Can I just say that I think there is something absolutely immoral about using children to raise funds for anything? I’m talking particularly about the obscene School Fundraiser. You know, the ones where the kids attend an assembly (parents not invited) at which professional “motivational” people show them slides and videos of all the cool STUFF they could earn—slide after slide, visual after visual, blatantly appealing to the kids’ GREED for stuffstuffstuffstuffstuff—and then spend ninety seconds explaining how they hit people up to order STUFF in order to earn these rewards. Disgusting!
I happened to sit in on the assembly this year because of a mistake in scheduling for my classroom volunteer time. You would not believe the cheers and screaming from these kids when they saw what they could earn. Of course, the presenters show the smallest prize first (a glow-in-the-dark necklace! For just five orders!) and then they move gradually up to the biggest (an i-pod! For just 250 orders!). These kids practically took the roof off the gymn with their screams when they saw that. And of course, here they came at the end of the day with their precious catalogs and PRIZE BROCHURES clutched under their arms, ready to hit up the parents, the neighbors, grandma and grandpa and dad’s coworkers so they could get their precious i-pods.
(And I won’t even get into the amazing rip-off that these catalogs are full of. $9.00 for 7 ounces of chocolate-covered almonds?????)
What a very clear refresher course in some of the reasons I do NOT like capitalism. I’m sorry if that is offensive to your “this country was established by God on the godly principle of greed--oops I mean capitalism” philosophy. But I do NOT believe it is healthy to bombard people constantly with visions of stuff they don’t need—especially when these people are young children. It’s hard enough to try to limit the materialism in my children’s world without their SCHOOL CRAMMING IT DOWN THEIR THROATS!!!! It sends mixed signals when a child’s school (a major force of authority in his life) appears to “assign” him to go out and sell stuff. No, I’m wrong. It is NOT a mixed signal. It is a very clear signal about society—-but one I HATE, and one that has NO BUSINESS being in the schools.
If you need money, ask me for it, please. None of this child prostitution.
(Wait a minute. They DO keep asking us to write checks in the form of higher taxes for education. And I am absolutely willing to pay them. But there are many, many people unwilling to do so. Capitalists, all of them. [Insert winking smiley here because I want you to still like me even though you are a gun-totin' patriot].)
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Bah, Humbug
I have a hard time at gift-giving occasions. I’d like to find a reason for this other than my own selfishness and pride, but I’m feeling a little squirmy because I’m afraid that that’s what it gets down to.
So here’s the deal. I have two problems: stinginess and a very sad lack of shopping skills.
First, I always feel like money is tight. It doesn’t matter how much we have, I am always aware of how much we owe, or the things we ought to be doing with money if we had more, and also how much I shouldn’t have spent last week/month in light of those things. I think I will ALWAYS feel that money is tight; it’s bred into me.
So, at public gift-giving time (and here I am talking about Christmas and also wedding and baby showers, not times when you give a present just because you feel like it and you know it won’t be compared to what everyone else is giving), I feel tense. As soon as the relatives start talking about who is giving to whom this year, and what the targeted amount-per-present should be, my muscles start to twitch and my body goes into fight-or-flight. Because any amount is always too much (here’s the selfishness), and because I am extremely deficient in “finding a good deal” or “making something small look big and fabulous” or even “picking just the right thing” categories. I feel humiliated when I have to give things to people in front of other people, because my present always seems cheaper/dumber than everyone else’s, even when I bite the bullet and spend MORE than I should just to avoid embarrassment. (Have you ever been to a baby shower, clutching your little hooded towel or baby bath set, and watched people give the expecting mother three designer outfits each? This always happens to me.)
I don’t speak the gift-giving love language. Giving gifts is never about love with me. It’s about obligation.
I hate this about myself. I don’t really know how to change it, either. In efforts to avoid wincing when I need to start dumping money at Shopko, we have begun budgeting money all year so that we have a Christmas cushion. It hasn’t helped much. I still can’t stand the feeling of spending, spending, spending. I try to think nice things about the people I’m buying for as I buy. I try to plan ahead and select things with care and love. I’m really trying here, folks. But I still feel nothing but churning stomach when it comes to trying to pick out, buy, wrap and publicly give presents.
Yes, I know it’s pride, this thing about being in public. I admit it.
The problem with public gift-giving is that there is never an option to sit out. Imagine what it would be like if I said to our relatives one year, “I’m sorry. We’re sitting out Christmas this year. (But feel free to give to us if you want.)” Or if one year I gave only cheapie presents—say, $5 presents, when everyone else was doing $15. Knowing my relatives, they would be very sweet about it and not feel bad. But I would be miserable. That’s the problem with parties at which people exchange gifts—you know everyone is going to see. (Pride, pride.)
Then there's always the kids in my children's classes at school who invite their entire class to their birthday parties. What's with that? I've never even heard of the kid, and now I have to find money in my budget for them? And since sending something cheap (a candy bar, say) isn't an option, I end up keeping my kids home from the party. Can you believe that? My own cheapness and pride keeps my kid from a birthday party.
