Why You Should Stop Donating -- And Volunteering -- Now

A journalist friend of mine recently posted a great video by Good Intentions that brilliantly highlights why we should all stop donating our used clothes to international charities.


I love this video mainly because it does what I try to do every day: turn complex issues into compelling messages that stick and spread like wildfire.

But I also loved this video because it speaks to me as a writer and journalist. It's becoming increasingly difficult for people who are skilled and talented at their craft to make a living wage off their years of hardwork. Not that anyone goes into writing with the expectation of being a billionaire, but the plethora of "citizen journalists" and Craiglist writers willing to write for $15/hour is forcing those of us with years in the trade to justify rates that would allow us to eat, keep a roof over our heads and pay for vital necessities like healthcare and retirement plans.

It's only with the advent of social entrepreneurship that people have begun to believe that, perhaps, we can have an economy that rewards people for doing good--isn't that the best way to get more people to do good, afterall? But writers and journalists seem to be excluded from this social enterprise movement, even though we provide a vital function, especially my non-fiction breathren.

As a writer, it's important to me and my conscience that I write about things that matter in a way that respects readers. But this year, I've been forced to write for a company that markets products through lifestyle articles (with no mention of their advertorial nature) just to pay the bills. Every day it eats away at me, but every time I pitch nonprofits AND social enterprises, for that matter, I'm asked if I'll work for free like the rest of their volunteers (i.e., slave writing labor).

Wouldn't it be nice if all writers stood in solidarity and simply refused to write for free anymore? Would you join me?

MyLARC Update: The Approach

So I was talking to a friend about my experiences with online dating, and strangely enough, I found myself saying, "I actually do want to learn how to write that first message to someone you meet online. It's definitely an art form, and as a writer, I'm just interested in knowing how to do it."

Now, I never consciously thought of writing an introductory message on an online dating site as an art form, but here's why it is:

*Unlike a business introduction, it MUST be short. Anything more than 3 sentences is a monologue that makes you come off as a self-important bore

*It must be breezy but not stupid. So less formal than an Jane Austen letter, but with the appropriate use of capital letters, i.e., do not write "i'm really impressed w/ ur profile"

*It must not be lame or stalker-like. And while this is relatively easy for me to avoid in real-life, it's actually quite hard online. Mainly because a person's profile can give you a lot of clues and info about a person, but it's still stalker-like to open cold with what you read about them. And personally, I try not to be witty in e-mails to people I've never met--if they don't know the cadence of my voice, there's a high chance they'll misinterpret what I'm saying.

Perhaps you'd like some examples of failed approaches I've received:

TOO FORMAL AND TOO INFORMAL:
"sorry for bothering you. I am new to this so wanted to give it a try. I came across your profile so thought to message you.
I am tall white good looking from doctor from Pakistan currently here for my interviews in different hospitals. I was bored so thought to explore few things here. If you are interested kindly reply"
Also, I personally think that calling yourself white when you're from Pakistan is a possible sign of some serious self-hate.

TOO LONG AND TOO FLIPPANT:
"...think you're absolutely adorable. And I'd like to
get to know you better.

Who am I?

Hmm....I was born in England, have lived in
Brooklyn, Queens, Long Island, Los Angeles and now
NYC. I work in NYC as well.

After discovering the cure for cancer, I climbed Mt.
Everest (without supplemental oxygen), studied with
the Dalai Lama, and dated (briefly) Cindy Crawford.

My career as a Yankees third baseman was going
nowhere, and rather than accept the grant from the
Salk Institute, I went to work at a television
network in New York.

And you?

Please write back because it would put a smile on my face."

TOO OBVIOUS:
"how are you? so, did you find anyone interesting here yet? "
AND
"So how is this whole okcupid thing working out for you?"
It's a bit like asking a girl at a bar, "So how do you like the single's scene?" Best not bring attention to the elephant in the room just yet. Maybe after 2 dates.

If any of these have made you gringe, then I need your help! Clearly, there's a need for someone to market-test how to effectively approach guys online. Send me your opening lines, and I'll test the top 3 on some of the hottest guys on the site to see what kind of a response they get overall.

Just add your best opening lines to the comments box below.

My Life As a Romantic Comedy (MLARC) update

So I had a blind date last night. I thought it went well enough (meaning, I wasn't completely repulsed by the idea of kissing him but wasn't so inclined to do so either).

