Channel Kindness

by Born This Way Foundation Reporters

  After watching him change over the years from that happy kid who felt included in everything to feeling constantly depressed and isolated, Sarah grew more and more frustrated. “You’re right,” she said. “It was unfair. For twins born two minutes apart with a lot in common, the difference in our lives was huge. I was in strong academic classes, I had friends, I had sports and activities, and I was happy. Seeing that I had all of that and he didn’t made me angry and made me want to change it.”

  Wow, I thought, that’s how to deal with anger—choose to channel it into action to change the status quo. But how?

  “My goal from the start,” Sarah explained, “was to create something that would change things not only for Jacob but also for other kids who struggle with isolation and not having any friends.” She began with the awareness that students usually make friends through academic classes, sports, and after-school organizations. That same year in the ninth grade, when she was still only thirteen years old, Sarah struck upon the idea of an “inclusion club”—one that would welcome all individuals with different talents and abilities. She hoped such a club could give Jacob the chance to connect with other students.

  Sarah sincerely believed that if other kids knew Jacob in the way she knew him, they would love to be his friend.

  “I have always seen Jacob for who he really is,” she said. “He loves to play the Wii, he’s smart, he has an incredible sense of humor, he loves Harry Potter, he loves any action-adventure movie, he loves to color, he loves to be with people, and he loves when people challenge him to be the greatest version of himself.”

  Her model for creating a new club was partly inspired by some of the unified sports programs run by Special Olympics that pair students with disabilities with those who are not disabled. Sarah’s concept for inclusion was to go beyond athletics by connecting people with one another for the purpose of creating friendships. When she presented her idea to officials at Special Olympics, they loved and supported her vision. Soon after, she created a Score A Friend club model to be used in schools for students of all ages, from elementary to college.

  In a short amount of time, Score A Friend—born to promote and support the inclusion of students of all abilities in schools and communities—became a reality. On the day back in 2014 when I first met Sarah, I was amazed to learn how her idea had been embraced by school administrators and students alike. She described to me how members worked together to address issues impacting students and to find ways to advocate for them. Members could interact with one another in unified sports and unified elective courses, as well as team up with organizations that offer opportunities for community service. Not only were the clubs building inclusive friendships; they were also creating a wave of activists.

  Sometimes great ideas by young idealists can gain traction only to lose momentum down the road. Not so for Score A Friend, and I was glad to hear it after recently touching base with Sarah. What started out as a way to channel her anger into something positive—with the goal to simply find her brother a friend—has now snowballed into a much larger, lifelong mission.

  “To me, helping others is by far the most fulfilling thing anyone can do,” Sarah told me. “Anyone can make a difference, even if it is just one small act.”

  In many ways, these clubs highlight the pure kindness and acceptance that many people long for.

  “Inclusion to me is just walking up to someone and being yourself,” Sarah said. “Being inclusive is having a human connection without placing judgments before it.” At nineteen years old, she had concluded that inclusion, friendship, and kindness all go hand in hand.

  Her example has shown me what it means to be a good friend—being there for someone, getting to know them for who they truly are, never judging, and being both kind and honest. I’ll never forget Sarah’s other insights, that

  * * *

  “Being a kind and respectful friend includes opening your mind to other perspectives, pushing yourself to understand someone else even if you haven’t experienced the same things, and committing yourself to being there in a supportive capacity.”

  * * *

  As for the club Sarah created, Score A Friend is now a nonprofit with chapters undergoing development all across the United States. It is an organization that channels all the possibilities that kindness and community can bring about.

  One of those possibilities is that a lonely young girl with Down syndrome might Score A Friend for life. After all, that’s what happened with me and my now-best friend, Sarah Greichen.

  Hanna, thank you for sharing your best friend with us! I am so moved by Sarah’s comment that she wanted to improve Jacob’s circumstances, of course, and I’m also incredibly touched that she wanted to make sure that no one else ever felt isolated or lonely. This is true about each and every young person I’ve had the pleasure of meeting—they want to solve problems for themselves, for their friends, and for people they would never, ever meet. Sarah’s vision for Score A Friend is beautiful, hopeful, and kind—just as she is—and I’m elated to hear of the club’s growth. For more information on how to build a more inclusive community, check out Score A Friend or Best Buddies International, and don’t forget to commit to inclusiveness by signing the Special Olympics Inclusion Pledge!

  5

  THE KINDNESS OF OFFERING ACCESS

  TAYLOR M. PARKER

  * * *

  no matter how unfair or discouraging the world may seem at certain points, kindness is actually abundant at all times

  * * *

  By way of introduction, my name is Taylor M. Parker and, as of this writing, I’m a college student at Indiana University–Purdue University Indianapolis (IUPUI). Everyday philanthropist is the best term to describe what I do and why I care.

