Bloody hell.
I hate Comcast.
Hear me out. I don’t hate hate Comcast, but I kind of hate them.
Right, you were hearing me out…
Here’s the deal. Right now, The Jay Walkers have raised $7,220. That’s awesome! Thank you! We’re the #1 team.
Go us!
And this is where I should tell you that everything is fantastic.
Except.
We’re always the #1 team at this point of fundraising.
We’re never the #1 team when we arrive at the walk.
Sure, the team gets a little shoutout to polite claps. I get a shoutout… to polite claps, but it’s always following the whoops and hollers for the #1 team.
The closest we ever came to holding on to #1 was a few years ago. I was crazy excited. We were going to open the walk. Hold the team banner, and everyone was going to walk behind us. NICE! Then I started watching the leaderboard, and there was @#$! Comcast just getting donations hand over fist. FML, are you kidding me? Then come walk day, they were #1, we were #2 and were supposed to follow them in leading the walk, and then, of course, that didn’t even work out – the organizers didn’t line up the first few teams; it was just a free-for-all, and all I wanted to do was bounce my walk day shirt, which listed our team as #1 (they have to print them early), off of the entire Comcast team. And they wouldn’t deserve it, because they worked hard and raised a lot of money for a truly great cause, and all of their efforts would go to make a huge impact. Jerks.
You can see why I revile them, right?
RIGHT???
The worst!
And now we’re like three weeks away from the walk, and I’m out of ideas. I need to move that needle and get us closer to our $9,500 goal, while I watch donations pour into Comcast, who may (or may not) have a massive corporate charitable-giving program or may (or may not) have just one guy who regularly pokes the employee pool with a “donate now” stick that encourages them with a rah rah, “Come on, team!” speech, because I’m pretty sure that’s how that goes. Great. Cool cool cool. Love that.
So, now I’m just going to straight up beg.
Help me beat a corporation that has around 179,000 employees globally, and I’m pretty sure something like 178,999 live in Austin. (Note: Actual numbers may vary from 1-178,999 – this isn’t about facts, this is about feelings, people. And I have MANY feelings).
So, if you want to help me beat a corporation – be the David to their Goliath, here’s what you can do.
Get a slingshot.
Oh right, not that.
Share the link to our fundraiser on your socials, and tell them your “why”. (Maybe don’t mention the whole “…because Beth has some weird beef with people doing a good thing for a good cause.” Hey, no one wants to hear about your Comcast sympathy.) Seriously, though. Tell people why it matters to you. Because it does matter. If people understand your “why,” they’re more likely to understand why they should care, too. And when they care, AFSP can keep doing the things they do best: supporting people who need it, funding research, educating people, and advocating for change at the local and federal level.
Sign up for the walk, mark your calendar, and then throw on your favorite sneakers (or sandals) and get out there come walk day. Fun fact: You don’t have to be here in Austin to walk that day. And one more ask – let people know why you’re walking. We help reduce the stigma surrounding suicide and make it easier for those in need of help when we talk about it.
Make a donation. It doesn’t have to be big to make an impact. A $1 makes a difference. A $1 is like one rock in one slingshot.
Because underneath all my deeply mature and well-expressed feelings about Comcast, this is why we’re here.
Jay.
AFSP.
The people who need the support now.
The people we hope never need it.
And the people we have lost.
Now help us beat Comcast!
Why are you still here?
Go make a difference.
Go on. Click it.
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