Ben Cass

I’m getting more than a few emails these days. Every time someone donates by Paypal I get an email notification. This is great, because it lets me reply and thank the donor (I’m a couple days behind, so if you’ve donated recently - have patience!).

My inbox is flooded even more because many people reply to that thank you, or send a note along with their donation. This is a good thing, please don’t stop! Such was the case with Martha Cass a few days ago:

” Hi Brendan - Thanks for the note. I wanted to let you know that $3 of our donation was from my six-year old son Ben. We saw the story in the National Post and he asked me what you were doing with the children in the picture. When I read him the story, he decided he wanted to dig into his piggy bank to send you the money. His father and I agreed to match his donation.

You talk a bit about how your generation can make a difference in the world. Remember that a big part of that is setting an example for the generation that follows yours. Thank you for setting a good example for our son.”

After getting a message like this, it’s hard to know what to say, or how to respond. So I took the easy route - explaining what was in the photo:

“We were working on promoting water pumps for irrigation and drinking water in Senegal. To do this, we’d install a pump in a village, show everyone how to use it, and then leave it for a month for them to try out. The idea was, if people perceived there to be a benefit, then they’d buy one from their neighbours, who we had trained to build the pumps. The pumps weren’t too expensive, and the overall philosophy was that if everyone along the chain sees a benefit, they will keep making, selling and using the pumps after the project ends.

When we set up pumps in a village, and the first water comes out, kids explode in excitement over to where the water is emerging from the pipes. Sometimes it’s hard not to join them, so that’s what I was doing.”

But a proper answer to Martha’s note would have continued:

I remember being a couple years older than Ben’s age, and seeing my mother walk into my school class with a milk carton around her leg and egg carton on her head. She had volunteered to do a session on recycling, part of a larger program to teach schoolkids to recycle. I remember being 90% mortified that my mom was wearing garbage on her head in front of my friends. But I was also 10% proud that my mom was, well, wearing garbage on her head in front of my friends.

Fast forward about twenty years. Local recycling participation rates hover around 90% in Vancouver. The programs that taught us recycling as kids are now seen as a success. What am I getting at? It’s not about the recycling. It’s about generational change. It’s about recognising the fact that systematic change takes time, and we need to anticipate this. It was nice for Ben to remind me that as hard as my generation works to fix some of our problems, it’s his generation that’s probably going to have to finish the job.

Brendan