a giving plan? Check out our new Giving Plan Worksheet to get inspired and start giving!

Photo courtesy of Avital Pinnick

As a public Jewish person, I am asked to speak for a lot of Jewish causes. I feel truly blessed to be able to put the word out there about organizations that do so much to change the world.

Even in my non-celebrity days, though, when I was “just” a graduate student who used to be TV’s Blossom, I was involved in a variety of charity organizations, and believe strongly in advocating for young people to put their money (even if it’s only the money they would spend on one night out drinking) and their passion behind a cause. I even co-founded a young person’s branch of the Jewish Free Loan of Los Angeles to show young people that they, too, can be philanthropists by helping add money to the pot of interest-free loans given out to people of all faiths.

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For me, becoming a parent made me feel connected to other parents in a new and powerful way. The thought of not having money or healthcare or the right to not be discriminated against feels much more significant now that I am a parent, and to imagine that this goes on all over the world every day can be overwhelming. Giving voice to organizations like Na’Amat helps contribute to making small changes for other parents and future generations.

And they need our support. It’s that simple.

Finally, as a person comfortably living in a wealthy country, I often marvel at how much we — I include myself in this — take for granted. A bad year financially for many of us looks like luxury to millions of people all over the world. Budgeting for a new water filter in our kitchens (and dechlorination filters for our bathtubs!) is profoundly disturbing when there are families with no clean water to give a sick child. We can give a little. We can give $5. We can also give $10. And we can give $1. The notion is that philanthropy is financial, yes, but it is also spiritual. It’s not about assuaging guilt; it’s a connection to others through time and space.

“Kol Yisrael arevim zeh la-zeh” means that all Jews–and all people–are responsible for one another. No exceptions. No modifiers. Stand up for something with your money this Hanukkah, be it a big or small donation. Because there is no measure for how great that contribution is: for your soul, for the recipient of what your donation leads to, and for the truly priceless gift of being a part of this great nation of Jews. Let us be a light among the nations any way we can during this Festival of Lights. Chag Hanukkah Sameach.

Photo courtesy of urtica.

Hanukkah provides a wonderful opportunity to engage in both joyful giving and gracious receiving. In my family, we have two favorite ways to approach tzedekah during Hanukkah. The first is our annual toys for tots extravaganza. When our kids were younger, I used to take them out shopping before we lit the candles. Each child would choose a few toys that they thought a kid their age would especially appreciate. Then we would drop the toys off for kids celebrating Christmas whose families would not be able to provide them with gifts that year. We liked the “toys for tots” program because they have many drop off sites. We could bring the toys to collection locations right after purchasing them. There was no risk they would sit in a closet or in my car—they always got where they needed to go.

After delivering the gifts, we came home, lit the hanukkiah, and ate sufganiot. Our Hanukkah celebration was enriched by helping others celebrate their holiday, and the connection felt palpable to our children who had personally selected gifts for other children to enjoy. Today my three children are teenagers, so the nature and shape of this ritual has changed—but we still use Hanukkah as a time to give toys to families who need that help.

Our second favorite Hanukkah tzedakah activity is a dedicated tzedakah night. This is exactly the concept behind the “got gelt” initiative, and it is one we have done for many years.  I know other families who do this, and it is a great thing to do no matter who constitutes your household. The family or group of friends agrees on a sum to give to tzedakah. Everyone comes to candle lighting prepared to advocate for a particular organization or cause. While the candles are burning you can discuss the reasons you want to support the various options on the table. When you come to agreement, you say a blessing, write a check, and bring it immediately out to the mailbox—or go online and click. Like the gift delivery described above, this has always been a crucial step in my own household. The more you can do to immediately actualize your giving, the more you insure that the results get where you want them to go.

Over the years, we have tried lots of ways to make tzedakah part of our Hanukkah celebration. These two had the most staying power, and have become a regular part of our practice. We do give gifts—usually one thing that is lovely and special for each child. We eat lots of fried food. We make sure that we are all together to light candles—even if that is late at night—so we can sit together and watch the brightness enter the world.

Want more ways to incorporate tzedakah into your family Chanukah celebration? Check out Got Gelt? A Conversation about Giving in this Season of Receiving for guided discussions and more!

Photo courtesy of john curley

Before I quit Hebrew school, the blue and white Jewish National Fund box was something I associated with my seemingly wealthy classmates, who regularly deposited money in them . Giving, in spite of what was drilled into our heads by Hebrew school teachers, had nothing to do with me, or my family’s life as Jews. While my mother organized her life as a single parent around cultivating the appearance of having money,  which had mainly to do with wanting to give off the impression that she was not only surviving, but being well appointed.

Years later, as someone whose identity has been informed by the issues of class, I approach giving with some skepticism and discomfort. My inclination is to regard giving as a dismissive act, literally throwing money at a problem and then believing that you’ve done enough, of never having to actually interact with the folks to whom we give money, not having to process the power and privilege that comes with being able to give and then, to walk away.

These days, though, I’m trying to reconsider. The organizations I love, who are doing the truly radical, ruckus starting work, need money to continue. If my goal is actually to reevaluate and redistribute power, then my money needs to support that work. Giving is also a feminist act, in which women exercise power and autonomy over money, pushing past conceptions and tightly held notions about who controls money and therefore the health, welfare and interests of women. Becoming economically and financially literate and ethical allows and empowers women to reorder our lives.

Ultimately, of course (and this is where the challenge to Jewish communities comes in),  we cannot allow financial giving to replace other modes of change making. Giving should be literal in more than one sense-in addition to what we give financially, there should be a sense of challenging ourselves as to how we think about money, privilege, and who gets to have access to a life that is meaningful to them.  As someone who invests in Jewish communities every day of my life, I have to believe that we want to go beyond writing a check, that we are also reaching deeply to make radical change by committing intellectual and emotional energy to the process of deciding where we give and what will come after.

