San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
It’s time again for the Untied Way
An Untied Way volunteer will give you money if you ask for it. Thus, you can’t cheat an Untied Way volunteer.
This year we at the Untied Way (and when I say “we,” I mean “me,” since the Untied Way has no officers, no offices, no employees, no budget and no marketing strategies) are fortunate to have the federal government helping us define the essence of our message.
As you’ll recall, after the Pretty Big Earthquake, FELINE (the Federal Extremely Languid Institution of Nugatory Efforts) rushed right in to provide solace and bucks to people who qualified as Official Earthquake Victims with a problem above the Official Difficulty Threshold.
Problems unrelated to the earthquake did not count; earthquake problems that you thought were pretty bad but weren’t bad enough also didn’t count. Forms were filled out; evaluations were made according to criteria. The result was as fair as anything in life, which is to say, not fair at all.
At the Untied Way, we have no criteria. There’s nothing like an absence of criteria to cut through paperwork. Without criteria, evaluations are not possible. Without evaluations, there can be no Official Victims.
One way of looking at it is that we are all Official Victims; some of us are just richer than others. If we try to sort through the levels of despair, we are playing God; if we decide to accept all selfreported despair as valid, we are playing human. Generally, humans get into less trouble when they play human.
An Untied Way volunteer will give you money if you ask for it. Thus, you can’t cheat an Untied Way volunteer.
How Does It Work? Most people these days have access to an ATM machine. Go to your ATM machine and draw out a sum of money that is large enough so that you will notice its absence but small enough so that its loss will not cause suffering at home.
Put the crisp $20 bills in your pocket or purse and walk to a place where there are people in such reduced circumstances that they are forced to ask strangers for money. If your town is fortunate enough not to have such people, or cruel enough to have required its authorities to remove these people from your vision, go someplace that does have mendicants. Downtown San Francisco is always a good bet, if nothing else occurs to you. It might be inconvenient or uncomfortable to walk the cold, crowded streets of the city, but you will not be the most inconvenienced or uncomfortable person there. When someone asks you for money, give him or her a $20 bill. Continue walking until someone else asks you for money. Repeat the process. Continue walking and giving until you run out of the $20 bills. That is the Untied Way.
Be aware that reactions to your gift may vary. Some will smile and say, “God bless you” and make you feel like Bob Cratchit on Christmas morning, but others may say, “Television television snail snail snail” and burrow more deeply into their coats. Charity does not always impress the charitee.
Also be aware that some of the money you give out will be unwisely spent. Some people will use your $20 bill to buy poisons that aggravate diseases from which they are already dying. That is unfortunate, but it is the thesis of the Untied Way that foolish behavior does not disqualify a person from compassion.
Think of it as private-sector socialism. Think of it as redistribution of wealth without administrative overhead. Think of it as honoring the spark of grace in another human being, and thus honoring the spark of grace in yourself.
This column originally appeared in The San Francisco Chronicle on Dec. 12, 1989.