Is it just me, or does anyone else feel stalked this month?
My grocery store has pink ribbons on price tags everywhere. I am asked if I want to give a dollar to "cure breast cancer". I find the script degrading. If I say "no", then the implication is that I don't give a damn about curing breast cancer. I am an insensitive soul. Who can't afford to give a dollar?
The last time I went through the line, the cashier glared at me when I declined the script. Maybe she has survived breast cancer. I have a brother in a wheelchair with a brain tumor. He needs my dollar. His tumor does not warrant the funding which breast cancer receives.
On Tuesday of next week a large box will await the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. In the box, some of the most expensive and gently worn clothing in my closet. There is the suit that I wore twice. I purchased it to speak at an event at the Park Cities Club in Dallas. I then wore it to a general meeting, when serving as the 2nd vice president of my local MOAA chapter. Expensive shoes with nice heels have made their way into the box. The LLS always calls with a supplication for any clothing or household items for pick up. Susan G. Komen has the feel of arm-twisting.
I see pink ribbons everywhere. I am tired of the media and market saturation.
I believe in direct hand-off charity. There are no administrative or advertisement costs attached to what I give to those in need.
Breast cancer has sufficient funding. What about childhood asthma? What about little kids with eye tumors? What about funding for strokes, spinal cord injury research or traumatic brain research?
I did give a dollar the other day. My favorite cashier informed me that she receives gift cards if she secures the top donations for her store. I love my cashier. So I gave a dollar. But I am going to add to the script next time I shop. I will loudly proclaim: "My brother is a brain cancer survivor. Would you like to give a dollar to help him?" I await the stunned silence.
Tammy Swofford
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