The Power of One-to-One Connections

This is a follow-up to my story about assisting Chandan, a young man who had never lived in his own place, was not employed and needed help caring for his 3-year-old daughter. For more on the original story, read here for the beginning and here for the unfortunate ending.

There are so many lessons to be learned in this experience. The biggest one I'll be adhering to is to donate to organizations instead of to the people those organizations are helping, unless it's someone I personally know and trust. But there are other, smaller, more hopeful lessons to be learned. Truly, every day that someone reached out to me to ask what Chandan needed or made a donation to the GoFundMe campaign, my heart filled with gratitude. 

I learned that people genuinely want to help others in need. One of the reasons why the fundraiser for Chandan was so successful was because all of the donations were helping one person who shared his story. The need was clear, the impact of giving was obvious. In the Twin Cities there's an organization called Bridging that basically does exactly what my donation drive was doing: provides furniture and household goods to people coming out of homelessness into housing. People donated furniture to my request and not to Bridging. Why? Because mine was going to a single person with a face, a name and a story that they could understand.

I also was surprised by the number of people who, when the donations fell through, asked for their donations back. I'm not saying they are greedy, my point is that they weren't going to give these things away in the first place. They were inspired by his story and chose to give away items that they intended to use themselves.

Some more incredible stories of generosity that inspired me in the past few weeks:

• A woman shared the story of having to escape an abusive situation early in her life. She was able to do so thanks to the generosity of complete strangers who supported her after she got to a safe place. She considered her donations as a way to pay back for the kindness shown to her years before.
• One person had thousands of Amazon points in her account. She used the points to buy a brand new, adorable bedding set for his daughter, new kitchen supplies, cleaning supplies, a hamper, and other items that people experiencing homelessness usually don't own. She was happy to be able to use the points to help someone else when she could have used them for her own family.
• Someone reached out to me after the donation drive had been going for a while to ask what was still missing. I had secured dining room chairs but not a table. She went to a local Goodwill, purchased a table for $50 and her husband refinished it for Chandan's apartment. The labor of love that went into this was so inspiring! When the donation fell through, they decided to keep the table and will use it as a card table in their basement. 
• One of the donors runs her own company staging houses for sale. She has a garage and basement filled with furniture, small appliances, household goods and other items that have never actually been used, just displayed and then put back in storage. It struck me how she owns nearly two households worth of goods while people in other areas of our city don't even have one. I'm not faulting her for her company or what she does, it's simply another example of the difference between the "haves" and the "have nots." 

When our house was remodeled in 2016 we made a significant donation to Bridging, getting rid of furniture that was perfectly good, just no longer needed. One of the workers who came to pick up the items said, "Wow, this stuff is in really good shape. This is better than the furniture we usually get."

People in my community put decent furniture like ours on the curb for solid waste pick-up every week, while people in other areas of this city would love to have that piece of furniture in their home, yet they don't have the transportation to retrieve it. For many of my friends and family, making a $100 donation to help someone out is no big deal, while for someone else, an extra $100 means they don't have to choose between rent or food that month. 

I've done a lot of learning about the history of Minneapolis, about how white people kept Blacks out of the desirable areas in Southwest Minneapolis using racial covenants and redlining practices and how BIPOC folks were given little choice but to live in what is now the notoriously poor North side. The disparity between the resources of North side and the wealth of the Southwest area is staggering. I have to believe that there is a way to make a direct connection between those with excess to give with those in need.

I'm not going to be fundraising for a single person again, but I will be reaching out to organizations working in the North side neighborhoods to see how I can help make connections to people in my area of the city. There's got to be a way we can do more to help people in my own city. 

"Trust" is a Big Word

I need to complete the final chapter of the story of assisting young Chandan White. Things did not turn out as expected. 

I had reached out to Chandan because I saw a young man in need, asking for help and not getting his needs met despite his multiple requests in the "Twin Cities Mutual Aid" group on Facebook. One of the challenges of our city and society is that we all live and work in segregated circles. People who have more than enough live among other people who have more than enough. People who need assistance live among people who need assistance. So when poor people cry out for help, the only people who hear them are other poor people.

