Like some of you, I've lived a pretty posh life. No, money wasn't growing on trees during my childhood, but I never wondered whether there would be enough food for me. Even in my college days, I always had enough money to be well-fed, just ask my 'freshman fifteen.' 

I opened up the pantry yesterday, grateful for a big bag of rice and boxes of cereal, knowing that many of my fellow humans are not so lucky, particularly right now. My privilege is palpable. It always has been rather apparent, but it is particularly evident right now. I still have a job, albeit impacted, and my family and friends are all healthy so far. I live in a good neighborhood in California, a state that's been notably proactive in its response to the outbreak. I have a cozy condo that I call home, and my pantry is amply stocked. Of course, I'm scared about the fact that one of my kids is immunocompromised, and so am I, and I'm grieving the loss of some liberties and events and warm hugs from good friends, but I'm mainly sitting pretty. So pretty in fact that it cast a light on the space that currently exists between the 'haves' and the 'have nots,' and how sad and dangerous the world is for 'have nots,' especially right now.

I chewed on this reality, yes, COVID-19 is the great equalizer, but what can we do about it?  

Then I had an idea: 

We're directing Clearly Clinical's charitable giving to Feeding America, a charity that's supporting food banks. They're the ones who are dropping off boxes of food to people who can't leave their homes, and the ones procuring, making, and serving food to people without homes. They need us right now. $5 from every purchase for April and May, perhaps longer, will go straight to Feeding America.

We've always donated to charity, it is part of our missions to support social causes, and this feels like the right thing to do.