Photo courtesy of Cayusa.

Neither of us is religious.  I grew up in a secular Jewish household, and he grew up going to a Catholic church once a year on Christmas.  But neither of us was ready to abandon our heritage altogether so compromises began.  You can have a Bar Mitzvah if I can have a baptism.  We’ll do Passover at my parents’ place and Easter at yours.  This is all on the surface – we can celebrate both sets of holidays and split traditions easily.  But what will our child believe in?

For me, working at AJWS and on Where Do You Give? helped me navigate this question.  I have learned about parts of Judaism that speak to me in a way that going to synagogue did not.  Concepts of Tzedakah and Tikkun Olam align with my personal values.  Giving to others and pursuing social justice are rules within Judaism that I can and want to follow.  I don’t need my future children to believe in God, to go to synagogue, or to keep kosher; I need them to understand Judaism’s imperative to fulfill your obligation to others.

I brought this answer back to my boyfriend.  “I want our children to believe in the Jewish principles that make me proud to be a Jew – the lessons that teach dignity, respect, and fairness for all.”  To which he responded, “That sounds good to me!”

Little did I know that my family tradition of giving would become a personal passion after a mandatory 7th grade philanthropy project at my Jewish day school.  In class, we learned how to read a budget, send out a request for proposal, and leverage our money. Each of the twenty-seven students had to select an issue and organization they cared about and present it to the group. After fundraising activities and some matching grants from large donors, my class had over $30,000 to allocate to our different non-profits.  Over the course of this yearlong project, something inside of me just “clicked.” For the first time, I was confronted with so many of the world’s problems all at once.  At the same time, I realized that I had the power – in my hands – to help tackle these issues and even save lives.  Maybe I should have felt overwhelmed or terrified, but truthfully, I felt exhilarated and empowered.

The next year I was selected to be a member of the first Peninsula Jewish Community Teen Foundation board and I jumped at the chance to participate. It was the perfect way to put into practice the passion and knowledge I had gained the previous year in school. In just eight meetings, the twenty-one teens and I ran a consensus based foundation that was guided by Jewish values of giving and gave out thousands of dollars in grants.

I found myself on the cutting edge of a new and exciting movement of Jewish youth philanthropy. In the five years after my 7th grade project, I read over 500 grant proposals, allocated hundreds of thousands of dollars, traveled to Uganda on AJWS’ volunteer summer program and most importantly I continually witnessed the tremendous power of a group of young adults determined to change the world. My experiences as a young child faced with tough allocation decisions combined with my constant conversations throughout high school about how to use Jewish values to inform and guide my giving laid a strong framework for my own personal philanthropic focus.

I have spent the last four years of my university career both at Wesleyan University in Connecticut and my year abroad at Oxford studying issues of international development. I have spent extensive time in Uganda, Kenya, Senegal, and Nicaragua and throughout all of this, my giving and approach to aid remains fundamentally based on four key Jewish texts that speak most to me.

Do not let him slip down until he falls completely, for then it will be difficult to raise him; rather strengthen him as he begins to fall. (Rashi, Leviticus 25:35 (cf. Torat Kohanim, Sifre Behar, Chapter 5)

If a poor person comes and asks according to his or her need and the giver cannot afford to give, the giver should give according to his ability….The average way to fulfill this commandment is to give 10% of your wealth. Less than this is considered an evil eye. (Rambam, Laws of the Gifts to the Poor 7:5)

Finally, I am committed to donating 10% of my annual income for the rest of my life. As a result of these four fundamental tenants of my giving, all rooted in Jewish texts, I joined Giving What We Can (www.givingwhatwecan.org) last year by pledging to give at least 10% of my annual income to causes that most effectively fight poverty in developing countries. My commitment to and passion for the tenants of tzedakah and tikkun olam can be traced back to my family’s practice of our annual tzedakah allocations. The causes, organizations, and way I choose to donate may transcend the Jewish community, but the conscious decisions I make in the donation process remain rooted in and informed by my Jewish identity.

It’s a religious school routine, and has been for generations. Before you get out of the car in the carpool line, you hang your head over the front seat and put out your hand.

“I need a dollar.”
“What for?”
“For tzedakah.”

And then, inevitably, the parent opens his or her wallet, fishes out a dollar or any other spare change, and hands it over. Later, as the tzedakah-box gets passed around the classroom, the student is proud to have something to contribute.

Some parents brought this up to me recently as an issue.  They wondered if this request for tzedakah is as meaningful as it could be. Do the kids know where their tzedakah is going? Do they know that tzedakah can take forms other than money? How meaningful is it, really, to ask for a dollar while hanging over the front seat of the car? There must be a better way.

There couldn’t have been a more perfect time of year to begin this conversation. On the brink of Hanukkah, giving is on all of our minds. Without getting too swept up in the frenzy of Black Friday and Cyber Monday, we seek out ways to give meaningful gifts to family and friends.

But of course, gift giving was never the original purpose of Hanukkah: this aspect has been amplified due to Hanukkah’s proximity to Christmas, and increased marketing efforts to consumers like us.

Presents are not a bad thing. It feels good to give to those we love. However, there is room in our tradition for adjustment: to include not only gifts for family and friends, but also gifts to those who are in need. This way, the gifts that we give and receive on Hanukkah become even more impactful when we include gifts of tzedakah.