I started a GoFundMe for Chandan with a goal of $5,000 and, through a generosity of spirit, people responded. Within a day the fundraiser was at $1,000, by the end of the week it was at $3,000. This was a far cry from the $5 and $10 Chandan had been receiving previously through the mutual aid network.

Those who donated began to ask what else Chandan may need...so I asked him. People had furniture to donate, did he need furniture? Did he need kitchen supplies? I asked and he said yes, he needed everything. 

I asked him to put together a list of what he needed but he didn't know where to start, which makes sense considering he's never had his own place before. Being a project manager and Excel geek, I put together a spreadsheet of what I thought he may need and ran it by him. I did not want to be a pushy donor, getting things for someone who doesn't need the items and is too polite to turn me down. I called myself a "meddling white woman" to him in a message and told him to tell me to back off if he needed me to. He "LOL'd." 

With the incredible generosity of my friends and community, I managed to get an entire apartment of furniture and supplies donated. The only thing missing was a sleeper sofa — the apartment was a studio and his bed had to also be his couch, and that's a purchase better made by the person who would be using it.

He and I arranged to meet at the apartment complex on April 1 at 11 a.m., move-in day. I coordinated with my sister Kristi and a neighborhood volunteer, we packed all the items into our three cars and drove to the apartment complex. 

No Chandan. And...when I inquired at the management office about helping Chandan moving in, she told me that they did not have someone by that name renting from them. They have a months-long wait list for people who have applied for housing, no one was moving in April 1 as no one had moved out.

Chandan and I had only ever communicated via messenger and other social media sites. I had reached out to him the day before to confirm that we were meeting him there, only to get a message that "this person is no longer available." It was suspicious, but we still showed up as he and I had agreed, only he wasn't there and there was clearly no apartment for him.

I was angry. Embarrassed. My heart actually hurt that day, a heaviness lay on my chest thinking that the entire story had been a scam. 

The three of us brought everything back to my house and stored it in the garage. I let it simmer a few days, hoping (but not hoping) that perhaps something had happened to him, that he would reach out to me eventually with a reason why things fell through.

Nothing.

Five days later, I informed the community that had generously made all of these donations what had happened and offered to return them or donate them to nonprofits where they would eventually go to those in need. I also encouraged people who donated to the GoFundMe — which at this point had raised $4,400 — to report the fundraiser and get their money back if they believed fraud had been committed. 

Finally, days after all the donations were being re-distributed and the fundraiser frozen, I heard from Chandan.

He told me that his phone had broke it took a few days to get a new one, and that he was waiting a week to hear back from the place to see if he was going to be able to move in there, and eventually was going to put a deposit down on a different place if it didn't work out. This was all via text. I asked to talk, and he called me.

I give him credit for calling me. 

When I look back at our many text conversations and think back to our discussion over a plate of French toast, I don't believe that his entire story is untrue. I think he is someone who doesn't understand how securing an apartment works, has no idea of the amount of work it takes to put together a household, and doesn't want to say "no" to a woman twice his age who wants to help. He told me he was able to buy a vehicle, which I was glad for, as that was a part of why we were raising money for him. If that's what he used the money for, then great, it will help him secure employment.

By the time he and I chatted I was over my anger and grief and had informed everyone involved of the outcome. I let him know that the fundraiser had been reported. I have no idea how much money he has withdrawn from it or how he's spent it. He thanked me for everything I did for him to help him get a car.

I was relating this entire experience to someone who works in the nonprofit world. I said that within the Mutual Aid Network, people gave to others in the hopes that their stories of need were true. It's one of the reasons why people only give $5 or $10, because if the need wasn't real then at least it was just a small amount. She said to me, "Trust is a big word."

And she's right. When we as donors give to a nonprofit, we have a base line of trust. To become a 501c3, paperwork must be filed, bylaws written and adhered to, and donor intent is the golden rule. I had taken a leap outside of the world of nonprofits and had gotten burned.

Clearly, I will no longer be fundraising directly for those in need, but giving to the organizations that exist to help them.

Courage and Hope

[ID: Painting of a solitary tree on a hill with the words "Be strong enough to stand alone, smart enough to know when you need help, and brave enough to ask for it." Attributed to Mark Amend]

I am a member of a Facebook Group called 'Twin Cities Mutual Aid Network." It's made of over 2,000 members of people down on their luck, and other people who have the ability to help them. Most requests are for $20 for gas, $100 for a security deposit, $50 to help give a little girl a birthday party. Those who are able to donate typically give $5 or $10, a micro-donation amount, and when everyone pools their money these needs get met. 