We decided to meet at Ayza. Funnily enough, my co-worker told me just before leaving that she was heading there to meet a friend. We decided it would be best to act like we didn't know about each other's plans if we saw each other. So when I got there and settled down at the bar, she didn't say anything when she saw me, assuming maybe I was pretending I didn't see her. In all honesty, I didn't.

So I talked to blind date guy for about an hour, and had to cut it a bit short because I had an important meeting today to prep for. We end the night by putting on our coats and he asks where I'm headed. He says he's headed in the other direction, and that he's just going to go to the restroom before taking off. Which is fine by me. I'm a big girl and don't need him to walk me to the bus stop. So I take off.

But then this morning, I come in to work and my co-worker starts giving me crap for not seeing her. THEN she says, "Yeah, he stayed for about an hour talking to another girl at the bar."

Which makes me laugh out loud. Cuz honestly, I never thought of placing spies at a date spot, but now see the strategic importance of it. After all, a modern woman has to know how to do good reconnaissance.

My Life as a Romantic Comedy

I recently signed up for OKCupid, mainly because I heard about it on NPR, and while I hate dating, I was encouraged by the idea of meeting other people who actually listen to NPR. That being said, I'm really hoping I don't meet anyone promising, as it would disallow me to use the site as a source of comic fodder. And let me tell you, it's rich with comedy. I only filled out my profile 48 hours ago, and here are some gems I've already received:

"How are you? I just saw your page and thought I'd say hi. My wife and I were hoping to meet someone cool on here and thought you were really attractive. How is your weekend going? Up to... anything fun? Anyway, hope all is well!"

What I really appreciate about this is it's breezy tone. As if trolling for a threesome partner is the most normal thing a married couple would do on a Sunday afternoon.

And then last night I missed an IM that simple said: "I will see you in my dream..."

I wish there was an emoticon for being creeped out. But I take comfort that Carrie Fisher (aka Princess Leia) once had a fan tell her that he thought about her every day from age 12 to 22. She asked, "Really? Every day?" And he said, "Well, 4 times a day."

(I should also note that I heard this bit when watching Fisher's one-woman show "Wishful Drinking" on HBO with my dad and had to then explain to him what that joke meant.)

And here's one that just confused me:
"hey there pather panchali, [I think he meant "panther" but I don't know why] you should answer more okc questions because your comments there are cracking me up :) Very straightforward with your opinions, arent you; its refreshing and i guess i'm the same way.
we could have some great fights :) despite being a 91% match so far. I'll bet the "3% enemy" part is a doosey ;)... You're relatively young (I think i'm looking for late 30s to be honest) but I feel like you could crush a man with your words and well I just wanted to give you some props. :) Good luck out there; and if you ever want a good argument or fight, game on as you say ;)"

Why would I want to meet someone to fight with? And when have I ever said "game on"?

Now I don't attribtue this to the Y chromosomes--my male friends have told me the ladies are just as likely to write weird stuff. So keep that in mind when you're laughing your head off at the tragic-comedy story of my love life.

The Madonna/Mother Teresa Paradox

As some of you know, I spend a lot of time trying to figure out life, despite knowing that this is probably an exercise in futility. I think about things like fate and suffering and the difference between cultures while riding the bus or looking out on the water from the ferry. This makes me piss poor at small talk, a fact proven once again last Friday night when someone in a bar challenged me to make small talk for the duration of one beer. After 5 minutes, I lost interest in the conversation and wanted to go home.

Before my bar/bored experience, I was in Borders and flipping through an interesting book I spotted, Backwards in High Heels. It's basically a manual for any woman confused about life (which I assume a large majority of us are) but decidedly anti-self-help, which makes it actually useful. As the authors (whose names I forget) brazenly state, self-help is a lie. We don't all get what we deserve, and no matter how many affirmations, or how open you are to the Universe or Abundance or whatever, it's unlikely you'll win the Nobel Peace Prize or write a Pulitzer-Prize novel or whatever fantasy we all harbor about life. But we can cheer up a friend, be kind to our co-workers and strangers, and maybe help the PTA raise some money.

A few weeks before picking up said book, I saw Men Who Stare At Goats, and they also riff on this theme of dreams v. reality. George Clooney basically tells Ewan McGregor that we all have a destiny, but it may not be what we want. Little Anne Frank wants to go to prom? Too bad. But she can write a book that moves millions for generations to come.

