Let me take a good look at my clock and do the math. Seventeen hours into January 1st. That’s how long I’ve been getting to know this new 365-day relationship, otherwise known as 2025. It’s far too early to know the ins and outs of our new acquaintance, which, hopefully, becomes a good friend. It’s a new … beginning. Throughout my journalism career, I have several times started a new role in the newsroom when someone new was sitting behind the editor’s desk. I thought it was not only a good opportunity for me but also a chance for them to prove to the management of the paper that they, too, weren’t afraid of trying new things.
It was 1998. In addition to my writing features, I wrote a weekly column on charities and volunteering in Edmonton. I was getting way too much information for just one column a week. So, I proposed a full-time columnist position, producing three a week – something I so enjoyed for the six years that followed.
This brings us to this very point in time as we dive into the debate of reconsidering New Year’s resolutions. We’ve all had them: some have worked out and others, while it sounded like a fun idea at the time, fizzled out like a glass of $1.50 champagne at a New Year’s Eve soiree. Gone. Never to be thought of again.
Moreover, I think it could be argued that if – and we all have them – we are challenged to achieve things we really want to accomplish, is it a good idea to entertain and an idea to do something new? And could trying a new thing, or even stopping something, take away the drive to get better at something we’ve been trying to do for a long time? Especially something that could help — even save lives?
New Year’s try again. What do you think?
It fits snug with the work done by all charities — every last one of them. Try again, right? A noble attempt that is two-fold: to increase the quality of life of the people they raise money for, and — this notion rarely gets much thought – the growth of capacity, compassion, and caring of thoughtful donors. The bloodline of any non-profit organization: volunteers and donors. The work of the David Foster Foundation is no different. Yet, there is an intriguing “try again” element which, if accepted and embraced, can lead to beyond-gratifying work.
It isn’t a secret. The DFF can only help young children in need of organ transplants if there is — hark! — an organ transplant ready to go. And that, dear reader, is where the “try again” factor can make a profound difference.
Consider: 28 million Canadians have not signed their organ donor card to become registered donors. We need to keep asking people to register their organ donor card: new angles, new information, and new ways of sharing. And then there’s this interesting nugget – a Mood Disorder Society of Canada online report says 20 per cent of Canadians between the ages of 12 and 19 have low self-esteem.
There’s an opportunity to help. What if an initiative was embedded in places where there are teenagers? Schools? Sports organizations? Music and theatre groups? Driving schools? And then have fun challenges with perhaps the rewards they need the most.
A purpose.
If you have any ideas or comments, I would love to hear from you. My email is ctait@davidfosterfoundation.com. Let’s challenge ourselves to try again.
