my giving tree

For months I have wanted to write a blog post about my dad and how he taught me about philanthropy, but I couldn’t quite figure out how to do it.  You see, he didn’t sit me down and go over a giving plan, or tell me that he gave to this or that cause and why.  I knew that he had given his time, talent and treasure to many organizations and sat on many boards and committees over the years, but beyond big news, he didn’t really talk about it.

But I always felt it – a giving spirit, an attitude of service, a commitment to helping people.  I knew that part of my passion for philanthropy came inherently from him.

Then, it hit me.  A few months ago, I was reading Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree to my little boy and I couldn’t stop crying.  I had visited my dad at home in his hospital bed earlier that day, and he was getting pretty weak.  I felt for the first time that he may not get better, that my dad who had always been there may not be there for much longer, and it hurt.  As I read the story of the boy and tree, I couldn’t help but see myself and my dad.  I realized that throughout my life he had been the giving tree for me, and for so many people. 

When I was young, he took care of me and I loved him and he was happy.  Then as I grew up, moved all over the place, and started my own family, he was still always there supporting me when I came back.  And even when I left again he was happy, but the sad kind of happy when you see your kids leave.  In the same way, he gave to our family, he gave to his clients, he gave to his friends, and he gave to his community...and he was happy.

In the simplest terms, that is how he taught me about philanthropy, by example, by living it out. He gave and he gave and he was happy.

Toward the end, I hope that he knew that as I sat next to his bed and he couldn’t talk anymore and he felt like the tree stump that had nothing to give, that I appreciated it all.  That all of that giving made me who I was, shaped my decisions and my life.  I hope that he wasn’t sorry, that he knew that I felt like the boy, that I didn’t need anything else, just a quiet place to sit and rest. Even in the end, he was still giving me something. He was giving me peace.

The narrative to The Giving Tree can be found here:  http://allpoetry.com/poem/8538991-The_Giving_Tree-by-Shel_Silverstein.

Speaking of giving, this is something I wrote for my dad as his last birthday gift.  It tells a little bit more of the story.

We are planning a birthday party for my dad.  It is his 65^th birthday and the movie Meet Joe Black keeps popping into my head.  It will not be quite that extravagant, more of a backyard barbeque than a who’s who of the New York elite, but I sympathize with the daughters in the film.  If you haven’t seen it, it is based on the Death of a Salesman story.  Basically, Brad Pitt is death and he comes for Anthony Hopkins who is a big media tycoon.  But, before taking him, Death wants to experience human life, so he follows Hopkins’ character around, but he is not allowed to tell anyone who Death really is.

In the film, Hopkins’ character has two daughters who are planning a birthday party for their father.  They wanted to make the night unforgettable, which is what I hope to do for my Dad.  “Sixty-five years, doesn’t it go by in a blink,” Hopkins character says in his birthday speech.  My Dad is not exactly being followed around by Brad Pitt, aka death, but he is in a way.  A few years ago he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer and his prognosis is like a not-so-witty Brad Pitt following him around, forcing him to question and make decisions about his life’s work and his family.

I am reminded of the scene in the film when Hopkins asks his daughters to come to dinner two nights in a row (not a common occurrence) if they are not busy, and they laughingly accept saying that he is usually the busy one.   Like the family in the film, I have noticed that our family is trying a little bit harder.  We have always been a pretty strong family.  We have never had major conflicts.  I love my parents and my brothers.  I have never stopped speaking to them.   I would never doubt that they would be there for me if I needed them, and vice versa.  But I have noticed that we are trying harder to make time, to make family a priority, to be more honest.  

An urgency to life develops when facing the prospect of death.  We have tried to share meals more often, plan more vacations, and talk more.  We have tried.  

It is still hard though, to say everything you want to say without sounding morbid or pessimistic or too touchy-feely.  How do you explain how important someone is to that very person?  I sometimes worry that my dad will think of himself as merely a caregiver and breadwinner, that he will not realize the depth of his legacy.  I worry that he will not realize how much he has made me into the person that I am, and how I am so proud of that.  I am an adventurer, someone that cares about my family and community, someone that has integrity and wit.