With the help of the American Jewish World Service (AJWS) and their new educational campaign entitled ‘Where Do You Give?’, we adjusted our Hanukkah Hagigah this year to include an emphasis on tzedakah. Together, parents and children made lists of the gifts that they have in their lives. With everything ranging from ‘X-Box’ and ‘friends,’ to ‘food to eat’ and ‘supportive family,’ it was clear that our community at Temple Emanuel is very blessed. From there, families used the lists that they had made to think about the sorts of gifts that they might be able to help provide for someone else. From volunteering at a soup kitchen to collecting money for an animal shelter, these gifts, our families decided, would be excellent tzedakah opportunities to try during Hanukkah this year.

This conversation began a few weeks ago between the students and teachers in our Religious School regarding the tzedakah that we collect each week. We heard parents say that they didn’t want our tzedakah collection to begin and end with that dollar from the car, and we agreed. This year, our tzedakah collection will go towards a year-long effort, culminating with Big Sunday (a community-wide day of service taking place this year on May 6, 2012). Each of our Religious School classes has chosen a Big Sunday project to support with their tzedakah, and they look forward to the hands-on connection with the tzedakah they have raised in May.

As the year continues and we work hard to raise the level and awareness of our focus on tzedakah in the Religious School, we look forward to seeing the way that parents and teachers will partner together to make more meaning out of that moment in the car.

Perhaps it will begin as our families light their Hanukkah menorahs. AJWS suggests adding the following ritual to your candle lighting and gift giving this year. After saying the traditional Hanukkah candle blessings, consider putting a few coins in the pushke and saying these words:

As we gather by the light of the Hanukkah candles, we are thankful for the many blessings and gifts in our lives. We commit to giving tzedakah so that others may also enjoy these blessings and gifts.

May we continue to have the courage to give generously and the wisdom and patience to give responsibly.

Amen.

Rabbi Sara Mason-Barkin

The night was filled with latkes, pizza and the usual middle school racousness, but when it was time to debate about our giving priorities, minds opened up and the conversation was enlightening (no pun intended).

We focused on the following three questions from our Would You Rather? Game, which you can findright here.

Would you rather give to:

1.
A. An organization that sends doctors to clinics in villages in India to perform surgery and train health workers?
OR
B. A local clinic that provides medical care to low-income residents of your city?

” I think it’s good that they’re sending doctors to people in India and helping out, but if you’re helping in your city it can help all over the place instead of just one place”—Alex

“I think sending doctors to both places is important, but I think we have to help our community, and who we live with”—Sophia

“I think we can help a lot more in India because we have more advanced technology, and there are a lot more people there who would really need help”—Emma

2.
A. An organization that fights hunger by providing people with hot meals at a soup kitchen?
OR
B.An organization that fights hunger by teaching people job skills so that they can get jobs and earn a living?

“I think teaching people job skills is good, but it costs a lot of money to teach all these people, and it is good that you want to teach them, but getting money and all the supplies is harder. Giving meals to other people is much easier. It may not teach them, but it will at least give them warm food.”—Alex

“I guess I agree with you it would buy more food, but really in the long run, this organization would help people more, because let’s say it takes a hundred dollars to train somebody to be able to get a job and everything. So ten people giving ten dollars could help someone get food the rest of their life, while 10 might give someone food for a day. In the long run it would help more people.”—Zoe

3.
A. An organization that provides new sports equipment to children who live in the slums in Kenya?
OR
B. Your friend who is raising money for new uniforms for his/her basketball team?

“Now I’m really starting to realize that not all kids get what we get - we can just go to ASO and get soccer uniforms or go to a store.”—Emily

“I don’t think it should matter what their religious status is. I think it should be who needs it most. If your relative needs help paying, that’s great, but you can’t just do that because you know them.”—Izzi

Now deconstruct away.  How did you arrive at your response?  Did you define it by your own standards?  In relationship to that anonymous, ubiquitous “they,” your peers, neighbors, that cousin you rarely speak to except for when seder is at your sister’s house who made a killing in a start-up social networking site? And did your answer include just the slightest hint of what you thought it should be?

In September the Pew Research Center for People & the Press in partnership with The Washington Post surveyed 1,000 adults on this very topic just days before Rosh Hashanah.  48% of those 1,000 revealed that when push came to shove they would call themselves “haves,” while 34% self-identify as “have nots.”  In 1988, however, only 17% viewed themselves as “have-nots.”

Surely much has happened between now and then that easily could influence our answers.  “Black Monday”—not the day-after-Thanksgiving sales during which generally mild-mannered human beings wrestle one another to the ground for the last XBox 360, but October 19, 1987 when the Dow dropped 508 points in one day. And unfortunately not too far in our rearview mirror, we also have September 29, 2008, when the Dow plummeted 778 points—just hours before Rosh Hashanah, earning the dubious historical distinction as the biggest single point loss ever in one trading day. 

Everything from global protests to televised debates to political promises to day-to-day experiences simply buying a gallon of milk and thinking about how we used to spend “before” and how we spend “now,” has all of us—whether consciously or unconsciously—placing ourselves in these categories: am I a “have” or am I a “have-not?”  And after all that surveying and review of empirical data, the upshot of the study, and the words of those who commissioned and conducting it themselves was this: while perceptions fluctuate in relationship to variables, such as political party affiliation and race, there is no consensus.  The answer is subjective.

Did we need a study to tell us this?  Not likely.  But insofar as the question itself emerges from an economy that remains in ruins, it is a Hanukkah question, as well.   

While public and personal perceptions of what it means to be a “have” or a “have not” may forever fluctuate, Hanukkah offers us a transcendent, objective clarity through the lights themselves.

The 12th century physician, rabbi, legal scholar, and overall Swiss Army knife of Jewish life, Maimonides (the Rambam), makes it rather simple for us to possess clear-cut definitions of what it means to be a “have” and a “have not.”

According to the Rambam, a “have” is someone who:

1) Has enough oil to light the shammos (helper candle) and one additional candle for each of the eight nights of Hanukkah (i.e. sixteen candles total).

