Ogawd Canvassing!
I feel compelled. Well, it is a way one can contribute to one's community, society at large. Little wonder why there are so few takers. After all, you're approaching someone's sanctorum, their refuge from a sometimes-hostile and always too-busy world. Their home, their castle. Asking for - what else? - money; cash cheques, anything will do. Most people work hard for their money, their resources are finite, they have bills to pay, they feel oppressed enough as it is. If, however, they also feel a requirement to 'give back' to support these fundraising efforts for obviously worthwhile endeavours, they'll find the resources. Truth is, while I'm awfully impressed when someone is generous enough to write a cheque for $50, $100 (and I've had both on occasion) I'm also grateful to receive a lowly $2, or $4 donation. I've thanked people who have handed me four quarters as a donation - and meant it. They always say don't bother with the receipt (for charitable/tax-return purposes) but of course they get the receipt anyway.I've been canvassing for almost thirty years. First started when our oldest child, just before his 17th birthday was diagnosed with Diabetes. What did we know about diabetes? We learned - fast. It was devastating. Thus began my commitment to canvassing strangers for funds to support research and support services for diabetes. It soon extended to include the Canadian Cancer Society's drive, that of the Heart and Stroke Foundation, Cystic Fibrosis, Canadian National Institute for the Blind, the Arthritis Society - and more.
I learned odd things. That, among other things, people can be kind, they can be cruel to those hesitating at their door stoop, introducing themselves, their missions, asking for funding. Some people genuinely express their appreciation for what you're doing (they're the ones who recognize the need, but know they couldn't themselves face going out to canvass); others are purely resentful of your intrusion (for such it is) and let you know it. Oddly, some people pour their hearts out to you, let you glimpse their anguish related to a loved one being diagnosed and treated, for example, with cancer. But they decline to give. Square that. I've had people accuse me of collecting funds and disposing of the funds for my very own use. That one, early in my dreaded canvassing career sent me into a tizzy resulting in tears (of no practical use to anyone). Others will complain that I don't respond in the affirmative when I'm asked if I speak French. They expect, they lecture me, to be addressed in French if someone comes to their door. I offer Yiddish? No, they want French; no English, no Yiddish but it's the best I can do. Huff and puff. That's the reality of the English/French divide-and-resent in Canada.
The even odder element to this ongoing experiment in human behaviour is the realization that while communities are recognized to share characteristics (as, for example, cities being known for certain mass behavioural virtues or lack thereof) so too do streets. Is it a virus that affects people who mass together? Is it an example of aggregate values being demonstrated? Beats me. But I knows it when I sees it. And see it I do. Repeatedly, in various venues over the years.
Take for example the street on which we now live. A middle-class neighbourhood, a mix of single-family homes, townhomes and semis. The street can be bisected; upper half, lower half. [Although, in the past, in other geographical areas that bisection was also recognized as one side (even numbered) or the other (odd-numbered).] On 'my' street, I can be assured that the upper half residents will welcome my call, thank me for coming, and reward me (often very handsomely) with donations. This by no means indicates that all home-owners are prepared to give, but most do. The bottom half of the street is the reverse behaviour-wise; I'm viewed with suspicion, as are the causes and I come away with scant few donations. So, why is this? Beats me.
I know that we are over-taxed, over-canvassed, bothered to death by mail solicitations, telephone solicitations, and (shudder) door-to-door canvassers. But, guess what? It doesn't really cost anything much to offer civil contact, as opposed to the chill of a rudely abrupt refusal. Having said which, unless I encounter truly egregious incivility, I can relate to the very real annoyance of being disturbed within one's home for a purpose that may happen to be personally unwelcome.
And I still detest canvassing door-to-door. I'm ever so glad that the canvass for the Canadian Cancer Society has now been concluded. (All I've left to do is the completing paperwork, and add up the total donations.) And I'm wondering whether the CNIB volunteer will remember to deliver a canvass kit to me for the month of May. Ugh!
posted by Pieface @ Saturday, April 30, 2005
<< Home