He started from humble beginnings.  After his tour in the Air Force, he brought my mom and brothers from the Philippines and lived with my grandma in Indian Heights.  With the GI Bill and working two jobs, he made his way through college, became a CPA and started his own practice, which is now 35 years old and well-respected in town. 

My first vivid memories are of him helping me with school projects.  For one class, we were studying Native Americans and had to build a wigwam and carve a kachina doll.  I may have gathered some twigs, but I remember my dad doing the carving and gluing.  I remember the family vacations to Washington D.C., St. Louis, out west to Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon.  Having children now, I understand the patience and love those trips must have taken. 

For years, I watched how he cared for my “foster” grandparents, friends of his mother who had passed away before I was born.  He visited them every day after work for years, went with them on trips to Minnesota and Canada.  They had no children of their own and he took care of them until the end.  He was with each of them as they died.  That kind of care is rare to see.  Even now, working for human services organizations, I get to see glimpses of that kind of compassion, but seeing his humble care truly made an impact on me.

I am the adventurous one (travel-wise) of my siblings.  I spent years living abroad and in larger cities around the U.S., but I could not have done it without my parents support, without their spirit.  I am sure they worried.  As a mother now, I can only imagine how much.  But they knew it was me, that they raised me somehow to take risks, to be a part of the bigger world.  My dad told me my wedding day was one of the best days of his life.  After his loving father-of-the-bride speech, several friends said, “I wish he was my dad.”  I am so thankful he is mine.

I imagine him being there to pass on his love and care to my own children as they grow up, and pray that they will have a chance to go fishing with their grandpa like I did.  But if not, I know for sure that they will still know him through me, through my character, through my brothers.  Until then, we will enjoy the present, celebrate birthdays and Sunday dinners, go on vacation and talk on the phone.  After all, it goes by in a blink.  

To make a memorial gift to the Robert C. Bucheri Endowment Fund, please visit the Community Foundation of Howard County’s website at http://www.cfhoward.org/.

still inspired

It has been over a year since my last post, but that is not reflective of how inspired I have been over the last year.  I continue to find out about organizations and people that are moving mountains without being noticed.  I recently became a member of a group called OPTIONS through the Women's Fund, a part of the Central Indiana Community Foundation.  Over the next year, we will be participating in site visits to nonprofits that serve women and girls.  I hope to share some of that experience here.

Here is a link to a blog post that I wrote about our first site visit to Concord Neighborhood Center.  Enjoy!  http://www.womensfund.org/blog-and-news/2013/february/in-it-for-the-long-haul

lessons from dogs and Oprah

People that are close to me know that I love Oprah. I read her magazine, I listen to her advice. She inspires me. For those that don’t necessarily love her, my request is that you give her the benefit of the doubt as you read this post. There is no question that she has done amazing work in the world of philanthropy, not only in the form of donating millions to a variety of causes, but also by encouraging others to give through her Angel Network, and by highlighting important causes to support, which brings us to the cause I want to highlight.

In 2009 Oprah did a show with actress Glenn Close, in which she talked about an organization that made a difference in her life, Puppies Behind Bars. It is a program in which inmates train puppies to become service dogs for wounded veterans. The show was amazing. I cried, Oprah cried, I think everyone in the audience cried. If you watch the clip, you will probably cry too.

A few weeks ago on Oprah’s new Lifeclass show, she highlighted the story again as part of a broader theme called, “What animals can teach us.” (I cried again.) I am not an outspoken dog lover or animal rights activist. I like dogs. I had a few growing up. But what hit me about the story were the relationships – between the dogs and the inmates, and the dogs and the veterans, and how these relationships made such a profound impact on everyone’s lives. In the Lifeclass segment Oprah talked about how the Puppies program is so amazing because it is a win-win-win idea. It positively impacts the lives of the inmates, of the dogs, of the soldiers, and even those just hearing about the program, like me. That is a combination that is hard to find.