  There are many areas of the community in which I serve. One area in particular is a concern I’m most passionate about. Whenever I’m asked what it was that sparked my interest, I usually respond, “I don’t know if there was any one specific experience that made me realize people deserve humanity.”

  That answer lies at the heart of why I am most passionate about my work as a menstrual hygiene access activist.

  Let’s face it: Given the social stigma, conversation around the need for menstrual hygiene access is essentially nonexistent. To some, merely speaking about menstruation in a public setting is viewed as radical or even taboo; to others who may simply be unaware of the need in the first place, the subject is still seen as TMI.

  This is the climate in which my passion grows. After all, is it really Too Much Information to talk about the cost associated with menstrual hygiene products, or to ask, for example, Did you know that, for every person who menstruates, the cost is at the very least $7 a month? If you do the math and extend that to $84 a year for forty years (the average length a person will menstruate), then you’re talking about thousands of dollars—an expense far too many cannot afford.

  If even that seems hard to imagine, almost all of us who menstruate, regardless of our age, can recall that feeling of panic we had, or a friend has had, when we, or they, forgot to bring a tampon “just in case” that day. Now imagine living with that fear—always. That is the reality for people all around us—coworkers, classmates, friends, and family. More often than not, the people directly impacted by this inaccessibility will not bring up their plight in everyday conversation; they will struggle in silence.

  Those who do bravely speak out on this issue are often overlooked and pushed aside, most of the time because of the unfortunate fact that people are generally uncomfortable with the topic.

  There was a time, I admit, when I took access for granted. Early in 2015, however, during my junior year of high school, that changed when I was approached by a friend after class who asked, “Do you have five dollars you can spare for me to buy a box of tampons?”

  As someone who had already gained a reputation for being an approachable, open-minded advocate for other students, I was quick to say, “Absolutely,” an
d I bought her a box—only for her to come to me again a month later with the same request.

  This time my friend confided in me, providing more context for her situation. Her father, her family’s only source of income, had been laid off, and her family couldn’t afford groceries, let alone tampons for her and the other women in her household.

  In a position to help, each month I continued to buy menstrual products for her and her other family members—until her dad found another job and the family was able to get back on its feet. In the meantime, I became awakened to economic inequalities in so many communities, leading me to see just how pervasive the need was—and how inaccessible these very necessary products are.

  Claire Coder, the founder of Aunt Flow—a for-profit company that stocks business and school bathrooms with freely accessible 100% organic cotton tampons and pads—said it best when she stated, “Menstrual products are not a luxury. Yet, they are not covered by food stamps or WIC (Women, Infants and Children program), and are taxed in many states. No one should ever be forced to choose between food and tampons.”

  * * *

  As obvious as those points might seem, from the moment my eyes were opened to the urgency of the issue, I was also confronted with the challenge of getting past the social stigma surrounding menstruation. Without conversation, how else could others’ eyes be opened?

  Flash forward to November 5, 2017, about two and a half years after my friend first approached me with her predicament. It was on that night, as I stood outside of Bankers Life Fieldhouse in Indianapolis, Indiana, watching excited ticket holders arrive for a Lady Gaga concert that I witnessed the answer to my question.

  In planning my first large-scale menstrual product drive, I had been given the support of Lady Gaga’s Born This Way Foundation, along with that of Peace First—a nonprofit dedicated to helping young people around the world become powerful and effective peacemakers. When next puzzling over how to get the word out about the drive, I’d been blown away to hear from executives at the venue and at mega-promoter Live Nation. They told me that, a week before the concert, they would share my mission on media channels and include a call to action for fans and ticket holders; they could get involved by bringing a donation to the concert.

  And that’s how you create conversation—you get informed, become an advocate, engage partners, and, hopefully, inspire others. Clearly, there is power in numbers when it comes to tackling social stigmas. That said, I had no idea how our best-laid plans would turn out.

  The response was unbelievable! I will never forget the thrill of watching thousands of excited fans stride up to our drop-off table with handfuls, armfuls, bags, and boxes of donations. What had begun as a small purchase of one box of tampons between friends grew into a massive collection that yielded upward of six thousand menstrual products—on that night alone.

  Before the newly inspired activists hurried off, I had the chance to ask some of them, “What motivated you to donate to this drive?” The responses varied:

  “I know how scary it is not to have these when I need them. I want to help someone.”

  “I didn’t realize this was an issue, but I knew I had to do something about it when I found out.”

  Most of the answers were similar … although one was pretty unique:

  “I would do anything for Gaga, and if she tells me to give, I’ll give. She knows what she’s about. She knows kindness.”

  * * *

  In those moments of connecting to fans with big hearts from all backgrounds, there were more than a few lessons for me, including the truth that no matter how unfair or discouraging the world may seem at certain points, kindness is actually abundant at all times.