The pandemic has been unequally unfair to low-income workers and to women, and it is primarily these people who make up the Facebook group, not people like me who are doing fine through all of this.

One of the challenges of this group is that those asking and those giving are going entirely on trust. Donors trust that those who are describing their situations are painting a real picture of what they need, and because there's no way to verify that, the donation amounts are small. The administrators do a good job of monitoring this — one person was kicked out of the group for asking for assistance for her kids but was using photos of her friends' kids to get help (she doesn't have children).

I noticed a man continuing to post throughout asking for assistance. First it was to help pay for repairs for his car, then his car got towed because it sat so long in one place, to money to pay for a hotel so he could have a place for him and his daughter, to money for a security deposit on an apartment. Each time, he never received quite enough to get by. 

He and I got connected via messenger and started chatting. He needed way more help them he was ever going to get in micro-donations. I asked if he would be willing to meet, to tell his story, so that I could rally to get him more meaningful support. He agreed.

We met at Fat Nat's Eggs in New Hope, close to his cousin's apartment where he was staying the night. I asked if he would entrust me with his story, so I could write about his situation and create a GoFundMe page for him. He agreed. You can read the story here, and make a donation if you'd like.

Some of the things he told me brought me back to Dr. Ibram Kendi's book, Stamped from the Beginning, which I read this past summer. 

When he was a senior in high school, he was accused of being involved in an incident that occurred at the school. Chandan was physically intimidated and interrogated by a police officer about his involvement in this incident, roughly pushed up against a wall with his hands forced behind him.  As Chandan points out, if the police had evidence they wouldn't have needed to intimidate him or attempt to get him to confess to something he hadn't been a part of. This is a 17-year-old boy — Chandan is a slight figure, tall and slim. Would a white teenager have been treated so roughly? Because of this incident he left school and never earned his high school degree. He was certain that the police were going to continue to harass him until they eventually charged him with something.

Now, during this pandemic, Chandan is looking for work. He had heard from an acquaintance that a hotel near him was hiring a slew of housekeeping positions because they anticipated that business would start to return soon. He and his friend, a woman, both put in their applications the same day. She was called the next day for an interview and hired on the spot. He was called the day after and interviewed. The hiring manager told him, "If I don't call you by the end of the week, please call me and I'll let you know." Chandan did as he asked and when he talked to the hiring manager on Friday of that week was informed that all the positions had been filled. The manager used this tactic to fill all the positions with people other than Chandan and then turn him down. I'm not sure if Chandan was being discriminated against because of his race or his gender, but once again, he didn't get what he needed.

He and I spoke of his hopes for the future and for his daughter, who is cute as a button. It takes great courage to ask for help and abundant hope that you'll receive it. I am hoping that Chandan gets the help that he needs through this endeavor.

New Workplace

From a #MSPSMB presentation during my time of underemployment.

I started a new job recently.  I'm trying not to make a habit of it, so I'd better stay at this one a while.

I accepted a position as the new Director of Annual Giving at Minneapolis Heart Institute Foundation. And when I say "new" I mean that they've never had a director of annual giving before. They recently restructured their organization and decided that they needed this expertise full time. It was a perfect match with my skills, plus I LOVE being a part of creating something new; I get to play to my strengths since the role is not rigidly defined.

The building I work in is a part of the Abbott Northwestern Hospital/Allina campus. There are a total of 6 or 7 buildings in this complex, and I was really nervous about finding my way around. But I've found a lot of great things about being on a big campus.

1. There are lots of food choices. There's the hospital cafeteria, the skyway café or Midtown Global Market, which is an entire building of every kind of ethnic food you could possibly want to try.

2. There's a beautiful inner court with gardens, water fountains and plenty of seating. Need a break from your desk? Take a walk and breathe in the fresh air.

3. Parking is a breeze (now). I confess, the first day I ended up climbing and descending four flights of stairs to make it from the parking ramp to my desk, but now that I've figured it out, I'm actually closer to my office from the parking ramp than I was when I worked at Gillette. Plus no outside time walking on an icy sidewalk down a steep hill. Bonus.

