How it Began…

I’ve spent my entire career in philanthropy, starting at the American Cancer Society right out of college. But the truth is, it started long before that.

Growing up, giving was just part of life. Giving a small portion of my allowance each week at church and watching my parents quietly help families around us who needed it.

One moment stuck with me.

A single mom at our church needed a car to get to work and support her family. My parents decided we were going to make that happen. Around the same time, my mom was managing a shopping center when a tenant disappeared overnight, leaving behind thousands of carpet samples, which were the perfect size for doormats.

So we loaded them up and spent four weekends selling them for a dollar each at a flea market outside of Austin. It was hard work, but it was fun. We were raising money for a car while also helping people walk away with something useful for just a dollar. Being part of that, I fell in love with the creativity and energy of the open-air market, and I still love vintage and flea markets for that reason.

But what made it meaningful was why we were there.

We had a mission as a family. The woman had no idea what we were doing, and every dollar went toward getting her a car. The more we sold, the better the car.

By the end, we had raised over $1,200, enough for a solid used car in the 80s. I remember walking into church that Sunday with the check. It was a surprise, and we were all giddy. I remember her reaction. The tears. The disbelief. The joy. And most importantly, the relief she had immediately that she was going to be able to make ends meet for her family. 

But what stayed with me most was the feeling I felt inside. That doing something together, something simple and scrappy, could change someone’s life, but also bring so much joy to us, the givers. 

That was the beginning for me.

There’s a part of me that wishes philanthropy always looked like this. A giver motivated by pure intent, and someone on the other side with a real, tangible need they can’t meet on their own. But after nearly 30 years working with nonprofits and philanthropists, I’ve learned it’s often much more complicated.

Now that I don’t work for a specific nonprofit, I feel free to share not just the good, but the complicated side of philanthropy. I call it fauxlanthropy (faux·lan·thro·py): the appearance of giving to the community without caring about the impact.

This isn’t a series meant to bash philanthropists or nonprofits, but an honest look at the real dynamics and challenges on both sides of giving and receiving.

I’m approaching this not just from my own experience but also with insights and conversations from leaders I deeply respect, and with curiosity rather than judgment.

Because at the end of the day, I believe we all want to make a positive impact on our community.