2) Has enough oil to light Hanukkah candles, Shabbat candles (when Hanukkah coincides with Shabbat), and wine to make Kiddush.

A Hanukkah “have-not” is someone who must prioritize accordingly:

1) If you have no food, you must borrow money to acquire what you need to light the Hanukkah lights.

2) If the only food you have is that which you have received through tzedakah from the community, you must sell it to acquire the basic necessities required to light the Hanukkah lights.

3) If you have nothing but a coat, you must sell it to light the Hanukkah lights.

4) If you are down to your last coin and must choose between buying wine for kiddush and the basics for lighting the Hanukkah lights, you must spend it on the lights.

Basically, for eight days every person who can light the Hanukkah lights, meaning by whatever means necessary, is a “have.”  For eight days the definition is concrete.

We certainly could take issue with the Rambam’s reasoning.  After all, these are rather extreme measures to take for what essentially is a symbol, for a mitzvah that is not even delineated in the Torah, and one that the rabbis of the Talmud arguably brought into being seemingly out of thin air.

We certainly could argue that the dollars and cents of providing each and every human being with food, clothing, shelter, clean water, health care, inoculations, and vital medication—all indubitably life-saving fundamentals, in no way disappear during the eight days of Hanukkah and surely should neither be sacrificed on the altar of nor take a back seat to lighting some holiday lights. 

Yet the Rambam’s laser-like focus on Hanukkah’s oddly democratic absolute has a critical bigger picture impact that drives our ability to guarantee and deliver the outsized need for all of the aforementioned, and more. 

Even though we know we are commanded to uphold the mitzvah of tzedakah, to contribute financially regardless of our net resources, our financial contributions are in some way based on how we answer the question: are you a “have” or are you a “have not?” What we do with our resources significantly hinges on the category in which we place ourselves.  And oftentimes that category affects our perception of how capable and/or responsible we are for pursuing justice in this way. 

We might think we can temporarily leave the work to a “have” until or unless we cease to be a “have not.”  And regardless of how many zeroes are on a single paycheck or in a checking account, these thoughts are human; they are not fueled by selfishness or malintent, more often than not by practicality, and oftentimes by being overwhelmed in the face of how great the world’s needs are and how small our ability is to meet them.  This is all the more the case in hard times, when even the abiding awareness that someone else always has it far worse than we do does not lessen or ameliorate the need for us to address our own troubles and uphold our own commitments. 

This precisely is why the lights matter so much.  They are not, in fact, a matter of currency, but a reminder of conviction.  This is what the Rambam teaches: light leads to memory, and memory leads to action.  What clearer memory is there in the struggle for social justice then a chapter in our people’s history when the single-minded focus on justice in the face of an almost certainly impossible and unwinnable struggle won the day?  And what better way to remind ourselves that we are all perennial “haves” in our capacity to pursue justice for eight days out of the year, even when the other 300-plus invariably become a blur that cause us to divide ourselves, or to be divided into, “haves” and “have nots?”

In the words of Noble Peace Prize winner Leymah Gbowee:

. . . never despise a humble beginning. That’s my word of wisdom. No matter how small, if you have a conviction that this is something that is going to change your community, if you have a conviction that this is something that is going to change your family, if you have a conviction that this is something that is going to do some good, step out and do it.

Haneirot ha’llalu kodesh hen.  These Hanukkah lights are sacred indeed.

What do these predictions mean?  Are people becoming more globally aware and sensitive?  The Internet has been widely used for the past 15 years and there has always been talk of its usefulness in spreading knowledge globally.  Has it taken this long for it to produce in us compassion for those overseas?

Or has global compassion always existed and it is a sense of global obligation that is new?  Perhaps an attitude of us/them is transforming into an attitude of global oneness. 

I like to think that the conversations happening in actual and online communities are contributing to these trends.  More and more often, we are challenging each other to contemplate our responsibilities to humanity and to think critically about how, why, and to whom we give.  With conceptual questions, it is easy to lose sight of the real impact we make by asking them.  This list, however, shows it – the more we talk about philanthropy, the closer we get to a just global society.

I’ve never been very comfortable with this verse from Proverbs, quoted in the Talmud to support the idea that the act of giving tzedakah can prevent the death of the giver. It implies that tzedakah has some kind of magical power and that we can use tzedakah in order to exert control over life and death.

As I was reminded all too painfully last week, even the most righteous and generous among us aren’t saved from death. But, as I mourn the sudden and tragic deaths of two people who gave tirelessly of themselves in the service of others, I am discovering a different meaning of this verse, and taking comfort in the power of tzedakah not to prevent death, but to respond to it.

Last Monday, I learned of the deaths of two remarkable individuals. One, Dr. Steven Steinberg, was the father of a close childhood friend. The other, Sonia Pierre, was an internationally recognized human rights leader whose projects are supported by American Jewish World Service, the organization for which I work.

I remember Steve from birthday parties and school events, from countless sleep-overs and study-nights at his house, from synagogue and from neighborhood picnics. I knew that professionally, as a cardiologist, he was constantly caring for others, but what I saw more often was how dedicated he was to caring for his family, his friends and his community.

I never met Sonia Pierre, but I heard her speak at AJWS’s 25th anniversary gala, and was awed and inspired by her integrity and commitment to improving the lives of Dominicans of Haitian descent through organizing, advocacy and education.

Both Steve and Sonia died suddenly and much too young—Steve was 60 and Sonia 48. As I struggled to make sense of their tragic deaths, I searched for something that I could do, some action that I could take to alleviate the pain and mitigate my feelings of powerlessness. So I did what I often do in response to death—I gave tzedakah. I gave to MUDHA, the organization Sonia founded to support Haitian migrants and their descendants in the Dominican Republic. And I gave to Beth Tfiloh, the synagogue and school community that, in my mind, is inseparable from Steve and his family. I feel comforted by the act of giving to these institutions that represent and reflect Sonia and Steve, knowing that I am keeping their memories alive and carrying out their visions and values.