I have always been a human rights activist in my own way, and I have always had an interest in improving the justice system. When I read Dead Man Walking, I wanted to be Sr. Helen Prejean. When I was in 5^th grade, my first speech was about why we should abolish the death penalty. I was so passionate about it, I got an A+. I have heard so many stories about injustice in the justice system. I have learned about a system that discards inmates and treats them like less than human beings. I understand that people need to be punished for committing crimes, but it does not mean that they are worthless. In many cases, the story that leads to a person committing a crime is complex, and often involves bigger issues like poverty, racism, and ignorance.

I love the Puppies story because it is about not giving up on people. Someone decided, instead of spending billions of dollars on prisons and just letting inmates sit there and rot, let’s look beyond the punishment part and try to change some lives. Let’s give people the benefit of the doubt. Let’s give them a chance to do something good. And that something good will move on to become something even better for our wounded veterans, who are another group of people that often get discarded – or at least do not receive adequate support when they return home from their service. Win-win-win.

I wonder if the puppies know what kind of impact they are making!

I found out there is actually a program like this where I live called, Indiana Canine Assistant Network. I am planning to attend their information session at the women’s prison called, “If these dogs could talk.” I am sure that I will cry. But even more, I am sure that I will be inspired. I will feel hopeful and engaged. And at the end of the day, that is what it is all about.

Image by Federico Stevanin.

running for good

After a short stint away from the blog world, I am back. During my time away, I have been inspired more than ever by the lives, stories, books, events and places that I have had the opportunity to learn about and experience. As I enter a new chapter, back home again in Indiana, I have had the chance to connect with friends and colleagues who are doing amazing things in the name of philanthropy.

What I have noticed recently is that so many people are out there trying to make a difference, raise awareness, solve problems and improve the world. It seems infectious.

I also noticed that the last three donations that I have made personally were to support friends who were walking or running and raising money to fund research and support services to combat health problems – specifically the March of Dimes, the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and the ALS Association.

It has always been a gift to me to be able to support friends this way. Each time I read their stories and hear what they are doing, I am excited to see how they have made a commitment not only to get involved, learn more about the cause, and share their story, but also to run the race, to physically DO SOMETHING. It’s a healing and support for the person and everyone around them. When someone you love is sick or has died, sometimes it is all you can do to run; it is all you can do to give - to take all the grief and frustration and pain, and run it out.

It takes an enormous amount of strength and courage to turn a struggle like that into something positive. But participating and focusing on the good can be the only way to get through it. When it seems like there is nothing you can do. You can’t find a cure. You can’t heal their wounds. You can’t save their life. You can at least run. You can at least help the people that are trying to find the cure. You can at least support them, fight for them, and remember them.

So I encourage you to walk or run or support your family and friends that are. It causes a ripple effect, and heals and inspires everyone involved. (Team in Training is a great way to get started.)

I also have a special request in memory of Jessica Kochis Fedeli, who I will someday run a marathon for. Jessica was one of my community-mates when I did a year of service in New York City. She led a life of faith, compassion and courage, and her spirit, commitment and everlasting optimism inspired those who knew her.

Jessica passed away in May 2008 after a long battle with cancer. For the past two years, we have held a benefit in honor of her and have donated the proceeds to Good Shepherd. In lieu of a formal event this year, we are asking for your support in Jessica’s honor in order to continue the very valuable work provided by committed volunteers like Jessica.

While at Good Shepherd, Jessica served at St. Helena’s, where she helped troubled and disadvantaged teenage girls transition to adulthood and learn to use their strengths to become productive individuals in our society. Jessica had an extraordinary impact on many of the young women with whom she worked, and they made an impact on her as well. So much so that she spent another year working for the program and later gave her time to be a support person for future groups of volunteers.

