focused philanthropy is a powerful tool for change
Focused philanthropy is a powerful tool for change

Some problems seem beyond our control:  world hunger, child abuse, epidemics.  When you think about such thorny issues, you may feel helpless.

But break those problems down into smaller pieces, and you may find a way to tackle them.  Once upon a time smallpox ravaged the earth. It caused blindness. It deformed children.  It killed 300–500 million people during the 20th century. Just 32 years ago, through a combination of inoculation and education, it was eradicated.

Likewise, only 70 years ago, polio was a terrifying epidemic.  57,000 cases were reported in the U.S. that year.  In truth, more individuals died that year from cancer and tuberculosis, but public concern made polio the most feared disease. Today it has been essentially eliminated.
What role did philanthropy play?  The national campaign against polio is a good example.  Rather than appeal to wealthy benefactors, the March of Dimes invited small donations from millions of individuals.  This raised hundreds of millions and led directly to the development of vaccines.  By 1961 only 161 cases were reported in the US.

The lesson is that focused philanthropy is a powerful tool for change.   Your gifts to annual campaigns for all sorts of good causes have made America the most charitable nation on earth.   But sending a check is not the only option. Most nonprofits also welcome bequests that help them sustain their work.
Our state is home to more than 80,000 registered charities.  The combination of volunteerism and philanthropy accounts for more than half the revenue they report. Close your eyes, name an alarming issue, and you are almost certainly going to find a local or national nonprofit dedicated to addressing it.
Here’s a quick test:   Worried about Puget Sound pollution? At least seven nonprofits work on it:  Alliance for Puget Sound Shoreline; People for Puget Sound; Forterra; the Nature Conservancy; Puget Sound Restoration Fund; Puget Soundkeeper Alliance; the Trust for Public Land.  This does not count dozens of regional watershed efforts like Puget Creek Restoration Society.

In short:  pick a concern that keeps you awake.  Check the Internet to see if there’s a nonprofit focused on it.  Since big problems like that don’t disappear overnight, find out if they could use a gift in your will to support that work over the next 20 years.

Mike Robinson is Senior Vice President for Planned Giving at United Way of Pierce County.Please consult a qualified estate planner before making a gift in your will.

Family caregivers are the backbone of the American health care system with twenty-five percent of all households involved as family caregivers. Caregiving is a rigorous responsibility often resulting in burn out and feelings of being overwhelmed. Key individual skills and community resources can help caregivers keep their health, maintain their balance and sustain their work.

“Family Caregiving 2012” is an informal discussion about family caregiving and the resources, tools and skills that can help caregivers over the long term. The discussion will explore ways families construct caregiving responsibilities, how to handle the caregiver duties, the challenges most caregivers face and the resources available in Pierce County.

“Family caregivers do amazing work,” said Aaron Van Valkenburg, Manager of Pierce County Aging and Disability Resources. “People suffer chronic illnesses, have various disabilities and deal with long term conditions. Parents, spouses, children and other relatives step in to form an incredible web of support for their loved ones. It is essential that those caregivers remain healthy and stable so they can continue their work.”

“Family Caregiving 2012” is an information-only event. It is free and open to the public and will be presented by staff of Pierce County Community Connections and the partners of the Aging and Disability Resource Center. The workshop will be repeated five times:
• Jan 9 – 12:10 – 12:50 p.m.
Pierce County Annex – Main Conference Room (2401 S. 35th Street, Tacoma)
• Jan 9 – 7:00 – 8:00 p.m.
Sound Vista Village (6633 McDonald Ave, Gig Harbor)
• Jan 11 – 12:10 – 12:50 p.m.
County-City Building – Rainier Conference Room – 7th Fl. (930 Tacoma Avenue, Tacoma)
• Jan 11 – 7:00 – 8:00 a.m.
Parkland/Spanaway Library Conference Room (13718 Pacific Ave S, Tacoma)
• Jan 14 – 10:30 – 11:30 a.m.
Sumner Library Conference Room (1116 Fryar Ave., Sumner)

For more information, call the Pierce County Aging & Disability Resource Center at (253) 798-4600 or (800) 562-0332.

When you hear that there are people in the 35 percent tax bracket, you may wonder what it means. It means their annual (adjusted) gross income is $200,000 for individuals or $250,000 for couples.

For those who make a gift to a favorite charity, the 35 percent bracket also means that for every $100 they give, their taxes will be reduced by $35.
Faced with serious deficits, Congress is weighing a proposal that would cap that tax credit at $28 per $100 for wealthy individuals. There is plenty of debate about how this would affect charitable giving.

If Congress approves the cap, the Center for Philanthropy at Indiana University says it might reduce giving by 2.3 percent over the next two years. That would mean charities across the nation will receive $3-5 billion less.This concerns all nonprofit.

They worry that they will have to cut local programs succh as provide job training, home care for the elderly, or health care for the uninsured. With more than 46 million Americans living in poverty, and many federal programs also facing budget cuts, that cost-benefit seems out of whack to most non-profit leaders.

