Good Deeds on a Small Scale #3
by: Lita Kurth on February 6th, 2010 | 2 Comments »
I’m fascinated by the germination of good deeds. Where do they begin? How do they grow from a mere idea to an actuality?
On the 26th of January, I caught up by phone with José Chavez, a custodian in the San Jose, California, Unified School District who’s been instrumental in creating a library for the village school in Limón, Michoacán, Mexico, where he grew up. (I learned of his project through a librarian friend who was soliciting books in Spanish.) Not only did he lead the library project, but he helped (physically) build a concrete plaza and paved areas in the village. When that was finished, the priest in the village called him up and said, “Why don’t you help us make a little room behind the church for people to meet?” So he raised $3,000 from among his friends and relatives in the immigrant community, many of whom gave $50, $100, $200.
I imagine that many people, like me, dream about all the good we’ll do someday when we acquire enough wealth to have a personal foundation. Here was a working class person who didn’t wait to be rich before taking action.
Below are extracts from our conversation:
LK: Tell me about how you started this library.
JC: I was born in Limón, Michoacán, and when I came here in 1974, I was thinking one day, ‘We don’t have any books [in the village].’ Three of us came from the same school, and [when we went there] the government only gave us three or four books, so I said to my friends, “Why don’t we try to build a library for the kids in that school?” So we [Salvador Andrade, Mario Andrade, and José] filled out an application to the government in Sacramento [Mexico] to see if the government will help us. The government said it would give 75 percent, if we would give 25 percent. So we started to collect the money [from other immigrant friends and family in the San Jose area].
The government gave a building and that’s it. No books, no shelves. One of my friends works for the Atherton School District and he talked to the PTA, and they got us about 200 books. I don’t receive money. It’s better to have the books because if I receive money, people might think I stole the money.
LK: What made you decide to do this? Was there a spiritual side to it?
JC: [He asks me to explain] Many people ask me that – my bosses, the secretaries. The people were already poor. They live from the farms. Their kids want to learn more than us. I like to help the poor people because I come from a poor family, and I know how hard is the life. [He pauses to reflect.] Maybe I was born that way.
LK: How long did it take to build the library [a one-room, cinderblock building]? Did you run into any obstacles?
JC: It takes a long time. This is not something you can do in two, three months. You have to do it little by little. We need to have a passion to do this.
LK: So you bring the books down there yourself? How long is the drive?
JC: It takes three days. I only drive in the day, and I got a certificate letter from the government so I don’t have a problem.
LK: What has been the most rewarding part?
JC: When I see the kids smiling. The kids were very excited when we gave them the books. That’s what I’ll take when I’m leaving this world. It’s the only thing you’re going to take with you.
LK: What would you say to people who want to do something good for others?
JC: Sometimes my family says, “Hey, why do you do all those things and nobody thanks you?” Don’t expect everybody to appreciate it. If one or two persons say thanks, that’s enough.
* * *
Further Thoughts: Once again, it takes a village and even a government
There’s so much to ponder in José’s words and actions. (It was sweet to see that he shared the initials of another famously caring person!) First, I think of all the people involved, from the three friends, José, Mario, and Salvador; my friend in the school library, the Atherton PTA, and especially the regional government in Mexico. I keep finding that individual action is connected to group action in intricate ways. What a valuable role for the government to play – to respond generously and at a micro level to locally-initiated goals. Is there something our own government could learn from this?
How generous poor people are!
According to the Social Capital Community Benchmark Survey, [cited on the website of the news show, 20/20] “people at the lower end of the income scale give almost 30 percent more of their income [than middle class or rich people].” I remember commenting on that phenomenon to my father, a lifelong poor person (except for maybe two years when he was out of the military and single with a factory job and a new truck). He said, “Of course! That’s why they’re rich!”
But it’s not quite that simple. I suspect that many people, even middle-class people as I am now, worry not about current finances, but about what might happen, and that makes us reluctant to be generous. We want to control where our money goes and make sure the result is just right. And for sure, we want a tax deduction.
At the end of my interview with José, when I asked about the future of the project, he said, “It’s hard right now. The economy is so bad. But we need to help people not just from our own place. The people in Haiti have so much suffering. We need to send some money.”
When I finished writing this up, I got out my checkbook, looked up the address of a trusted charity working in Haiti, and sent a check. I may be lagging now, but my goal is to catch up –because someday I want to know what it’s like to be generous as a part of my daily being, without conscious thought and agonizing. That might be living in a state of grace.
Your thoughts?



How inspiring! And on several levels; it’s good to be reminded that even if we don’t actually see the fruits of our giving (like your check to Haiti and the many people in San Jose who gave to José) we have to trust in the value of it. And like you say, worry less that the “result is just right.” ¡Here’s to José!
Thank you! I’ve been thinking a lot lately about letting go: of unneeded clothing, of old fears and outworn attitudes, of saved stuff that grows more and more absurd as the time I have left to use it in diminishes. Why not send it out into the world and maximize its use, trusting that mainly it will do more good out there than in my house? And regardless of every individual outcome–some results might disappoint me– it’s better to risk failure than do nothing. Quite apart from where the stuff ends up, I end up stronger. Thanks for the comment.