In honor of Jessica, please consider making a donation to Good Shepherd Volunteers, which meant so much to Jessica and has made a difference in the lives of so many women and children. You can donate online by clicking here. Thank you.

simple wins

You may have seen the recent stories on Greg Mortenson, a builder of schools in Afghanistan and Pakistan, and author of the book, Three Cups of Tea. Former supporters have been questioning his use of funds and the accuracy of his statements regarding the number of schools he has built. I have not read Three Cups of Tea, but it has been referred to me several times and I have heard about the amazing work that Mortenson has done.

The recent stories have sparked a few good conversations about the fact that though philanthropy can be inspiring and heart-warming, it is not perfect. It is not always cut and dry, or about the thousands that are saved, or the 100% graduation rate, or finding the cure. Sometimes (often times) it is about the hard work, the difficult challenges, and the simple win. This idea reminds me of the Starfish Story, which is adapted from The Star Thrower by Loren Eiseley.

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work. One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up. As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young man paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”

“I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?” asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.”

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, “But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!”

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, “I made a difference to that one!”

I see this where I work too. The most impact that we make isn’t necessarily that we brought up reading scores for 100% of the students or helped them all get diplomas, though that is what we strive for. It is that we were there for a student and her family when she lost her mother, giving her support and love, when the last thing on her mind was school. It’s hard to measure that kind of support, that kind of work. It’s hard to be able to explain to donors, supporters and the public what exactly happened, what changed.

I haven’t written about many health-care and social service agencies yet, but I know that they often face the same difficulty with proving that what they are doing is worthwhile. I recently saw a story on Elizabeth Taylor and her founding of amfAR, the first foundation for AIDS research. Back in the 80s she and a group of doctors knew that the AIDS epidemic was being ignored and misrepresented. It was not a popular cause at the time and not much was known about the disease, but they knew that research needed to be done. More than that they knew that they had to work to spread the word and debunk myths about the disease, so that first people would start to understand it, and then hopefully be inspired to find a cure.

Much of the work that happens at nonprofit organizations is overcoming challenges and making small breakthroughs that no one will ever see or understand. But that’s one of the most important reasons why we have to keep going and we have to keep giving. It takes faith to believe that the work means something to someone, and that that’s enough.

Next time you are introduced to a cause or an organization that you may be interested in supporting, yes, do your homework to make sure it’s a place that you trust. But also look beyond the big results and think about the simple wins – the lives affected in small, undocumented ways.

common threads

The blog has taken a backseat these last few weeks, but not for lack of inspiration. I am lucky to be surrounded in my life and in my work by a community of gracious and generous people who move me to open my heart and mind, and always be ready to listen, learn and be inspired.

This weekend I attended a coffee house event at the Bro. David Darst Center for Justice & Peace Spirituality & Education. Over the years I had heard tidbits about the Center and knew a few people on the Board, but I didn’t really see how important and unique it was until this weekend.

The mission of the Center is to provide “learning and immersion opportunities that explore issues of social justice through the lens of Christian social teachings of peace, justice and respect for human dignity and the environment. They seek to inspire a responsive, active faith, a commitment to serve and a passion for social change.”

The way it was explained to me was that the Center hosts and organizes groups to visit and serve at nonprofit organizations throughout the city. Then they follow through with teaching, discussion and “processing” afterwards, so that the experience becomes more than a one-time service project. It becomes an opportunity for deeper understanding of issues of justice and peace. I have never heard of a place like this, and I love the idea. It reminds me of urban plunges or Spring Break service trips, but taken to the next level.

What surprised me, and also served as a reminder, were the combination of familiar and new faces that I saw there. Sometimes in life when you are so involved in your work and the everyday grind, you forget that there are people everywhere that share the same beliefs and values as you do – not just on a superficial level, but profoundly.

Often our society focuses on differences, which is unfortunate – and harmful. It’s important to take the time to gather over coffee once in a while and remember we have more in common than we think.