Most "spiritual" people (and yes, in this instance, I am using that in a derogatory manner) like to preach that "all things are possible with God" or something like that. But it occurs to me that Mother Teresa could never have been a supermodel, no matter how tight she was with the Holy One.

The realists and cynics in the world say it's all about who you know and how many resources (i.e. how much money) you have at your disposal. But poor Madonna, Queen of Material Girls, sits in her castle with all the money, power, and influence at her disposal and will probably never get nominated for an Oscar.

Which brings me to my question: How does one tell the difference between fantasy and one's true calling?

These two women have irrevocably changed the face of our planet in their own unique ways, causing worldwide movements in charity and sexual attitudes. Yet they too are limited by something--is it fate? Circumstances? Talent? Purpose?

Most of us are not meant for either sacrificial poverty or decadent wealth; the large majority of us fall within a spectrum of middle-classedness. But what if the idea of owning a home and raising kids and fundraising through a bake sale makes you shudder and want to run screaming to a far off country just so you can feel somewhat alive? What if your biggest nightmare is that you're Pam from "The Office" and the biggest event at your place of work will be your wedding? What if you really want to help humanity without living in a hut in a war zone? What if you'd rather enter into a married partnership where your focus is each others' career goals and inner callings, not raising new people to be hurt and harmed by the world?

How does one have a dream that's outside the box but not outside reality?

Why Archie Panjabi's Emmy Win Makes My Heart Sing

The first chapter of Zadie Smith's most recent book "Changing My Mind" is an eloquent essay on Zora Neale Hurston's masterpiece Their Eyes Were Watching God. (The line that opens chapter three is probably one of the most memorable in literature -- "There are years that ask questions and years that answer." But I digress.)

Smith discusses how she was hesitant to read it when her mother presented her with a copy at fourteen:
"You'll like it," her mother said.
"Why? Because she's black?"
"No, because it's really good writing."

And it is, by Smith's account (and my own). But then Smith says something more profound:
"At fourteen, I couldn't find words (or words I liked) for the marvelous feeling of recognition that came with these characters who had my hair, my eyes, my skin, even the ancestors of the rhythm of my speech. These forms of identification are so natural to white readers -- (Of course Rabbit Angstrom is like me! Of course Madame Bovary is like me!) -- that they believe themselves above personal identification, or at least believe that they are identifying only at the highest, existential levels (His soul is like my soul. He is human; I am human). White readers often believe they are colorblind."

But in reality, as Smith points out, they are just more characters written in their image, allowing them to harbor the illusion that their "like" or "dislike" of a novel is based on more esoteric factors, such as writing style, theme, or plot. They also have the benefit of white privilege, where every ethnic story is made relate-able to them (i.e., the rampant use of the word vermilion in South Asian fiction, a word I did not even know until I read it in a "New Yorker-approved" South Asian American book).

Smith then goes on to explain how Hurston creates such a complex, layered character in Janie Crawford in Their Eyes that it leaves her speechless. The book "allows me to say things I wouldn't normally," Smith writes. "Things like 'She is my sister and I love her.'"

Which is exactly what my heart sang when Archie Panjabi won the Emmy for her role in The Good Wife.

It's probably not fair to draw any parallels between a television drama, no matter how good, and canonical American literature. I admit this is somewhat pretentious on my part. But Archie Panjabi speaks so eloquently backstage after her win about the true value of being able to play a character that is proud of her heritage without being defined by it.

When people say "you can do anything you put your mind to" or believe, or whatever New Age slogan is en vogue at the time, I often want to roll my eyes and say "if you're white." As Archie Panjabi and co-star in Bend It Like Beckham, Parminder Nagra, know, the brown girl doesn't get cast in Pirates of the Caribbean or Pride and Prejudice, like their co-star Keira Knightley did, no matter how good an actress you are. So it's refreshing to see a South Asian get to play a character that's as complex and layered as Elizabeth Bennett, albeit on the small screen. I am left without words to express the marvelous feeling of recognition that bubbles up inside me when a woman with my hair and eyes and skin plays it tough and guarded, but with wit and grace. All I can say is "She is my sister and I love her."

VINTAGE POSTS: Technology Toolkit

An oldy but goody, here's my post on Wild Apricot on The Essential Technology Toolkit for Start-Up Nonprofits (Part One with a link to Part Two)