Tzedakah won’t save any of us from dying. But, in my experience, tzedakah can save us from the overwhelming paralysis we experience when confronted with death. It can help us grieve and it can help us heal.

For the most part, I don’t work with these people. At Sixth & I Historic Synagogue, in Washington, DC, our constituency is almost entirely young professionals, many of whom don’t make enough money or have enough equity to take tax deductions. They give a little here and there—a happy hour to fight cancer, a person asking on the street. These acts are all admirable, but, I want to push a little further.

It is possible, whether you’re in grad school or making an entry-level salary, to have a thoughtful philanthropic practice. “Even a poor person who receives tzedakah must give tzedakah” (Gittin 7b). Even those without much disposable income should give a little away. If you can’t give the 10% dictated by Jewish law, you can still create a thoughtful giving strategy. 

Perhaps take a percentage of your annual salary and set it aside. If you’re making $30,000, maybe choose 1%, or $300 per year, to give. Or commit to spending one month’s worth of drinks/lattes on tzedakah. If you’re comfortable, ask parents or grandparents to match your donation.

Next determine, percentage wise, how much you want to give locally, nationally, internationally, to Israel; to Jewish vs secular organizations; to direct service vs policy-driven organizations.

And then try to stick to it.

“Lo aleycha HaMelacha Ligmor…” “The work is not for you to finish, but neither are you free to stand idly by.” Just because you’re not Warren Buffet doesn’t mean that you don’t need to give. Try it. Thoughtfully. Take ownership of what you have to give to this world.

Below is part two of two – be sure to read the first part of the interview here.

What giving strategies do you think young people should be experimenting with now, that will help them become better givers in the future?

1.  Develop a giving plan. Resource Generation’s Social Change Giving Plan Notebook is an incredible step-by-step guide for putting your values on paper. Elie Kaunfer’s series is another helpful online tool that discusses ideas about tzedakah. Consider giving in a way that is accountable to yourself and to the change you’re seeking to contribute to. Develop a realistic timeline, and evaluate your overall plan.

2.  Hold your giving practice up to a Social Change Giving framework:
-Does the work you are supporting address the underlying, root causes of inequality and injustice?
-Can the people most impacted by inequality and injustice play a more active role in the decision making around where your money goes?
-Is there transparency and accountability about how much money is going where, and why, particularly in grant making?
-Can you be an ally to the movement by also donating time, connections, knowledge and skills?
-See if you want to make any adjustments to how you make decisions about how, where, and how much you give in the coming year.

3.  Really consider who/where you give to in relation to what you think are the most important things that need to happen to heal and improve our society and world – and how your money can contribute to work that people are already doing to make that happen.

4.  Consider your roles as a donor in its different permutations: When do you choose to be anonymous? When do you choose to be open so as to inspire other donors, or to allow the organization to let you know how to best support their work?

5.  Ask organizations you’ve been supporting about the best timing for your giving or whether there are campaigns coming up where they can leverage your gift; make a pledge to support their work for multiple years so that they have less uncertainty about being able to rely on your support and follow through before they have to remind you to.

6.  Forgive yourself in advance for not doing it exactly right and keep trying and improving upon your giving.

Since it’s almost the end of year, do you have a smart philanthropy tip for making year-end donations?

-Call organizations you support and ask if you can help them make phone calls to their donors to remind them to give. There is often a really big push at the end of the year for non-profits to bring in all their donations and this extra help can go a long way.

-Give more than feels totally comfortable – notice what feels like a stretch and reach for it.

-Think about sharing your giving plan or ideas about giving with others, encourage them to be more generous in their giving, and introduce them to what social change giving can look like.

-Keep track of where you give your money; it’s helpful for taxes and also in identifying whether your contributions are really as intentional as you want them to be.

-Revisit the list you made last year and decide whether you want to support any organizations at higher levels.

-Develop a giving plan and plan to give earlier in the year so that next year you don’t have to give everything at the end of the year since that can be stressful for organizations.

-Build relationships with the people at the organizations you support: don’t be invisible; it’s helpful for organizations to understand who their donors are, what motivates them to give, and whether they can broaden awareness about that organization’s work. It also helps them to feel strengthened that their work is reaching and inspiring others.

-Spend some time doing donor organizing: think about fundraising for the organizations you support, tap into your networks and build broader support for the organization.

-Remember that this work is sacred.

This article was posted at the Pursue blog, Pursue: Action for a Just World.

Photo courtesy Cathdew.

After going over the multiple aspects of the project – Got Gelt? a Chanukah lesson plan for teachers and families, a design competition centered on reimagining the tzedakah box, and an interactive website – the staff was encouraged to get involved! From tweeting about Where Do You Give? to creating a video or blog post for the website, to reaching out to communities and engaging them in a conversation about philanthropy, the staff was pumped to start reimagining tzedakah for the 21st century. 

Of course no successful meeting would be complete without a role-play, which was done beautifully by staff members playing an artist, an 11-year-old girl, and a Jewish grandmother.  Watching our in-house actresses taught us about how to start the conversation of where you give, to whom, and why, and gave us a barrel of laughs as well.  Personally, not only did I learn about how important it is to raise questions about our philanthropic values and identities, but I also learned how fun it can be!