And the other source of my paranoia is that since I hate shopping, I am sadly lacking in experience and knowledge about what a good price is or high value is. I know that even if I spend more than the requisite amount on a really cool (it seems to me) candle, for example, the person I give it to knows vastly more than I do about candles. Probably she will look at it and know (in some mysterious way) that it is the BAD brand of candles. Because probably everyone but me knows that a candle from anywhere but “Salt City,” for example, or some other place I don’t know about, is not worth burning.
Now, I know that several of my relatives and friends, to whom I plan to give and to whom I will always give, are reading this. I hope you all know that it really has nothing to do with my love for you, my gratefulness to you, or my desire to give you something you would love. I just wish there were some way I could sacrifice for you that would feel meaningful—to both of us. I wish I could get over this. I’m working on it. In the meantime, keep in mind when you open things from me, that I am groveling inside at my own stupidity for picking out whatever it is. Know that I still love you, even though I hate buying gifts.
Hey, here’s an idea: next year, let’s all spend a lot of time thinking about what we would give each other if money were no object. (We can take all year to do this, and we will do it for everyone instead of drawing names, because, hey--money is no object.) Then we’ll write our ideas on a piece of paper, wrap them up, and then open them together. It will be a mutual covet-fest. (But we'll be spending time together, thinking about each other and getting to know each other better.) And then we’ll take all the money we budgeted for Christmas and go out to eat somewhere fun, or buy sub-for-Santa gifts and donate them—or both. How would that be?
So here’s the deal. I have two problems: stinginess and a very sad lack of shopping skills.
First, I always feel like money is tight. It doesn’t matter how much we have, I am always aware of how much we owe, or the things we ought to be doing with money if we had more, and also how much I shouldn’t have spent last week/month in light of those things. I think I will ALWAYS feel that money is tight; it’s bred into me.
So, at public gift-giving time (and here I am talking about Christmas and also wedding and baby showers, not times when you give a present just because you feel like it and you know it won’t be compared to what everyone else is giving), I feel tense. As soon as the relatives start talking about who is giving to whom this year, and what the targeted amount-per-present should be, my muscles start to twitch and my body goes into fight-or-flight. Because any amount is always too much (here’s the selfishness), and because I am extremely deficient in “finding a good deal” or “making something small look big and fabulous” or even “picking just the right thing” categories. I feel humiliated when I have to give things to people in front of other people, because my present always seems cheaper/dumber than everyone else’s, even when I bite the bullet and spend MORE than I should just to avoid embarrassment. (Have you ever been to a baby shower, clutching your little hooded towel or baby bath set, and watched people give the expecting mother three designer outfits each? This always happens to me.)
I don’t speak the gift-giving love language. Giving gifts is never about love with me. It’s about obligation.
I hate this about myself. I don’t really know how to change it, either. In efforts to avoid wincing when I need to start dumping money at Shopko, we have begun budgeting money all year so that we have a Christmas cushion. It hasn’t helped much. I still can’t stand the feeling of spending, spending, spending. I try to think nice things about the people I’m buying for as I buy. I try to plan ahead and select things with care and love. I’m really trying here, folks. But I still feel nothing but churning stomach when it comes to trying to pick out, buy, wrap and publicly give presents.
Yes, I know it’s pride, this thing about being in public. I admit it.
The problem with public gift-giving is that there is never an option to sit out. Imagine what it would be like if I said to our relatives one year, “I’m sorry. We’re sitting out Christmas this year. (But feel free to give to us if you want.)” Or if one year I gave only cheapie presents—say, $5 presents, when everyone else was doing $15. Knowing my relatives, they would be very sweet about it and not feel bad. But I would be miserable. That’s the problem with parties at which people exchange gifts—you know everyone is going to see. (Pride, pride.)
Then there's always the kids in my children's classes at school who invite their entire class to their birthday parties. What's with that? I've never even heard of the kid, and now I have to find money in my budget for them? And since sending something cheap (a candy bar, say) isn't an option, I end up keeping my kids home from the party. Can you believe that? My own cheapness and pride keeps my kid from a birthday party.
And the other source of my paranoia is that since I hate shopping, I am sadly lacking in experience and knowledge about what a good price is or high value is. I know that even if I spend more than the requisite amount on a really cool (it seems to me) candle, for example, the person I give it to knows vastly more than I do about candles. Probably she will look at it and know (in some mysterious way) that it is the BAD brand of candles. Because probably everyone but me knows that a candle from anywhere but “Salt City,” for example, or some other place I don’t know about, is not worth burning.
Now, I know that several of my relatives and friends, to whom I plan to give and to whom I will always give, are reading this. I hope you all know that it really has nothing to do with my love for you, my gratefulness to you, or my desire to give you something you would love. I just wish there were some way I could sacrifice for you that would feel meaningful—to both of us. I wish I could get over this. I’m working on it. In the meantime, keep in mind when you open things from me, that I am groveling inside at my own stupidity for picking out whatever it is. Know that I still love you, even though I hate buying gifts.
