This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/society/2015/jun/05/chuggers-tell-their-side-of-the-story

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
'Canterbury this week was beautiful' - chuggers tell their side of the story 'Canterbury this week was beautiful' - chuggers tell their side of the story
(34 minutes later)
“Do you even know what ‘chugger’ means?” Rachid Choaibi, 41, asked me. He was collecting for Action Against Hunger on the Strand, on Friday morning. “It means ‘charity mugger’,” I replied. “Yes. But I think a lot of people don’t know that. They’ll go, ‘sorry, mate, I don’t speak to chuggers,’ smiling at me. When they’ve just called me a mugger!” “Do you even know what ‘chugger’ means?” Rachid Choaibi, 41, asked me. He was collecting for Action Against Hunger on the Strand. “It means ‘charity mugger’,” I replied. “Yes. But I think a lot of people don’t know that. They’ll go, ‘sorry, mate, I don’t speak to chuggers’, smiling at me, when they’ve just called me a mugger!”
This week, Croydon became the 100th council to clamp down on face-to-face fundraising – or rather, in the preferred rubric of real life, they entered into an agreement with the Public Fundraising Regulatory Association (PFRA) as to the days (Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays) and shopping areas in which fundraisers are allowed to operate. It sparked a flare of public hostility towards chuggers which culminated in Jan Moir wondering aloud in the Daily Mail why fundraisers weren’t more often “beaten to a pulp.” This week, Croydon became the 100th council to clamp down on face-to-face fundraising – or rather, in the preferred rubric of real life, they entered into an agreement with the Public Fundraising Regulatory Association (PFRA) as to the days (Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays) and shopping areas in which fundraisers are allowed to operate. It sparked a flare of public hostility towards chuggers which culminated in Jan Moir wondering aloud in the Daily Mail why fundraisers weren’t more often “beaten to a pulp”.
Yet there is a bizarre mismatch between this presentation of chuggers as pestilent street furniture that has to be clamped down on, like drunks in the town centre, and the fact that these are proper, long-term jobs, that people stay in for years - Choaibi has done it, along with other fundraising, for 17 years, and is a MInst F Cert (he made me write that down - it stands for Certified Member of the Institute of Fundraising). Yet there is a bizarre mismatch between this presentation of chuggers as pestilent street furniture that has to be clamped down on, like drunks in the town centre, and the fact that these are proper, long-term jobs that people stay in for years. Choaibi has done it, along with other fundraising, for 17 years, and is a MInst F Cert (he made me write that down it stands for Certified Member of the Institute of Fundraising).
Ian, 37, collecting for Red Cross on Kingsway, also in central London, has done it for 12 years: “I’m proud of what I do. In the end, it’s not a numbers game, it’s about fostering a relationship between a person and the charity that you hope will last for two, five, 10 years. That’s only going to happen if they’re approached by someone who’s happy, relaxed, understands the issues deeply and conveys it eloquently. Of course I’m proud of it. I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t.” Ian, 37, collecting for Red Cross on Friday on Kingsway, also in central London, has done it for 12 years: “I’m proud of what I do. It’s not a numbers game. It’s about fostering a relationship between a person and the charity that you hope will last for two, five, 10 years. That’s only going to happen if they’re approached by someone who’s happy, relaxed, understands the issues deeply and conveys it eloquently. Of course I’m proud of it. I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t.”
“And the image people have of fundraisers,” I ask, “that charities just employ good-looking young men to sweet talk women, and good-looking young women to sweet talk men…” I didn’t really plan this question before I began it… “Is that how you started?” He gave me what I think is called a Paddington stare. “No.” “And the image people have of fundraisers,” I ask, “that charities just employ good-looking young men to sweet-talk women, and good-looking young women to sweet-talk men…” I didn’t really plan this question before I began it… “Is that how you started?” He gave me what I think is called a Paddington stare. “No.”
Face-to-face fundraising began in Austria in the 1990s, and was so immediately successful that many European countries took it up. It was unregulated at the start, and the rules of the PFRA are a neat thumbnail of what the initial objections were: fundraisers are now forbidden to follow anyone for more than three steps; they’re not allowed to stand by cashpoints or traffic lights, they’re not allowed to approach people at bus stops. Face-to-face fundraising began in Austria in the 1990s, and was so immediately successful that many European countries took it up. It was unregulated at the start, and the rules of the PFRA are a neat thumbnail of what the initial objections were: fundraisers are now forbidden to follow anyone for more than three steps; they’re not allowed to stand by cashpoints or traffic lights; they’re not allowed to approach people at bus stops.
