Last Thursday I posted an entry titled, “Why the Non-Profit Model Does Not Work.” I admitted in parentheses that this post was a rant, and stating such gives me full right to complain – whine like a baby even. But my frustration that led to writing that post was far more than simple whining. A conversation I had that day struck a deep chord for me and erupted a volcano of anger. This conversation was with the “marketing and community relations specialist” at a Whole Foods Market in SE Portland. To clarify the emotions, let me tell you a story.
On December 22, 2009 The Oregonian (a local newspaper) published a blurb about my upcoming cooking class. The days following the release of the article brought me a slew of wonderful emails, many from individuals across Portland who wanted to donate kitchen supplies for the class. Some of the emails went beyond a simple donation. For example, several people wanted to volunteer (and these folks are now doing so) with the class. One woman made a gracious donation which helped pay for the resource binders. And of great surprise to me, I also received an email from the ‘marketing specialist and community relations’ person at a Whole Foods Market.
Now, when I received all of these emails I was blown-away by all the positive responses. It is truly profound to experience the graciousness of others, especially complete strangers. But for some reason, hearing from a Whole Foods employee really blew my lid. If you know of Whole Foods Market, you know that this corporation is HUGE. Whole Foods is “the world’s largest retailer of organic and natural foods, with stores throughout North America and the United Kingdom,” (says the website.) It will then come as no surprise that Whole Foods Market is a multi-billion dollar corporation.
Thus, when I received the email from someone at a Whole Foods Market, I assumed we had hit it big! The resources for the cooking class are sustainable, I thought. With a large sponsor like Whole Foods we would not have to ask around so much because a seemingly small donation from such a wealthy company would go very far in our little classroom. With such excitement, I proceeded to correspond with this Whole Foods employee.
Within a week I was on the phone with this employee explaining the layout of the class. I explained who we are serving and where the school is located. When asked if families would visit the store, I explained that this would be unlikely given the distance, cost of travel and cost of goods at their store. Surprisingly, this person could not admit that her store sold overpriced goods. Even though I made no mention of this common joke, but for folks in my class (and my peers) Whole Foods is often known as Whole Paycheck. Without scaring this person off, I tried to make clear that a donation would be hugely beneficial for the class but having the participants visit the store was unlikely. Nonetheless, the potential donation remained on the table.
I was told to submit a “request of donation form.” Scott and I filled it out and asked for a $500 donation. Yes, this amount was large for our needs, as this much money would easily cover 8 weeks of classes. We submitted the form with excitement and for-longing. Even if the total amount was not allotted, $200 dollars (or an amount in that range) would be significant. So we wrote the form. I dropped it off at the store, and we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I was told to turn-in the form just after New Year’s so we could get the donation in time for the first class. After I handed in the document, I emailed the employee a week later. Nothing. I waited another week and after some egging-on by Scott, I decided to call the store. I called once and left a message. No call back. I called again and was told to call back later. I call again and no one is there. Eventually I make it a serious task to contact this person. I call until I speak to this person because it was becoming clear that I was being avoided.
Last week, around the time when I posted my rant, we finally conversed. This person spoke to me like it was the first time. Tell me about your class, I was asked. What is the school and where is it located, I was asked. What kind of donation do you want? Etc.
I tried to keep my cool. Though it’s hard for me to stay calm when I had played along this whole time; naively perhaps – I don’t know. And so I explained everything all over again. I was then told that Whole Foods Market does not operate like a national corporation. Each store fends for itself in its given community. In this context, the financial resources for Whole Foods Market – a massive corporation that exploits the impassioned interests of many well-to-do Americans – only has $100 to donate a month!
$100 dollars a month!
Unbelievable. With so many groups in need of support here in Portland, that $100 dollars cannot go so far, I was told.
Here is the offer I was then provided: We can give your class a $25 gift card to the store OR you can come by the store (once) and pick up a box on unsold food items. The later option does not necessarily include produce or usable items for my cooking class.
And so begins the unraveling.
At first I claimed to want the box of food items. My thoughts were that the food items could be used for a class. It became clear to me that the food items could be packaged or plastic-wrapped. There was no certainty that the food items would be actual food. Like, apples and potatoes for example. I quickly decided that the gift card would suffice. Was it enough to support 1 class – no. But, it’s a donation and the money would ensure that food for the class would be available. Nothing would go to waste. All the while I am negotiating this with the employee, I mention something I saw elsewhere.
The previous day I received an email from a popular non-profit in town. The email informed me of the organization’s successful fundraiser. Low and behold, one of the donations came from Whole Foods Market. And guess what?! The donation far superseded $25. This group received $5,000! I was shocked. I wanted to find out how I could access such a large amount of money.
When I asked about this, I was told the following: three times a year our store will donate 5% of one day’s profits to a local non-profit. This particular organization had received one of those day’s profits. And thus, even if I tried, I could access a larger sum of money. Now I realize that the store is not a source for social services. And yet, it is absurd that only $100 is available on a month-to-moth basis, and yet on one day’s profits, a 5% cut equals $5,000. If the store put aside one day’s 5% profit once a month there could be so much more money. Hence my frustration with the situation.
To conclude, I was let down. I felt lied to. I felt naive and very angry. And so I decided to rant on the larger issue.
The end.
Related posts:
- Cooking Class Conundrum
- Local Food Movement Gains Serious Support
- Death to Canned Foods?!
- Poultry Pages: Introductions
- Why the Non-Profit Model Does Not Work (a rant)
Tags: Food Politics, portland