I overheard conversations from older Brothers and Sisters about the state of education and poverty in the city and what is being done to change it. I have these conversations a lot, but it was invigorating to hear others talk about it so passionately as well. I heard music and shared laughter with younger people who have an unbridled enthusiasm about getting out there and making change (not that people my age don’t get out there sometimes too:)

It seems like a theme across the organizations that I’ve written about – and maybe philanthropy in general – that there are people across all walks of life that share and believe in the same things. Not everyone may have the same political or religious beliefs that I do. But something about philanthropy helps to bring me and those that don’t share my beliefs closer together.

recovery through fair trade

It has been a difficult week. I can’t help but feel a sense of sadness watching the images of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan and thinking about those that were lost as well as those that survived, but lost everything. At the end of this post, I will share some organizations that focus on immediate relief efforts, but seeing all of the tragedy led me not just to think about relief, but also about recovery.

The word “recovery” has been used quite a bit these last few years – recovery efforts after natural disasters, economic recovery after the housing market fell apart. A word that used to make me think of someone healing in the hospital after an accident (“in recovery”), now stirs up images of rebuilding infrastructure, lives and societies.

In 1991, the second largest volcanic eruption took place in my mother’s home country of the Philippines. The volcano, called Mt. Pinatubo, is about 55 miles northwest of the capital city of Manila. It was ‘awakened’ by a 7.8 magnitude earthquake that occurred in 1990, and smaller quakes that occurred throughout the 12 months afterward. About 30,000 people lived in the immediate vicinity of the volcano. Thousands more were displaced due to the heavy ash and subsequent torrential rains. Approximately 800 died. The U.S. military base that was close to the area was evacuated and never reopened in the aftermath. The country was forever changed in many ways.

When I was in the Philippines in 2000, I had the opportunity to visit the area because of my connection to an organization called Handcrafting Justice, a fair trade organization that works in partnership with women around the world to create economic opportunities – in this case an opportunity for recovery. The women at the site that I visited made statues from the ashes of the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo. I had the chance to tour the town, much of which was buried under the hardened ash.

It was amazing to see the process of making, distributing and selling the statues from start to finish, and gain a deeper understanding of how meaningful the partnership with Handcrafting Justice was for these women, their families and the community. I was able to visit a school nearby and see the children happily at play. It was evident that the natural disaster had changed the area a decade earlier, but the community had slowly come back to life.

Handcrafting Justice is one of their many amazing ministries of the Sisters of the Good Shepherd. Its mission is to work with women and those in social and economic distress to promote human dignity and justice by creating opportunities for economic and social transformation. They provide opportunities for women around the world to make crafts and sell them in the U.S. for fair trade prices. The Sisters and their networks hold sales at parishes and have a website where you can purchase items directly. Their website explains their work well:

By supporting Fair Trade initiatives, we are supporting individuals and farmers who face unjust wages and conditions, and are vulnerable to exploitation. Our Fair Trade marketplace is a smart investment that helps women in developing countries break the cycle of poverty by using their skills and cultural traditions to market and sell authentic crafts. The dollars you spend on our products provide women in developing countries with hope and the economic, educational, health, and spiritual assistance that can transform their lives, families and communities.

More than disaster recovery, the women who work with Handcrafting Justice symbolize another kind of recovery for me – a recovery of certain values. Remember when we paid people fairly for their work and goods, when we honored them for their creativity, considered their welfare, and looked beyond the price tag. Fair trade organizations, and many small businesses for that matter, remind me that we are more than consumers. When we make a purchase, we are getting more that a vase or a blanket, we are getting a part of someone’s time and work and livelihood.

Over the years I have often made purchases through Handcrafting Justice and other fair trade shops, but in the world of big box stores where you can buy anything you ever wanted, it’s easy to forget the importance of shops like these. I would ask you to consider thinking twice, especially when you are looking for a unique and meaningful gift. Handcrafting Justice can ship items throughout the country, and other local stores like Ten Thousand Villages in Oak Park and Global Gifts in Indianapolis specialize in fair trade goods as well.

The women in the Philippines literally rose out of the ashes to be a productive community again. I hope and pray that those in Japan can do the same. Here are a few organizations that were recommended by friends to support the relief effort: Japan Society, Doctors Without Borders, and Save the Children.