It’s true that I’m a hoarder.
I can’t help it.
But when we went in the basement and realized that my kids’ old clothing is taking up a space that would be better served as a playroom for them, I got to thinking.
I wanted to donate my kids’ old clothes, but I had no idea where I could bring them. I was looking for a charity that donates the clothes right in the neighborhood, and not a for-profit business or a charity that takes the clothes and gives them to people halfway across the world.
There is poverty right in our backyards! Literally! The street behind ours has a ton of Section 8 housing, and there are many families that could use some help. But I don’t know them personally.
I found a good answer. There’s a charity called the Assertive Kids Foundation. They take used kids clothes. So if you’re looking for a Staten Island clothes donation place, this is it.
This charity is different. They actually take photos and show you where your kids clothes went. And, sometimes, you even get to see pictures of the children receiving the clothes. That is rewarding, and I know it also helps prevent fraud.
I think that if we all chip in and try harder to end poverty, it can happen. Poverty can be a thing of the past. I know that if every person donated their old clothes instead of just throwing them away, that would be a good start.
I have a story. My Mom was on vacation with her parents. My grandfather wanted his kids to see what poverty was like firsthand. And so, on the way to Florida driving by car, he and his family stopped at a town in Alabama. My Mom said that they met a family that worked at a local kitchen, and they made friends. The difference was, the kids had shoes with holes in them, the kids didn’t have many toys, and their home was a shack.
If the United Nations Ending Poverty Program meets its goal, poverty will become a thing of the past. But think about it: If we all took the time to help those local people in our own communities, life would improve for us all.
Getting back to my story about my Grandfather, he gifted the family with his own suitcase of clothes for the Dad. My Grandfather had also secretly packed a large bag full of kids clothes, as he had this planned for a while.
The family was in tears, and were very grateful. The recipients were not people of color, but poverty is color-blind. I think the story went that my Mom and her family spent the entire day at their home, and learned lot about poverty in the 1970s.
Now we live in Staten Island, but my Mom grew up in Brooklyn. Her family was Jewish and Italian, and most of her relatives worked hard and seemed to look down on the poor. Her Dad showed everyone how it was done. He didn’t do it for personal glory or to impress his kids. He simply wanted his children to understand that poverty was gripping the Nation, and the only solution was to stop judging and lend a helping hand.
My Grandfather made sure his kids understood that although the family’s breadwinner worked an 80 hour week, the family still lived in a shack with a bathroom, as well as one giant room that served as a kitchen, dining room, and bedroom for both parents and kids.
Image from Parij Borgohain
Dance Or Die Forever 