The 10% Solution?

I wonder, sometimes, what it must do to one's emotional well-being to be a journalist who covers something as horrific as the AIDS epidemic in Africa. There you are, watching as people's lives slip away from them...looking around you at huge numbers of people with not much time left...seeing the children whose parents are going fast or already gone...recognizing the utter hopelessness of it all. How do they cope?

On one hand, telling the story so that someone may be compelled to act must give journalists a sense of purpose. On the other hand, the problem is...up close and for the people they see day to day...hopeless. The people they interview, the babies they watch wither, the families they see fall to pieces...that must wreck their emotional lives. I know it would wreck mine.

I watched a special on PBS and then on CNN tonight, about the impact of AIDS, that leaves me limp and weak and feeling hopeless. How in the hell can those journalists go on? Maybe they feel that their efforts will, ultimately, make a difference. I hope it will.

I've only known one person who had AIDS, and I didn't know he had it until long after he died. It's not like the disease is having a horrible impact on me. But hearing about the pain it's inflicting on children in Africa is pretty jarring.

And yet here I sit in front of a computer, worrying about the cost of replacing a washing machine. What's really jarring is how I am able to just go on living a privileged life without contributing well over half my income to reduce suffering. I talk. I feel. My actions are small. If my charitable contributions exceed $2,000 in an average year I'd be surprised. Shouldn't we all try to find that 10% of our income that could change the course of mankind? It might change our lifestyles is modestly uncomfortable ways, but I reckon it would have extraordinary impacts on people who desperately need help.

So, what's stopping me, personally? I don't know. Maybe my wife will read this and say, "yes, we must do this." And then we will.