4. The campus is right off the Midtown Greenway bike trail. There's a cycle shop that's right on the greenway that will let you store your bike and use their showers for a measly $15/month. Once you're in the bike shop you're on campus, so I can reach my building through the tunnels or skyways. Now I just have to figure out how to do the whole kid drop-off thing in the morning so I can bike there in the summer.

5. The office is 15 minutes from my house. I take three turns to get to work (four if you include getting out of my driveway). I don't take a single highway. I am thrilled with my commute!

There are also some perks to the job that I'm liking.

1. My boss is really cool and smart. Plus his name is John, and considering that I've reported to a John for the majority of my professional working career, I knew this position was a possibility from the first interview.

2. Everyone is so gosh darn nice! There was a beautiful blooming plant on my desk my first day of work. Everyone I met had a big smile on their face and said, "We're so glad you're here!" Every team member is competent at his/her job and wants to work collaboratively with others to accomplish the goals set forth (at least that's my take so far). Trust me, that's a hard one to find.

3. My expertise is valued. I've been digging into data the last couple of weeks (pivot table porn!) and looking at what's gone on before to determine how to structure the program moving forward. Each suggestion I've made has been met as if it's the most brilliant thing anyone has ever said. Okay, so that's not totally true, but it feels good to be appreciated.

4. They have a healthy food policy. No dishes of chocolates at anyone's desks. No break room filled with treats. This may sound like a bummer, but this is actually an amazing thing for me! My downfall has always been snacking at work. When I first started at Gillette I lost nearly 10 pounds in 3 months. That's what happened when I arrived at a new place and didn't know who had the secret stashes of chocolate, didn't know the people well enough to ask for some or, as I was doing at Paradysz, just helping myself to it. I have absolutely NO control when it comes to sweets. The fact that sweets are not approved is THRILLING to me and my health!

5. They encourage physical activity. Minneapolis Heart Institute Foundation is all about preventing heart disease through healthy lifestyles choices. We are participating in the Hennepin County "Step It Up" competition in May, where groups track their activities and see who is the most active/takes the most steps. The fact that this organization is located in a large campus with stairs everywhere already incentivizes walking and movement. I love the fact that they encourage their employees to "walk the walk" when it comes to the mission.

6. Jeans days on Fridays. Having come off a work-from-home gig, where yoga pants were the norm every day, I appreciate the break I get to take from professional wear once a week.

7. My desk is close to the break room and bathroom. It's the small things, but do you know how many times a day I get up to refill my water? And of course, that means extra trips to the bathroom. Luckily both are close but not so close as to be bothersome. At first I was worried about noisy conversations from the break room disturbing me, but then I remembered that usually any noisy conversations have me in it, so I don't have to worry. I'm actually the perfect person to have close to the break room, if you really think about it.

It's been a pretty great two and a half weeks.

Interlude...and A Dream

I don't believe I've ever taken a hiatus from this blog before of this length. It has been nearly 3 months since I last posted. So not typical of me.

So much has happened, I do not know where to begin. So I will begin by saying that it was a needed interlude.

A week after my last post I flew to Indiana and helped my sister Kristi move to Minnesota. Already in the few months she has been here she has become a part of the fabric of our family. She is getting accustomed to the area, the climate, the social and natural offerings and having family close by. Weekly meals at our home are typical. The kids are disappointed when Aunt Kristi *doesn't* come for dinner. We plan outings together, we don't plan outings together but they happen spontaneously anyway. It's been an amazing, wonderful change. As wonderful as it is, it is still change, which can be hard and takes a lot of energy to process.

It is now summer, which means I am waking early in the morning to go skating, instead of staying up late at night to blog. I have committed to appreciating each morning that I do that, and not feeling guilty for the mornings that I intend to, but don't.

Lake Harriet, 6 a.m., June 30, 2014

Even though I haven't written a blog post for quite some time, my phone is still filled with random pictures I take with the beginnings of blog posts in mind. So I still think like a blogger, though I don't write like one.

And then, last night, I had a dream. Sometimes my dreams are just nonsensical, but most of the time they are a reflection of what is going on in my life, so much so that I had to write about it. 

