Thursday, January 29, 2015


First of all, I will be sure to convey to Lacy your comments about her letter. She does have fabulous handwriting, doesn't she? Jealous.

Jane sat down with me today and went over the gist of their program financials. Sobering. My estimates weren't that far off, but they were low.  We had a great discussion about the tension between starting a bare bones program and struggling versus trying to drum up enough funding to start properly and hit the ground with resources. They started out very bare bones and it was iffy for several years which nearly wore Jane and Emily out (and there's two of them). She's encouraging me to secure a fairly high minimum amount of funding before I launch, especially as I'm looking to operate in a more expensive city. It's advice I'm taking seriously.

Anyway, these are all details that are probably not that interesting to you, but it's where my head is at these days. It's a weird head space, actually. I live with Dad and Elizabeth who, despite all they have, are often fixated on what they don't have - the 'sacrifices' they make.  Elizabeth wanted to get a new, bigger table for the dining room to allow for bigger dinner parties, and she made a point of showing me the table she had fallen in love with ($12,000) and telling me she wasn't going to buy it, given our 'situation'.  On the one hand, it's progress that she is voluntarily realizing she shouldn't be bleeding money we don't have - yay, but on the other hand - does anyone ever need to spend $12,000 on a table?

It's going to be a real struggle to raise funding to start my program, I know this.  And this for a program that tries to address a basic aspect of education for youth in our city - a wealthy city in a wealthy country. And I live with people who think $12,000 for a table, and $5000 for a living room chair are reasonable ways to spend money.

I'm looking forward to getting my own, modest, place again (a long way off still). I live between two worlds right now and it's jarring.  I spend my afternoon with kids who generally come from poor families who get excited about the fun, book-filled space that Jane and Emily have created because they don't have any books at home.  Then I come home to this lavish townhouse with Dad and Elizabeth or I go to social events full of wealthy people who spend more on flowers to decorate their hallways than some people make in a year.  

I guess I'm struggling to find my place in this messed up world, like everyone else.


  1. I know how you feel (aside from living among wealthy people, that is). I struggle to find that balance of enjoying my own life while spreading the resources I'm fortunate enough to have around to those who weren't as lucky in life's lottery. How do I justify a beach vacation when someone in the world doesn't have access to clean water to drink? :(

    1. Glad I''m not alone in this... I used to feel guilty about vacations too (it's been a while since I've been on one)!