AJWS’s Director of Education and Community Engagement, Stephanie Ives, along with Morgan Soloski, Senior Communications Coordinator, role playing what it’s like to talk with an art student about Where Do You Give? The art student is clearly very interested in learning more…

Fast forward two decades and now I’m a Jewish woman with a giant student loan balance. The promise I made in the mikveh comes with the responsibility to give funds according to our Jewish tradition. Student loan payments aside, the idea of giving money rather than time sometimes seems like a cop out. Why get your hands dirty helping the poor when you can write a check and not think about the people in need? Just giving money rather than time and energy seems like a way of avoiding the situation by throwing money at it.

Yet Jewish tradition requires each person give ten percent of their financial earnings to people in need. We’re obligated to do so not just as a nice thing to do, but to bring us closer to God and to atone for wrongdoing. Living in a city like New York, giving to people in need comes with an entirely different set of conflicts. If I give money to the homeless person asking for spare change on the subway, how can I be sure that they will use it for food rather than alcohol or drugs? Would it be better to give my money to an organization that works toward helping people in need or give to individuals living on the street?

Taking a cue from one of my conversion rabbis, I’ve gotten in the habit of adding money to my tzedakah sack (it’s a cloth bag rather than an ornate box) when I’ve ignored a panhandler on the subway or walked by a homeless person on the street. I say a little prayer asking God to bless the person and when I get home I put all of my spare money into my sack. Depending on the day it’s a few pennies or a few crumpled up dollar bills. I’ve got all of this money–now what?

Our colleagues at Where Do You Give? just launched their new interactive website asking Jews to “Re-imagine Tzedakah for the 21st Century.” As you click through the website you will find links, videos, and guides around tzedakah as well as a design contest which opens on January 10. Reading through the site and listening to the stories of people who are already actively engaged in giving helps put the idea of tzedakah into perspective. We’re obligated as Jews to give tzedakah. Where we give is where we can find passion in a time-honored tradition.

Where do you give? Click here to add a video to the Where do You Give? site. Camera-shy? No worries: add a note here instead.

This article was posted at the Pursue blog, Pursue: Action for a Just World.

How does this concept translate to the world of philanthropy?  If once a year I pay $125 for a ticket to an organization’s gala, am I fulfilling my obligation to give tzedakah?  How often and how much do I have to give in order to fulfill the obligation? 

I have just begun to contemplate these questions.  Last summer I was stopped on the street by a young guy with a clipboard and ended up agreeing to give $5 a month to the Human Rights Campaign.  Though I can’t afford to give much more, I don’t think I’m fulfilling my obligation.  I have no relationship to the organization and no knowledge of the work they do or how my money is being spent.  I don’t judge obligation by how much or how often I give, but rather by my emotional investment in the cause.  For me, my philanthropic obligation is not complete when I write a check or pay my credit card bill; I must be educated about the issues, passionate about their solutions, and connected in money, time, and energy, to the pursuit of social justice.

Tzedakah has been practiced in many diverse ways through our history. A few thousand years ago, it was expressed agriculturally through tithes that went to the poor, itinerant and those who served the community. As Jewish civilization shifted from agriculture, the rabbis devised mechanisms to keep Jews giving tzedakah in consistent, meaningful ways. One of these mechanisms was called ma’aser kesafim (ma’aser means “a tenth,” kesafim “money”). This mechanism takes the tithing principle from agriculture and applies it to money; one resolves that 10 percent of his or her income now belongs to the poor and is to be donated accordingly. The fraction, 10 percent, is considered by Jewish law as a good median level of giving. The Talmud (Ketubot 50a) considers 20 percent the upper ceiling, unless one has means to give more or someone’s life is in immediate danger. Less than ten percent is considered miserly.

As with all Jewish practices, there is discussion and disagreement over many of the details, but here are some starting points for giving maaser kesafim based on rabbinic sources:

How do I calculate ma’aser kesafim?

Ma’aser kesafim is generally understood as taking 10 percent of all after-tax income or profit one receives from income, business deals, inheritances, gifts, things you find or acquire through other means. One is not required to take ma’aser kesafim from stocks, bonds or other assets that rose in value over a given time period if they were not sold. Once sold, take ma’aser kesafim from the profit, after taxes.

How often should I calculate it?

Ma’aser kesafim can be allocated annually, monthly, or even weekly. Generally, whatever is the easiest way to keep track. One suggestion, from Rabbi Jill Jacobs, is to set up a bank account that automatically moves one tenth of every direct deposit paycheck into a separate ma’aser account.

Who should receive my ma’aser kesafim money?

Money designated as ma’aser kesafim should go toward supporting the poor. Some say that it can also be used to support religious/spiritual activities.

Though ma’aser kesafim has deep Jewish roots, it is not widely known about or practiced in many Jewish circles. This is unfortunate, but you have the power to change it. By taking on this practice, and then sharing it with your family, friends, and Jewish communal organizations, you can help strengthen the capacity of the Jewish people to pursue tzedek. We have a lot of work to do in this world until we reach the biblical call to make poverty efes - zero. Good intentions won’t get us there alone. Together, let’s strive towards that more perfect world, using the might of our hearts, our minds, and our money.

Photo courtesy of cwwycoff1

Where can we find true righteousness in the world? Is it a number on our paychecks? A filled tzedakah box? A room filled with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the poor?
Today, the one of the most salient misconceptions in our faith is that righteousness has a given size. When someone donates his entire bank account to a cause or global project, he is considered righteous. If someone prepares at least two hundred meals for the hungry, only then he is viewed as a true tzadik in Jewish life. However, it is the actually the less obvious acts of kindness performed on earth that epitomize genuine righteousness.

According to Maimonides, an acclaimed Talmudist, the greatest form of giving is through an anonymous process. One should not need to know every detail about the recipient of his money, effort, or time. The primary reward for doing an act of kindness is the deed itself. By promoting a world of modesty, selflessness, and whole-hearted giving, we could all set the paragon for Jewish living. 

