When Crowdfunding Isn’t Enough…
If you’re a parent of a child with a disability, there’s a good chance you’ve heard the suggestion: “You should start a GoFundMe.” It’s almost always said with kindness and good intention from someone who wants to help and offer a solutions…and in many situations, crowdsourcing really does make a meaningful difference. But crowdsourcing only works when there’s actually a crowd.
For some families, there is. There are grandparents, coworkers, friends, neighbors, church communities, social networks, and people who have both the emotional capacity and the financial ability to step in. Posts get shared widely, small donations add up and the momentum builds—the village shows up. When that happens, it can be incredible to witness but not every parent has that kind of village.
Working in healthcare has given me a front-row seat to something that many people don’t often see. Some families (or individuals) are navigating incredibly complex situations while carrying almost everything on their own. There isn’t extended family nearby and there isn’t a network of people ready to organize fundraisers, meal trains or circulate a donation link. Sometimes there’s a single parent trying to keep a job while managing appointments, therapies, insurance calls, and hospital stays and social bandwidth falls to the very bottom of their list.
Even when there are people who love them, those people may be facing financial stress themselves. They care deeply, but there simply isn’t extra money to give and when crowdsourcing is suggested as the obvious solution in those situations, it can feel complicated. It means sharing some of the most personal parts of your child’s story publicly and explaining diagnoses, posting photos from hospital rooms, and hoping people will connect with your child’s story enough to help. And then there’s the waiting…waiting to see if the post gets shared; waiting to see if donations come in; waiting to see who shows up. Sometimes the support pours in and other times the page sits quietly, barely moving.
I think about these families a lot. The ones who did everything they could think of and asked for help even when asking felt uncomfortable. The ones who tried to make the numbers work anyway. The reality is that crowdfunding often reflects something beyond need. It reflects reach. It reflects how many people are connected to your life and how many of them have the ability to contribute. That doesn’t mean some children need equipment or therapy more than others. It just means some families have a bigger circle around them and there are many parents whose circles are small. Those are the families that stay with me. The parents quietly figuring out how to move forward when an adaptive bike, a communication device, a therapy program, or a piece of equipment feels financially out of reach.
Those are also the families we think about when we talk about the work we’re doing at Wolf Pups on Wheels. The heart behind Wolfpups has always been simple: sometimes families just need someone to step in when the crowd never arrives. Small grants can mean an adaptive bike, communication support, intensive therapy, or equipment that makes everyday life a little more possible.
The only way we’re able to do that is because people choose to become part of the village. Monthly giving is one of the most powerful ways that happens. When a group of people commit to something as simple as $10 a month, it quietly builds a safety net for families who might otherwise have nowhere to turn. It turns individual kindness into something steady and reliable.
Perhaps just as important as the funding, it sends a message to parents who feel like they’re doing this alone. If you don’t have a village, you still deserve support. If your fundraiser didn’t take off, your child is still worthy. If your circle feels small, it doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. Sometimes families just need someone to say, we see you. And if that’s you and you need someone in your corner, I’ll be in your Wolfpack.