Tax brackets aside, most Americans give to charities for other reasons. It is deep in our culture, a tradition born deep in our history. When he traveled here in 1831, the French philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville noticed something remarkable. Americans, he said, never turn their backs on a neighbor in need. He saw people helping each other recover from floods, fires and other disasters.

Since Tocqueville’s visit, Americans have become more artful in the way they give. Today, many donors—even those not in the 35 percent bracket—aim their gifts at specific needs, and most nonprofits, from food banks to museums to job training programs, will welcome your questions about that idea.

Mike Robinson is Senior Vice President for Planned Giving at United Way of Pierce County. Please consult a qualified tax attorney before making a charitable gift.

By Sally O’Kane McClintock

“Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, lavender’s green, when I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen.”

Singing my song, I picked a handful of lavender that was overflowing onto the sidewalk by the picket fence a block from my home. “Call up your men, dilly dilly, fetch them from work,” I continued.

I was so immersed in the lavender that I failed to notice a van pulling up in the driveway.

“Would you like me to get you some scissors?” I looked up to see a man calling from the van. “It would make it a lot easier,” he added.

“Oh no, thank you,” I said hastily, leaving in embarrassment.  I couldn’t tell whether he was being helpful or sarcastic. His tone of voice suggested the latter.

He owned the lavender, but the lavish rows spreading into the sidewalk surely invited picking. I felt uncomfortable as I hurried home with my bouquet. The flowers were planted there for passersby to enjoy and admire, I reflected, but it was not proper to pick them without permission.  But the sun and rain we all share had helped the garden grow.

Owning and sharing can be confusing at times.  I have always felt my clothesline is my own special territory, whether in a backyard, a rooftop, or up above a brook. When I hang out my laundry, wherever it is, I am in my own private space, harnessing the sun and the wind.  Rarely has this space of mine been “invaded.” But once on a camping trip where I attached a clothesline from tree to tree near our campsite, I recall how annoyed I was to find a neighboring camper’s laundry hanging on my line. I owned the clothesline, but couldn’t I willingly share the wind and the sun?

Can you own a place at the table? Some people think so. My father told me that when he moved alone to San Francisco, he went to a church dinner “for some socializing,” as he put it.  But when he brought his plate to a table, instead of being welcomed, he was told, “This seat’s taken.” At table after table, he received the same greeting until finally he found an unclaimed seat in a corner. A sort of musical chairs without the music. So much for hospitality.  But it didn’t seem to bother him. He even found this amusing, at least in the telling.

Contrary to my father’s attitude when denied a seat at the table, I couldn’t find the humor when it happened to me.   The afternoon had begun in a pleasant way. With extra time before my meeting, I stopped to rest at a nearby park, enjoying the colorful fall leaves. I sat at a picnic table and took out my lunch.  Some pigeons alighted casually nearby, keeping a polite distance while I ate my sandwich. When I left, I scattered some crumbs for them.

I was still early for the meeting when I arrived.  Usually I came when  people were already assembled around the table. This time it seemed no one was there yet. The large table was empty, no  notebooks or purses claiming places.  I chose a chair near the speaker, put down my bag and notebooks, and hung my coat on the back of the chair.  I settled in to wait for the others.

“You’re sitting in my chair,” said a member just  entering the room. Surprised, I got up and slid my notebooks and bag across the table to another empty spot while she returned to the other room.

I settled into the second chair, but then another member of the group walked in. “Why are you sitting in my chair?” Apparently I had taken her place too.  I got up and looked around for another seat. The woman next to me kindly offered her chair and took a folding chair for herself.

I looked at the group for sympathy or even  some humor.  But no one had seen how I had to move out of my seat two times in a row.  Feeling sorry for myself, I tucked away the experience for the time being.  But when I went to bed that night, I dwelled on the incident, puzzling over my sensitivity. I was sure they were unaware of my hurt feelings, so why did this bother me so much? Couldn’t I just laugh it off? Or tell them how I felt?  Instead, from then on I approached the meeting table more carefully, not unlike the cautious pigeons.

One evening when I was reading “Time and Myth” by John S. Dunne, I found solace in a philosophy that also excited me.  He wrote that one could choose to look at life either as a journey of experience, or as a series of discoveries. He quoted Hegel, the philosopher, who said that for him personally, the journey was “a voyage of discovery.”

With this view,  I decided to stop feeling sorry about my experience, and instead look for the discoveries in my life.  It’s true that I  had to give up my seats twice, and no one noticed.  But since that happened, I have made the discovery of the importance of one’s place at the table. And when I found someone else’s laundry hanging on my clothesline and I resented it so,  I am now aware of my possessiveness.  Finally, in picking someone else’s lavender without permission, I realize how casual I can be about what belongs to someone else.

Now I’m ready for more new discoveries in my life, whether negative or positive.  They will all be part of my voyage.