  Over the next several days, I saw further proof of why it matters when celebrities use their massive platforms to raise awareness about issues that are being ignored. Thanks to the involvement of Born This Way and Peace First, we were able to collect and give away more than 6,700 menstrual hygiene products and 450 clothing items to be distributed to students in need, specifically low income, LGBTQ+, and women students on our campus. Our drive also directly benefited more than a hundred IUPUI students, faculty, and staff. On the IUPUI campus, I’m keeping the momentum going, connecting to other campuses to ignite an advocacy campaign around the country.

  Yes, it’s not easy to get the conversation going at first, but there are numerous ways you can take action to get involved. For starters, you might contact your local homeless and women’s shelters to learn about their donation process and how you can make menstrual hygiene access a reality for the people they serve.

  If you don’t have the means to donate, spread the word to your friends and family and simply broach the subject.

  If you are matter-of-fact, informed, and compassionate, your concern about lack of access can become contagious. Learn about the problem. Give to those in need. Share the passion with others. Support those also doing the work.

  There’s always a way to help others gain access, whatever their obstacles and regardless of what resources you may or may not have, and there’s always an opportunity to channel kindness—through the smallest efforts that enrich your life as much as they do others’.

  My prediction is that once you choose to become an everyday philanthropist, you will never look back.

  The term everyday philanthropist is everything, Taylor. How much better would our world be if people thought about how to meet others’ needs, every day? I didn’t know that the cost of menstruation is at least $7 per month—what a privilege it is to never have had to think about that cost; everyone deserves that peace of mind. We’re so appreciative of Taylor for recognizing a need in their community and organizing their peers around a cause that made such a significant difference in the lives of hundreds of individuals. We encourage you to follow Taylor’s lead and start your own drive, and if you or someone you know is in need of menstrual products or would like to donate menstrual products, please visit PERIOD or call 211, a free, confidential referral and information helpline.

  6

  HAVING CAKE AND SHARING IT, TOO

  HANA MANGAT

  Whenever we hear impressive stories about social entrepreneurs who channel kindness by creating a start-up enterprise aimed at solving social problems or effecting social change, often the assumption is that they’ve come up with an original idea that no one’s ever developed before. The truth is that, in order to channel kindness, you don’t have to reinvent the wheel or do something that’s totally original.

  You can always join in someone else’s movement and, if you want, add your own twist. You can always take a page out of someone else’s book and write your own version.

  In 2015, that’s exactly what fifteen-year-old Allison Wachen and her brother Robert of Montgomery County, Maryland, decided to do. Allison, a high school student at the time, happened to be flipping through a magazine when an article about a national charity called Birthday Cakes 4 Free (BC4F) caught her attention. The story about this nonprofit inspired Allison to start her own local chapter. She loved the basic mission of volunteer groups in every community getting together to “bake, decorate, and deliver free birthday cakes for financially and socially disadvantaged children and seniors.”

  The part of the article that really grabbed Allison was its recognition that, no matter what the scope of the birthday celebration, time-old tradition gives us this one day every year when we experience the magical combination of candles being blown out and the singing of a familiar melody as we wish for whatever our hearts desire. She hadn’t realized before learning of BC4F how many people, young and old, lack the resources or capacity to have a birthday cake of their own on their special day. That just didn’t sit right with her.

  Starting a local chapter made all the sense in the world to Allison. It was a perfect way, she thought, to combine her baking talent with her passion for community service. Better yet, when her younger brother Robert expressed an interest in getting on board as her chapter cofounder
and vice president of technology, and their cousin Sawyer asked to help, too, she was even more energized by the family fun to be had. They went to work immediately to get BC4F of Montgomery County off the ground—for children of every age.

  HANA MANGAT

  * * *

  Once their friends heard about the endeavor, they happily volunteered. Allison began by organizing cake-baking and -decorating socials once a month with kids from the local middle school and high school. She was so impressed by their commitment that she decided to make the organization completely student-run—from the executive board on down.

  That’s how Allison took a page from something others had started, added her own twist, and wrote her own version.

  In a little over two years, as Allison later told reporters from ABC News, her chapter’s membership went from a sprinkling of kids to more than four hundred members. They went from delivering ten cakes a month to a hundred. Today, out of the sixty-four chapters across the United States, BC4F of Montgomery County, Maryland, is the largest and only student-run chapter in the country.

  None of it happened overnight. Allison recalls that people initially assumed that, because it was a youth-driven organization just starting out, they might not be so organized. That changed once they got a few takers and word of mouth spread rapidly about how delicious and beautiful the cakes were and, more importantly, how joyful their donated birthday cakes made the recipients and their guests feel. Along with that reputation for excellence came word-of-mouth about how well-organized they actually were.

  As her chapter’s cofounder and president, Allison has long encouraged her volunteers to decorate each cake as its own individual work of art. Her familiar refrain is “Make this cake as if you were giving it to someone in your family.”