As I write this, the leaves outside my office window are turning bright yellow, red, and orange, announcing a change of season. Here at my desk, a change of season is underway as well: I am entering my fifth month as the Good People Fund’s Executive Director Emerita and Master Mentor and it has been a journey. (Maybe even one I could write a book about!)
In 2007, the Good People Fund was little more than an idea, launched somewhat precipitously, but with care and no small amount of chutzpah. Why would such a venture succeed in an economic climate that was anything but favorable? And yet it did, in ways I never imagined. Over the next 19 years, I worked with our board to nurture it, develop new ideas, and expand our mission beyond financial support for visionaries to include mentoring and education. It was much like raising a child to adulthood. When we began planning for this “child’s” long-term future, I admit that the thought of stepping away was inconceivable. But time has a way of gently bringing the mind to a different place, and that is what happened.
Today, I am fortunate to remain involved in ways that reflect what I loved most about this work. My two-day-a-week role as a mentor allows me to work far more deeply with our grantees than I ever could before. Whether they are wrestling with a thorny problem, crafting a piece that captures their impact, or figuring out how to raise the funds to continue their work, I now have time to devote to them without juggling all the other details of an Executive Director’s job. Of course, I also remain available to Julie and stand ready to offer advice and counsel when asked. GPF has such a rich history, and preserving that context is important to the organization’s future.
Having more time has also brought me two additional gifts, both of which have made clear that our impact on the wider tzedakah world is anything but insignificant. The first is the chance to look back. As I go through old records, recalling early grantees and occasionally reaching out to
see where they are today, I am sometimes stunned by what they tell me, so many years later. One wrote recently: “A long time ago, you found the good in me and I was able to help 12 million veterans get access to care and benefits. You ARE the woman who threw me back when I was suffocating.”
The second gift is the time to write. For years, the work itself left little room for reflection. Now I can sit with stories like Dr. Ruth Moore’s (referenced above) and put them into words, to share with others.
I look forward to staying in touch. What a blessing it has been to help create this unique and impactful organization.
