When I was in fourth grade, my mother entered me in a school contest (she was gently coerced by teachers) called Miss Bundle of Joy.
I was picked to represent our grade not because I was such a bundle of joy, or because I was pretty, or because I was smart. Even as a nineyear-old I was aware that I was picked to be grade representative because we had a grocery store.
The purpose of the pageant was for each representative to raise as much money or goods as they could, so that the school could donate them to the victims of a major typhoon.
On pageant night, it was announced that I came in second runnerup, losing to my first-grade cousin in who won grand prize because her father was our town mayor and had trucks of rice to donate (a sack of rice garnered more points compared to a box of noodles in the grading system), and a second-grader came in first runnerup, because her parents were not just grocery wholesalers, but regional distributors.
Being dolled up by a real makeup artist and brought to Manila for gown fittings remains one of my best childhood memories, but as an adult in a very PC world, I know now that this kind of pageant—where children and their parents are triggered to be competitive (imagine little girls in ballgowns and tiaras counting donations)—would have caused my entire school to be cancelled, and the DepEd would have been involved.
In the dark ages of my youth, a donation was a donation no matter the intent or the source. But with the advent of social media, and with globalization, our sensibilities have become fine-tuned to be more self-aware. The act of giving has acquired many different layers and nuances, because we are able to help each other from across the world, we have to be conscious of cultures, customs, and traditions that are different from ours.
If a predominantly Muslim city in Mindanao is hit by a massive typhoon and there’s a callout for secondhand clothes, it would be careless to send low cut shirts or crop tops or expletive-laden tees, or disrespectful to give donations of luncheon meat or canned sausages.
In the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami incident, many winter jackets were tossed into a heap because Thailand is a tropical country. Toys, while wellintentioned (and giving them helps you declutter your child’s room), should not be given in the immediate aftermath of a natural disaster, as the most urgent needs have to be delivered first.
While the act of giving is an act of love in itself, putting some thought into your donation ensures that your items will reach the intended recipients and that it will truly help them in their time of great need.
Ask: “What is a cause closest to your heart?”
When a massive natural disaster strikes, entire communities may stop functioning. During Yolanda, my home province of Leyte ground to a halt as no one was spared. But the world knocked on our door, and a stream of volunteers, donors, first line responders, and NGOs offered their help. Yolanda was heartbreaking in its destruction but also became a testament to the goodness of humanity. After the initial rescue-and relief efforts, donors honed in on a cause that was important to them. There were NGOs who pitched tents in Leyte whose sole purpose was medical, some to provide work for cash, others offered psychological counseling, some just for food.
In a smaller scale, you can identify which advocacy you want to give your support, because you cannot help everyone. If you are a pet lover, your money will be much needed because most donors focus on humans.
During Yolanda, my personal advocacy, one supported by friends (after the relief efforts stabilized), was to provide learning materials for children who wanted to go back to school. I partnered with a doctor friend and we devised a system where the children would line up to get their anti-tetanus shots from her before they could get the backpack of school goodies from me. Many resentful looks were shot our way, but there was a mountain of debris everywhere and the threat of tetanus if they ever stepped on a nail was an ever-present possibility. In any relief effort, you can identify a gap in volunteerism which you could easily fill as it is something you are passionate about. FYI: If you’re a great cook, you will always be needed for feeding programs.
Know where your donations will go
Yolanda was the only time I went direct to beneficiaries without the need to consult LGUs, and it was because I was a local. All other relief efforts elsewhere are coursed through trusted partners like an LGU, to be distributed by military, the Coast Guard, or a trusted public servant. It is both your responsibility and your privilege to know how your donations will be distributed. When donating through a third party, demand for accountability, even if it’s from a big NGO: Where are you planning to donate these items? How do you identify people in need? Is there a way I can get an update?
Doing so will assure you that your hard-earned money or your beloved items will truly help someone. Don’t just dump your donations and forget about them—keeping a connection to the people in the field provides you a feeling of community, and also helps everyone in the chain of donation get reminded about accountability.
Put yourself in the shoes of your beneficiaries
There is no such thing as a small donation, really. People apologize when they give two packs of instant coffee because that’s all they could afford, not realizing that’s 24 people in evacuation centers who’d appreciate it. While there is no small donation, there are “wrong” donations, like three-inch heels and old gowns. If you were stuck in an evacuation center for a week or two, what do you wish you had more of? I would be so scared to run out of feminine pads if I were living in such close proximity to strangers. It’s a good idea to add them in donation bags, because these are things not many donors consider. (As an aside, please if you can, buy local brands like Sisters, as you also help our economy.) `
Relief, rescue, and rehabilitation—know where you jump in
Many people have a misconception that relief goods are the be-all and endall of helping disaster zones. But truly helping a community back on its feet, especially one that has been very badly hit, requires long-term commitment. The relief-and-rescue effort is the immediate phase. That’s when we urgently need food, shelter, clothing. The rehabilitation phase is one that quietly persists months or years after, when everyone has already moved on and forgotten about the disaster.
This is the “rebuilding lives” chapter. If you would like to help with rehabilitation efforts to revive a community, you can choose which to focus on: Will it be in housing construction and repair? As an ordinary citizen, your options include choosing one family to help, volunteering with Habitat for Humanity, or donating to a special fund for housing repairs.
Are you more inclined to do livelihood restoration? You can focus on providing job opportunities and training to those affected by the disaster for certain jobs; offering microfinancing grants like financial assistance to farmers and fishermen, or to entrepreneurs to restart their businesses.
You can also volunteer to work on environmental rehabilitation like spearheading reforestation, coastal protection, or rebuilding mangrove projects.