In some cases my idealism has put me at odds with the sense of most people. Take my lack of full-time job as an example. I feel like it's better to not have a full-time job unless it meets all of my major needs in an employer (lots of different projects and the ability to use different skills being a major facet). So instead I have three part-time jobs, none of them regular or scheduled, all of which sometimes require insane amounts of work... or none at all... and all of them for different parts of me. I can fill essential oils and teach people about them, and push myself in the finances of Nature's Fusions, and it gives me something in common with my brothers. I write for Bonneville and love to create things that can impact the world and share the gospel. And I get to go to a residential treatment center and be a role model and counselor for kids who don't really have people who have taken care of them. It's perfect for me, in an unscheduled-I-don't-know-if-I'll-have-work-tomorrow kind of way that should make me uneasy according to normal standards. But I'm good.
I'm also an idealist when it comes to money. I wish... When I first learned about the law of consecration in Sunday School, I found myself praying that it would be re-instated because it sounded so... perfect. Utopian. Happy. Less stressful than how things work today. Everyone does their best, gives their all, asks for what they need...
I'm pretty sure there is more to it. But my 7-year-old self is still alive and well, and I have just as much difficulty selling (instead of giving) essential oils to family members and friends as I did accepting babysitting money as a teenager. I made some parents really concerned when I wouldn't take their money. Enough that they talked with mine. I remember my dad sitting me down and telling me I had to accept people's money when I worked for them. He totally didn't understand. Or when I volunteered for months for a position, which then became paid... and almost quit my job the first week because I didn't feel I was worth the paycheck.
Yeah. So maybe it's a self-worth issue mixed in with idyllic romanticism. Whatever. I know I'm worthwhile now at least. Sometimes. ;)
So it's extending to my a cappella group. We sing only really positive songs, we perform every week... and now I'm going the next step. Our concert on April 10, instead of being a flat $12 or $20 for admission, is going to be name your own price. That way people can choose to pay what they think the concert will be worth... what feel comfortable giving... and what they can afford.
The Covey Center doesn't have a way to do name-your-own-price online, so people have to call in or visit the box office in Provo. Tickets went on sale yesterday... and name your own price went live today. I was just excited that they were willing to make it work. :)
I talked with an economics professor today to ask for advice on making it work and, for the first fifteen minutes of our conversation, he tried to convince me to change my mind. Just lower the price, or sell the tickets at $12, or introduce price discrimination by selling some seats at higher/lower prices, or do this or that. It was still good to talk with him; if nothing else, it gave me a pulse from someone who works with numbers everyday, and pushed me to want to believe more in society than he did. His biggest concern was that here, in Provo, Mormons always want a deal or a coupon... and with name your own price, what would keep me from losing everything on the concert?
As I said, I'm an idealist... and I only have my own experience to draw from. I know that even though I love deals more than most other people, when someone appeals to my sense of trust - when they trust me or entrust me with something - I honestly admire them. There's a restaurant (or was, it's been a while) in downtown Salt Lake that was name your own price. I took my little brothers on a trip to Salt Lake just to go to that restaurant once while they were in town from Chicago. They wouldn't eat anything, so I didn't take much. When I finished my plate, the cashier suggested I pay $5 for my meal. I paid $30 and was awesomely happy. I left the place grinning from ear to ear because I felt like I was a part of something beautiful... something helping the world be a better place. Paying $5 for a $5 meal, or a $10 meal, wouldn't have given me that.
I just realized that this post might sound awfully self-serving. Especially since I'm telling you about Grace's concert.
Um.
Wow. That sort of took the wind out of my sails... and made me want to both erase it all and just assume that it will all work because people are good and no one is really self-serving and people realize that.
I am definitely an idealist. I don't even give other thoughts a chance. Or feel bad about tossing them. Lol.
And I assume that people are like me. I'm in love with life, and while I might want an amazing deal when I can get it, I only want deals so that I can turn around and support the causes that I really care about.
So, back to news, Grace's concert is going to also be a benefit concert as well. If you name your own price, 20% of your ticket price will go to giving back to the community. 20% because at least I'm down-to-earth enough to remember I have to cover theater costs. I'm not sure exactly where or how it'll be given back yet (since what we can do will depend on how much we bring in) but it'll happen.
Cool, huh? That's the kind of thing that I enjoy being a part of, just because I love feeling empowered.
The promo code is "Amazing Grace."
...and in my contract with the theater I agreed to include the following (useful) information every time I talked about the performance:
Phone: 801-852-7007
In-person: 425 W Center St, Provo
Open M-Th: 10am-6pm, F: 10am-2pm
Tickets also on sale online (not name your own price): https://secure.coveycenter.org/webtix/showdates.php?s_id=778
The Covey Center for the Arts is owned and operated by the city of Provo.
Online and phone orders are charged a $3 convenience surcharge per transaction (not per ticket).
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