Tax-deductable contribution

I'm still volunteering for the battered women's program, still taking hotline calls once a week for a couple of hours. Like a lot of nonprofits in Illinois right now, the program I volunteer for is facing a pretty major financial crisis. The state is about two shakes from passing a ridiculous budget that, in lieu of an income tax increase, will cut significant funding to social service agencies. The mental health center in town will lose half its staff. The program serving victims of child abuse and child sexual assault will close its doors. The domestic violence program will lose its court advocacy and shelter services, among other things.

Last fall, the program opened up a resale shop to help raise money to subsidize the cost of services. They bought a house on a busy street, filled it up with racks and shelves, and opened it up as a business. Everything they sell is donated: mostly women's and children's clothes, shoes, toys, household items, books, the odd piece of exercise equipment or furniture. They're open six days a week; all the proceeds go towards providing services to victims of violence and their kids. In addition to my hotline shift, I help out at the store once a week. It's fun, mostly; I work the cash register, sort and price donations, buy armfulls of Dora-related merchandise to enable Cletus the Former Fetus' growing habit.

Today I was going through some big black trash bags of stuff that had been left in the store's drop-off bin. I stuck my arm inside one of them, felt around a bit until something sharp pricked my hand. The bag was full of crafting cast-offs: half-finished cross stitching projects, stained fabric, rusty sewing needles, half-shredded quilting magazines from the 80s, straight pins. Someone packed up the bottom half of a closet, sharps and all, tossed it all into an unlabeled bag and left it. "For charity."

There were salvageable bits. I gathered any usable craft supplies into ziploc bags and priced them at $3.00 per lot. Every little bit helps, or something. But I can't help but indulge in a little self-righteous anger. Who is the person who thinks that a) someone else deserves to buy dull, rusty needles, and b) staff or volunteers at a resource-strapped nonprofit should have to sort through bags filled with loose pins and dirty kleenex (yes. seriously.)? It's the same mentality that says "Hey, this shirt is stained and torn and I won't wear it anymore... but I bet a POOR PERSON will! I'll donate it!" Or: "This television no longer works, and I don't want to wait until the large trash pick-up day later on in the summer. I'll donate it!"

You can always tell when someone's donating crap. They come in to the store and hand over their bags without making eye contact. They practically sprint back out to the car. They never ask for a receipt for tax purposes. In contrast, people donating gently used (or even really-old-but-still-usable) items often stop to offer a summary description. "This bag is full of girls' clothing. My daughter can't wear them anymore." They look around the shop for awhile. They smile and chat and ask how the store is doing.

This may be an unpopular opinion, but I believe that beggars (for lack of a less offensive saying to appropriate) CAN be choosers. I mean, come on. There are so many people out there who are willing to donate nice things, suitable things -- I'm not talking about new merchandise, I'm talking about clean merchandise. I'm talking about merchandise that's all in one piece, that fulfills its basic intended function (i.e. a toaster that toasts, or a book with all its pages). If you've got trash, just throw it away. Recycle it. Take it to the dump. But don't assume that just because someone is hard-up (and the majority of people who shop at this store are hard-up, a significant portion of them clients of the agency), they should buy and use and wear garbage.

The end. And a hearty fuck you to the person whose crusty snot-rag I ended up holding in my hand this afternoon, whoever and wherever you may be. The downtrodden citizens of western Illinois thank you for your kind donation.