In councils that have an agreement with the PFRA, there are specific sites that fundraisers are allowed to use, which charities then bid for. It’s a little stringent – Choaibi says people can be still talking to you as they walk off, but if you take more than three steps with them, the charity will be fined and you’ll be suspended. Broadly, though, he really enjoys it. “You’ve got the freedom to be in different parts of the country. Canterbury this week was beautiful. You’re meeting a brain surgeon, you’re meeting a homeless person. The vast majority get it. It’s a charity, you believe in it. If they can’t sign up, they’ll wish you good luck.” In councils that have an agreement with the PFRA, there are specific sites that fundraisers are allowed to use, which charities then bid for. It’s a little stringent – Choaibi says people can still be talking to you as they walk off, but if you take more than three steps with them, the charity will be fined and you’ll be suspended. Broadly, though, he really enjoys it. “You’ve got the freedom to be in different parts of the country. Canterbury this week was beautiful. You’re meeting a brain surgeon, you’re meeting a homeless person. The vast majority get it. It’s a charity, you believe in it. If they can’t sign up, they’ll wish you good luck.”
The other member of his team, Louize Jordan, 27, only started three days ago, after months looking for a job in fundraising. “I’ve done retail. I’ve done lots of public facing stuff. When you’re working in a shop, you can’t really give back much. When people sign up, you feel so good about yourself. I’ve saved a life. I’ve done a great job.”The other member of his team, Louize Jordan, 27, only started three days ago, after months looking for a job in fundraising. “I’ve done retail. I’ve done lots of public facing stuff. When you’re working in a shop, you can’t really give back much. When people sign up, you feel so good about yourself. I’ve saved a life. I’ve done a great job.”
Part of the reason the chuggers’ side is never told is the absurd caginess of the PRFA, to the point where they directed me to sites on days when they weren’t operational. Their approach seems to be to accept the public perception that this is a menace, while congratulating themselves on the fact that it’s highly effective. But it’s only effective because the fundraisers are. Joey Moore, 29, a member of Ian’s team, has been doing it for 11 years, since he left college. He was in the Territorial Army. “I’ve been out to other countries and seen the Red Cross, the work they do. I really want to raise money for them. One thing I can tell you, you’re not going to remember the one person who says an ignorant or obscene thing to you. You’re going to remember the good conversations you had.” Part of the reason the chuggers’ side is never told is the absurd caginess of the PFRA, to the point where they directed me to sites on days when they weren’t operational. Their approach seems to be to accept the public perception that this is a menace, while congratulating themselves on the fact that it’s highly effective. But it’s only effective because the fundraisers are. Joey Moore, 29, a member of Ian’s team, has been doing it for 11 years, since he left college. He was in the Territorial Army. “I’ve been out to other countries and seen the Red Cross, the work they do. I really want to raise money for them. One thing I can tell you, you’re not going to remember the one person who says an ignorant or obscene thing to you. You’re going to remember the good conversations you had.”
They have targets, but they’re not on commission – the wages aren’t high. Choaibi said that, when he had a desk job as a fundraiser, he was earning £37k, “and this is a lot less.” But there’s a progression to management, “it can be really fast,” Moore said, “it can be six months.” “I’ve been a manager,” Ian said, “but this is the level I think I’m most effective.” “People walk away from me feeling pretty good, because they’ve done something amazing,” Choaibi said. “That sounds cheesy but it’s the God’s truth.” They have targets, but they’re not on commission – the wages aren’t high. Choaibi said that, when he had a desk job as a fundraiser, he was earning £37k, “and this is a lot less”. But there is a progression to management. “It can be really fast,” Moore said, “it can be six months.”
“I’ve been a manager,” Ian said, “but this is the level I think I’m most effective.” “People walk away from me feeling pretty good, because they’ve done something amazing,” Choaibi said. “That sounds cheesy but it’s the God’s truth.”