In my opinion, money, regardless of its amount or value, does not override timeless philanthropy, or the love of mankind. We were not placed on this earth to achieve goodness, but rather to pursue it. That goodness could ensue from initializing a conversation with someone. Holding the door for a person behind you, regardless of his/her background, is an act of true righteousness. We are living in a new world where social philanthropy, or the love of mankind, takes precedence over financial donations. In fact, righteousness can be found within all who choose to spread goodness with others.

This Chanukah, inspire your community to join a fresh, cutting-edge conversation about tzedakah in an increasingly interconnected world. Our Got Gelt? Chanukah activity—the first phase of American Jewish World Service’s Where Do You Give? project—is an interactive, educational experience for students and their families to:

• Inspire exploration of their tzedakah priorities.
• Encourage creative reimagining of tzedakah through a multimedia conversation including video, blogs and other social media.
• Connect students’ learning to their families’ celebration of Chanukah through a take-home guide for dedicating one night of the holiday to giving tzedakah.

For a complimentary lesson plan, click here!  To learn more, e-mail info@wheredoyougive.org or contact Sasha Feldstein at 212.792.2936  

Where Do You Give? Reimagining Tzedakah for the 21st Century, a project of American Jewish World Service, combines a national design competition, online interactive media, and educational resources to engage the Jewish community in critical questions about where we give, to whom and why. For more information go to http://www.WhereDoYouGive.org and follow us @WhereDoYouGive.

Within the past month, I have received envelopes requesting donations from the following organizations: American Jewish World Service, Brandeis University (my alma mater), WBUR, MAZON, The Human Rights Campaign, and the American Cancer Society. How should I choose which organization I support and how much to give? 

During my Yom Kippur Study Hour, as I encouraged us to learn about hunger in Africa, many of you asked questions similar to, “how can we support people suffering in Africa when there are people around the corner in Belmont who need our help?” As we watch the international news, or walk through the center of town, it is easy to get overwhelmed by the amount of need – should we give aid to people who live close by or across the ocean, people who are hungry or those who face illness, organizations that support the environment or the arts? Should we give to those with immediate needs or work toward long-term sustainable solutions?  How can we ensure that the money we do give is used most effectively and responsibly?  What wisdom does Judaism offer about how we should prioritize our giving?

In the Babylonian Talmud, redacted around 500CE, Rav Yosef responds to the teaching in Exodus that reads, “If you lend money to any of my people that are poor with you, do not act toward them as a creditor; exact no interest from them” (Exodus 22:24).  He explains that, “if the choice lies between a Jew and a non-Jew, a Jew has preference; the poor or the rich, the poor takes precedence; your poor [i.e. your relatives] and the [general] poor of your town, your poor come first; the poor of your city and the poor of another town, the poor of your own town have prior rights (Bava Metzia 71a, Soncino translation).  Rav Yosef writes during a time when Jews lived in their own towns, apart from everyone else, and he clearly believes that we should help our own first, before we help others. I think that it is safe to say that Rav Yosef probably was not intimately connected to anyone beyond his town’s borders.

However, our world is different today.  The person who picked the bananas we eat or the coffee beans used to make this morning’s coffee may live on another continent but is intimately connected to our lives. In addition, our trade and international aid policies directly affect individuals in other countries. 

This changes our reality, and I believe must change the way we prioritize our giving.  We cannot ignore those in our community who are in need of help, but we cannot ignore those in other countries either.  The Hatam Sofer, a 19th Century Hungarian Rabbi, offers a different perspective to that of Rav Yosef, “If there is a poor person within your gates,” Sifre (collection of legal midrash on the book of Deuteronomy) expounds this verse saying, “When one is starving, the one who is starving takes precedence” and then expounds, “The poor of your city take precedence over the poor of another city.” That is to say—this applies if both poor people need food or clothing. However, if the poor of your city have what they need to live, but just don’t have any extra money [and the poor of the other city don’t have food or clothing], then the poor of the other city take precedence over the poor of your city, for the neediest takes precedence (Hatam Sofer, 2:231, Translation by Rabbi Jill Jacobs).

The Hatam Sofer challenges us to decide who are the “neediest,” though it may not always be clear just who those people are.  There are millions of people in need just beyond our doorsteps and around the world. There are no easy answers and no easy ways to decide how to allocate our tzedakah.  It is up to us to keep in mind the teachings of Rav Yosef and the Hatam Sofer and make our own decisions.  Here are some guidelines that I would suggest:

1. Be intentional about giving. Gather as a family and discuss, and perhaps vote, on the criteria that you would like to use when deciding how to allocate your tzedakah (righteous giving) this year. (Criteria could include: issues about which you are particularly passionate, those within our community and those beyond our borders, immediate verses long-term concerns, and a diverse group of people and issues)

2. Conduct research on specific organizations, find out how they use the money they receive, what percentage of donations contribute to overhead costs, and use websites like “Guidestar” to look at the organization’s nonprofit report and tax information.  Before you give to a specific organization, call them and ask if you can allocate your donation to a specific cause within their organization.

3. Support organizations that have been recognized by those we trust. For disaster relief and international aid, consider supporting AJWS who effectively support grassroots sustainable change (http://www.ajws.org) and organizations that the Union for Reform Judaism and BETC support (http://urj.org/socialaction/issues/relief/). 

4. Help others with our time and political advocacy in addition to providing financial support.  Ask an organization about which you are passionate how you can help in other ways.

5. You don’t have to solve all the world’s problems in one year or by yourself!  We have our whole lifetime to give to others.  Think about your giving as part of a long-term and community plan.

As Rabbi Tarfon teaches, lo alecha hamlacha ligmor, you are not required to complete the task, but neither are you free to desist from it.  I hope you have a very happy New Year, one filled with joy and appreciation, reflection and giving.