Hey, here’s an idea: next year, let’s all spend a lot of time thinking about what we would give each other if money were no object. (We can take all year to do this, and we will do it for everyone instead of drawing names, because, hey--money is no object.) Then we’ll write our ideas on a piece of paper, wrap them up, and then open them together. It will be a mutual covet-fest. (But we'll be spending time together, thinking about each other and getting to know each other better.) And then we’ll take all the money we budgeted for Christmas and go out to eat somewhere fun, or buy sub-for-Santa gifts and donate them—or both. How would that be?
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Money's Too Tight to Mention
One of the down sides of living in a wealthy nation (and having so much, myself) is the problem of deciding what to do with my "disposable" income. I will be the first to admit that we are extremely wealthy, just by the fact that my kids never, ever go hungry. But I have such a hard time getting proper perspective on money and how to spend it. I really wish I could get to a point where I have things figured out.
For example, we'd like to put Terror into karate lessons. $75 a month it would be. Honestly, when we sit down and look at a budget, which we try not to do, not only do we not have $75 a month for karate, but we are not surviving on what we do have. And yet, we seem to be living pretty comfortably. But, since it doesn't work out on paper, does that mean we should not risk it and make the commitment for the $75? Or does that mean we should just dive in and hope it'll work out, as it always seems to? And how far can we push this "hoping things work out"? Can we eat out on our weekly dates? Can I buy Earth shoes for my sore feet? Can I buy my next jeans at J.C. Penney's instead of D.I.? And what about that cruise want to go on for our 15th anniversary next year?
I feel, always, as if we are pinching pennies. Does anyone ever get over this feeling? I imagine people do--at least the many people in my ward who hire housekeepers and lawn services. Somebody somewhere has to be living relaxed and not wondering which things they ought to be cutting back on. I actually don't mind the feeling of having to be frugal and doubt I could ever shake it even if someone stepped in and paid off all our student loans and mortgage tomorrow. I think feeling as if money is tight is just natural for me (inbred) and I could probably never shake it. But it blows my mind to stand back and look at how wealthy we must appear (at how wealthy we ARE) and yet I still hesitate to buy the kids new socks or to buy clothes for any of us anywhere but at D.I. I guess it all comes down to the little splurges and the little sacrificies we all make, and I'm sure we all have different things we give up/splurge on. I've never taken the kids to Disneyland. We don't own a decent TV. Only one or two pieces of furniture in the house are not hand-me-downs, and we got them at the Scratch-and-Dent sale. I buy drugstore make-up (and look like it, too!), cheap haircuts, and would never pay for a gym membership. I recently splurged and signed up for the milkman service but only because we are now mixing all of our milk with powdered.
But, the house is bigger than we need. We have a tent trailer. Roger and I usually eat out on our dates. And we take a vacation without the kids a few times a year.
After all this, how could I ever justify the immense cost of going back to school? I can't take my kids to Disneyland but I can go get an MFA?
Where is my perspective? How do I find it?
For example, we'd like to put Terror into karate lessons. $75 a month it would be. Honestly, when we sit down and look at a budget, which we try not to do, not only do we not have $75 a month for karate, but we are not surviving on what we do have. And yet, we seem to be living pretty comfortably. But, since it doesn't work out on paper, does that mean we should not risk it and make the commitment for the $75? Or does that mean we should just dive in and hope it'll work out, as it always seems to? And how far can we push this "hoping things work out"? Can we eat out on our weekly dates? Can I buy Earth shoes for my sore feet? Can I buy my next jeans at J.C. Penney's instead of D.I.? And what about that cruise want to go on for our 15th anniversary next year?
I feel, always, as if we are pinching pennies. Does anyone ever get over this feeling? I imagine people do--at least the many people in my ward who hire housekeepers and lawn services. Somebody somewhere has to be living relaxed and not wondering which things they ought to be cutting back on. I actually don't mind the feeling of having to be frugal and doubt I could ever shake it even if someone stepped in and paid off all our student loans and mortgage tomorrow. I think feeling as if money is tight is just natural for me (inbred) and I could probably never shake it. But it blows my mind to stand back and look at how wealthy we must appear (at how wealthy we ARE) and yet I still hesitate to buy the kids new socks or to buy clothes for any of us anywhere but at D.I. I guess it all comes down to the little splurges and the little sacrificies we all make, and I'm sure we all have different things we give up/splurge on. I've never taken the kids to Disneyland. We don't own a decent TV. Only one or two pieces of furniture in the house are not hand-me-downs, and we got them at the Scratch-and-Dent sale. I buy drugstore make-up (and look like it, too!), cheap haircuts, and would never pay for a gym membership. I recently splurged and signed up for the milkman service but only because we are now mixing all of our milk with powdered.
But, the house is bigger than we need. We have a tent trailer. Roger and I usually eat out on our dates. And we take a vacation without the kids a few times a year.
After all this, how could I ever justify the immense cost of going back to school? I can't take my kids to Disneyland but I can go get an MFA?
Where is my perspective? How do I find it?
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