How to Heal the World on a Budget

It sounded like a lot of money at the time. $800. Gathered from the members of the Young Woman's Tzedakah Collective of Ma'yan: The Jewish Women's Project, this pool of money--when given away--was supposed to fulfill our urges to feed the hungry, support political candidates, underwrite cultural institutions and generally get the world back on a humane track. It was supposed to be infinitely more satisfying than the $25 checks members of our little group had been writing out individually for years, feeling insufficient to the task of improving the world on a barely sufficient budget.

Our collective effort started nearly three years ago, when nearly a dozen Jewish women in their 20s and 30s sat down around a table to explore our own giving. Between us there were graduate students, government workers and non-profit employees; one worked for corporate America. A handful had prospects of some inherited money to give away. Most were making ends meet, but not by much. We each pledged to give $5 a month to a communal fund to be donated at the end of our year.

Though money was the point, it was also besides the point. Charitably ambitious but financially strapped, we needed to figure out how we could be both activist and satisfied when giving on a budget. In discussions guided by philanthropist and Ma'yan founder Barbara Dobkin, it became clear that our (perhaps overly conscientious?) group was approaching this decision as if millions depended on it. We haggled and fretted and grappled amongst ourselves over a number of recurring questions that, we hoped, would lead us to the answer of our philanthropic cares.

Our group, now three years old, has lost some members and gained others. We've looked for ways to share our experiences and perpetuate the process, and have created a curriculum for a brand new program, launching this fall. "No Small Change--The Young Jewish Women's Tzedakah Collective," will be a gathering place for tenth-grade girls and their 30-something allies that will meet once a month in Manhattan during the current school year. On the agenda: Philanthropy-Why Should We Do It and Who Cares? How Do I Feel About Money? What Do I Believe In? If I Could Change Anything in the World, What Would It Be?

Our new collective will be driven by the passions and concerns of the girls and women involved (only four of the original dozen remain). But we also hope it will reflect some of the satisfying process we went through that year, so I offer a thumbnail portrait of the issues we wrestled with.

How do I feel about money?
Our first group of women might easily might have spent a year discussing only this. Though we barely knew each other, we were quickly recounting pivotal childhood memories: an unheated childhood home; a dressing-down over a new pair of jeans. We shared, as adults, a feeling that there was no order to the way money came into and out of our lives. It was exhausting and, as I sighed at the end of this first session, more intimate than talking about sex.

What is philanthropy?
Our leader, an experienced philanthropist by anyone's standards, wanted to know. We mused: Bureaucracy. The UJA. Banquets. Large checks. Men. One thing we knew for sure, philanthropy had nothing to do with us. Tzedakah, on the other hand, we were more comfortable with. It meant pennies dropped into tin boxes, and a sense that even doing a little was doing a lot. We also were intrigued by the notion that our skills, education, friends and--being mostly single and all childless--our free time would be helpful in making our tzedakah valuable to others and ourselves.

What do I believe?
Using Tracy Gary and Melissa Kohner's workbook, "Inspired Philanthropy," we knitted our brows trying to choose our "top three values." We sorted through the tiny values cards they provided, shuffling and reshuffling the deck. Then we voted. The most common selections: Knowledge, Community, Integrity, though the dozens of other choices--Compassion, Dignity, Responsibility, among them--seem arguably as good.

Things got even more complicated when it came time to choose our top three "issues." The big questions: Does giving Jewishly mean giving to Jewish causes? Does giving as feminists mean giving to women? And does "repairing the world" mean, literally, the world, or is it okay to just start with the homeless on my front steps?

Who wants my money?
In a rapid, first-impression sorting, we scanned all those solicitation letters collected from everyone's mail. Out went public television, abortion providers and cancer centers--we had at least determined at that stage to give to a Jewish cause. Out went places that courted the million-dollar donor. We were suckers for children, for grassroots causes, for the anti-establishment option.

Who can help us decide?
Time was the only obstacle to our enlisting the expertise of those who work and think about these issues every day. Our one learned guest was Marlene Provizer, executive director of the Jewish Fund for Justice, whose faith that activism and charitable giving were intertwined mirrored our own. As one member exclaimed when Proviser left: "I'm ready to give her my life savings!" Or at least $800.

In our next issue, Part II: where did the money go and how did they decide, when in this project spread, and how to start a tzedakah collective of your own

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Do you want some help starting your own collective? Are you a 10th-grade girl in the New York area who wants to join ours? Call us!

"No Small Change" will meet for one Sunday afternoon a month in Manhattan, October 2000-May 2001. Spaces are limited, so call soon! Sarah Blustain (212-397-8183) or Rachel Hyman (718-783-5903)