Do you agree with these guidelines? Why or why not? Tell us in the comments section below!

Thank you to everyone who answered our first poll:

What percentage of your income do you give to philanthropic causes?

While almost a quarter of you give away 3%-5%, a third of respondents said that they have no idea how much of their income they give away to tzedakah!

Considering that we’re technically supposed to give at least 10% of our income to tzedakah (a lofty goal, I know), we seem to be falling a bit short.

Looking at the data, it seems like the first step we should all take is getting an accurate assesment of how much we currently give and where all of our money is currently going.

If you are like a lot of our poll respondents and aren’t quite sure where your money is going, try starting an assesment of your monthly budget this month. Or try to actually allocate a certain percentage of your income to tzedakah right after you get your next paycheck. Let us know how it goes in the comments section below!

And don’t forget to answer our new poll, on the left!

I recently asked a friend of mine about her experiences with tzedakah, from when she first learned about tzedakah to what it means to her today. I found that her memories of tzedakah are very similar to mine and many others whom I’ve asked. It appears that many people learn about tzedakah at a very young age, but it’s not until they get older that they really start to engage with it.

Do you remember first learning about tzedakah? Do you remember your first tzedakah box? After reading her story, tell us your own tzedakah story by commenting below!

“I first learned about tzedakah in Mechina (preschool) at Temple Beth Hillel in Valley Village, CA. My teacher taught us that it’s important to give back but I don’t really remember learning why or anything else besides that it’s a good thing to do. She wrote the word tzedakah on the chalkboard, in Hebrew and in English, and from then on, every Sunday morning on my way to Hebrew school my parents would give me a dollar to put in the classroom tzedakah box. I don’t remember where that money went, and my parents never asked, either.

“It wasn’t until my bat-mitzvah that I initiated giving tzedakah myself. In planning for my bat-mitzvah, my parents talked to me about the fact that I would be receiving money from my friends and family and that it would be a mitzvah to think about donating some of it to an organization I cared about. My rabbi helped me decide where to donate.

“My grandfather died from multiple-sclerosis, and after he passed away my grandmother began working for an MS organization. I decided that I wanted to honor both of them by giving to the organization that she worked for.

“Today, I don’t give a lot of tzedakah because I don’t have a real income. However, I know that tzedakah is something that’s important to me and I want to be able to give on a regular basis, I’m just not sure when, or how or where.”

Allison Whorton lives in Brooklyn, NY.

There are so many organizations and causes that we believe are important and yet we have limited amounts of money to give. One way to deal with this challenge is to get really systematic about giving tzedakah and to articulate our priorities which can serve as guidelines for where we give. Centuries ago, Rabbi Yosef, an ancient scholar, came up with one system for guiding decisions about offering financial assistance. His system is recorded in the Talmud, Bava Metzia 71a.

Rabbi Yosef taught [about the verse in the Torah that says]: “If you lend money to any of my people that are poor with you” (Exodus 22:24).
This verse teaches that if you have to choose between:

• a Jew and a non-Jew, give to the Jew first;
• a poor person and a rich person, give to the poor person first;
• a poor relative and poor people in your town, give to your poor relative first;
• poor people in your city and poor people in another city, give to the poor people of your own town first.

Though you might disagree with his choices, Rabbi Yosef offers us a model for assigning priority to certain causes and populations, and for being decisive and systematic—rather than reactive and haphazard—about where we give tzedakah.

Using Rabbi Yosef as an example, I tried to create my own guidelines for giving tzedakah, which turned out to be harder than I imagined. I don’t think this covers all of the tough choices I make about tzedakah, and I certainly don’t always follow these principles, but even the process of trying to articulate them helped me clarify where I want to give tzedakah and why.

“Lisa teaches: When you give tzedakah and have to choose between: poverty and all other causes, poverty comes first; extreme poverty and less severe poverty, extreme poverty comes first; someone you know and someone you don’t know, the person you know comes first.”

What are your tzedakah priorities?  Post them in the comments section below!

Photo courtesy of Mykl Roventine

When we think of charity we usually think of giving spare change to people who ask for money on the street, donating to a food drive or giving money to a local shelter. This kind of giving is considered tzedakah as well, but our tradition teaches us that tzedakah is about a much larger redistribution of resources that will contribute to a just society. Depending on how and where we give tzedakah, such as to advocacy, education and human rights we can promote long-term, lasting change with our tzedakah giving. If tzedakah truly means justice and righteousness as opposed to charity, then this means that the expectations of our tzedakah giving are far greater than providing for short-term, material needs.

This concludes the top 5 list of differences between charity and tzedakah, but please let me know if you can think of other differences to offer!

Ways to tell whether or not the money you are giving is tzedakah:

From the Babylonian Talmud, Chagigah 5a, taken from On1Foot: “It had been better that you had not given him, than now that you have given him publicly and put him to shame.”

Therefore, if the money you are giving to someone publicly humiliates someone, it might not count as tzedakah.

If the money you are giving is accompanied by you trying to act as a paternal savior—yeah, it might not count as tzedakah. 

And if the money you are giving is followed by you giving yourself a pat on the back and thinking that your work here is done…

Well, not only is that wrong, but it’s also not tzedakah.

Would it have been better to not give at all?

From the Jewish Virtual Library: “Hundreds of years later, the Talmud taught: ‘Tzedaka (sic) is equal to all the other commandments combined’ (Bava Bathra 9b). From Judaism’s perspective, therefore, one who gives tzedaka is acting justly; One who doesn’t, unjustly. And Jewish law views this lack of justice as not only mean­spirited but also illegal.”

Can you imagine being arrested for not giving tzedakah!? Do you really think giving tzedakah is equal to all the other commanments combined? Do you feel obligated to give tzedakah or do you feel like you do it because you want to do something good?