I honestly didn’t know what to expect when I started this food drive.
This was my first time doing anything like this, and if I’m being real, I didn’t start it from a place of optimism or cheer.
I started it from pain. From frustration. From that gut-punch feeling you get when you watch vulnerable people potentially lose access to food...something so basic, so necessary...while others argue about budgets and policies like real lives aren’t attached to the outcome.
Watching people possibly go hungry when it doesn’t have to be this way really messed with me.
Knowing that there are people out there who genuinely don’t care whether others live or die...especially when it doesn’t affect them...was infuriating. And if you know me at all, you know how I feel about politics.
I don’t hide it.
What I want to be clear about is this:
I never set out to hold a food drive.
A few months ago, I shared an article from the Akron Beacon Journal about an LGBTQ+ nonprofit losing funding...funding that helped keep some of the most vulnerable people supported and safe. Someone commented something along the lines of, “Looks like a perfect time to start a fundraiser instead of complain.”
My immediate reaction? Excuse me?
We shouldn’t have to fundraise for nonprofits that help people get on their feet. Especially not communities just trying to live their lives without fear.
That comment stuck with me though...not in a good way at the time...but now I realize it was foreshadowing something I never imagined I’d do.
Fast forward to this food drive:
Between our two collection days at Rust Modern Home and Denim & Design, you all donated 1,656 pounds of food.
You also donated $4,424...when my original goal was $2,500.
In total, that provided 14,652 meals.
Let that sink in.
Fourteen thousand.
Six hundred.
Fifty-two.
Meals.
I didn’t do this for accolades. I didn’t do it to be told I’m a good person. I did it because I felt helpless...and this was something I could do.
And what I learned through all of this completely changed me.
Most people are good.
And most people want to help.
What surprised me most was how excited people were to give.
The cross-promotion with both stores, the buzz around filling the truck. It turned generosity into something contagious. People were pulling up with their cars packed full of cans.
Kids handed over dollar bills from their own savings. People texted me photos of grocery carts overflowing with donations.
I cried. Of course I did. Im crying writing this.
Watching kids proudly give what they had?
That wrecked me in the best way.
I also realized something really important: sometimes it just takes one person to facilitate.
One person willing to organize it, to create the energy, and to be responsible for getting the food where it needs to go. That’s it.
We have a long way to go.
Hunger isn’t solved by one food drive. But connecting with you all, seeing how quickly people showed up, and witnessing what happens when community rallies together.
It made a bigger impact on me than I ever expected.
And I never thought I’d say this… but I think I’m going to make this a yearly thing.
I already have ideas on how to make an even bigger impact next year...and I can’t wait to double our efforts. If this was year one, just imagine what’s possible as it grows.
