COMMENTARY | It takes strength to rely on our community; if we’re lucky, we get to give back
I’ve learned a lot about generosity over the past year. And, I guess you could say, I’ve learned it the hard way.
At 45, at the end of a five-year investment in graduate school, I was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer. Instead of heading into my new career as a speech therapist, I jumped into a year of disabling cancer treatment. And, instead of paying down student loans, my family braced itself for a whole new financial burden – expensive insurance premiums and thousands of dollars of out-of-pocket medical expenses – all while I was sick, scared and unemployed.
That’s when I started to learn about generosity.
My friends put the word out. They organized fundraisers. They started a meal train and took turns taking care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself. In every respect, I relied on my community to survive, which was both incredibly uncomfortable and deeply touching.
Before graduate school, I had worked in the nonprofit sector, including four years with Street Roots. I understood firsthand the importance of giving. The health of the organization, the vendors and the community as a whole relied on the generosity of others. I could happily pitch a new program or an expansion of services. But receiving for oneself isn’t so easy. And while I felt genuinely grateful for every check that arrived in our mailbox, I also felt the vulnerability of saying, “Yes, I will accept your help.”
So, when Israel showed up at my door with two plain white envelopes, I knew I was going to cry. And I knew I couldn’t open them in front of him. We talked. We hugged. And after he left, I sat alone in the living room of our Southeast Portland home. I opened the first envelope. It was filled with cards from the Street Roots staff and board, including some far-too-generous checks from people earning very modest salaries. I felt the increasingly familiar sense of gratitude and unease. I was so humbled by these gifts.
Then I opened the second envelope.
I pulled out a giant handful of one-dollar bills and a huge card covered with heartfelt wishes from Street Roots’ vendors. I was stunned. Some were from old, familiar faces – vendors who had been selling the paper for a long time and remembered me from my days in the Street Roots office. Some were from people I’d never met. People who wrote, “Stay strong!” and “You’re in my prayers.”
That's was when I really learned about generosity.
Here I was, sitting in a bungalow in Southeast Portland, holding a handful of one-dollar bills from people who know what it means to struggle. People who are willing to share what they have with a total stranger, just because that stranger is sick and is part of the Street Roots family.
Yeah, that’s when I started crying.
We are living in a tenuous time. Unprecedented rent increases have thrust too many Portland residents into housing instability. Wages don’t cover the cost of student debt. And many of us are one health crisis away from homelessness.
Yet, we are also part of something much bigger. We are a community that truly cares about the welfare of our Portland family. We know how to pull together, to stand up for each other, and to share what we have with those who need it.
I have always loved street newspapers and the important role they play in creating real opportunities for people facing poverty and homelessness. But I now I get it in a very personal way. It takes a lot of strength to rely on our communities for survival. Sometimes the most we can hope for is to do it with a little bit of dignity. And if we’re lucky, we get to give back. And we get to be a part of something bigger than ourselves.
That’s what it means to be part of Street Roots. So, thank you, Street Roots. Thank you for being generous with me when I needed a hand. But really, thanks for being there for all of us.
Consider a gift this year to the Street Roots or give to at the Willamette Week Give!Guide. When you give a donation of $50 or more this year you will receive a special edition Street Roots t-shirt.
Kate Cox is the former development director for Street Roots.