I dreamt that I was driving a car through a construction zone. I was following the car ahead of me as people do in construction zones, keeping a close eye on its bumper as it navigated cones and signs saying to curve this way and that. It drove along a stretch of road that appeared to be an overpass with only a temporary railing of 2x4's nailed up in place along the roadway. The 2x4's had obviously been there for some time and were in some disrepair; they were not going to keep a car on the road if the car ran into them.

We were up in the air now, in an area that was clearly going to be part of some kind of cloverleaf or connection with another highway. Suddenly the car in front of me took an abrupt left, just behind a huge cement pillar, and I couldn't see the turn. I froze. What if it had just driven off the edge and was falling back to earth? What if the signage had told it to turn left but the work wasn't done yet and there was no road? There was no way for me to know if I should follow that car.

I stopped my own car, frozen. Traffic backed up behind me and drivers grew upset. In my dream I was having a full-out panic attack, sobbing and unable to make a move, frozen with fear. Finally someone put their arms around my shoulder and said, "It's okay, just trust. Trust." And suddenly, everything was okay. The honking, the yelling, the noise and the paralyzing fear stopped, and everything was okay.

I never saw a resolution in my dream, but when I awoke I knew that I drove my car around that blind corner, and that everything was fine.

I recently put in my notice at Gillette. I love the people I work with, I have a great passion for what I do and the mission is inspiring and incredible. But signs were telling me that it was time to start considering other opportunities, so I began talking to people in my industry and asking them to keep me in mind. I recently accepted a job on the vendor side of fundraising, working with clients to raise money through telemarketing.

This was left on my desk by a co-worker the day I gave my notice.

It feels like an abrupt left. But I don't think it is.

I think that it will lead me to new skills, new co-workers whom I will enjoy working with as much as I enjoyed my old ones, to learning new things and taking on new challenges. But...it is change. And change is hard and takes a lot of energy. Even the good ones.

So there you have it. The end of the interlude...and a dream.

A Magical Evening

I've been volunteering for a nonprofit called "Children's Lightouse of Minnesota" for nearly two years. This is something I've done in my "free" time, whatever that is.

Children's Lighthouse's mission is to build the first-ever children's hospice in the Midwest. The mission and the need is incredible. There are over 9,000 children living in Minnesota with life-limiting conditions, of which 700 will die every year. The needs of children in these situations is so different from that of adults. They have siblings who wish to be with them, large extended families who become involved in their care, and, after their passing, a different kind of grief for the families to work through.

Unfortunately, the US healthcare system does not value comfort and care in these situations, and there is currently no reimbursement model for children's hospice care. Therefore, there are only 3 children's hospices in the United States, all of which are on the coasts.

That's not why I'm writing this post.

The Home Plate II event for Children's Lighthouse, Hyatt Regency in downtown Minneapolis

A representation of the home and the children it will serve.

I'm writing this because I have come to believe that you get from the universe what you give to the universe.

The executive director of Children's Lighthouse, Katie Lindenfelser, is the most amazing person you will ever meet. She exudes peace. She has a grace and a patience in her manner that makes you take pause. She comes from humble roots, but has somehow managed to make connections with some very wealthy and connected individuals. From Nita Killebrew, the widow of Harmon Killebrew, Twins legend, to the well-known local DJ who volunteers his time to emcee the event, to many others, she has a way of personally connecting people to the mission.

When she talks about the mission, people open up about their own loss, losses that they may have kept quiet about for years. I sat at a table with couples who had not known each other prior to the evening. Throughout the conversation we learned that three of the couples at the table had lost a child, ranging in age from 45 days old to 3 and a half years old. They exchanged hugs and names and vowed to stay in touch. One person at the table is a pediatric hospice nurse who moved here from California, where one of the three hospices is. She is currently not employed but is supporting this hospice because she knows the need and the value. Another is a Medicare reimbursement specialist who is interested in volunteering her time to help CLM figure out how to get reimbursed for its care.

Things just fall together for this organization.

They had an incredibly successful fundraising event. They raised more than $80,000 during one portion of the evening, much less other revenue sources from the evening. It's a fraction of the millions they need to raise to build the home, but with the connections in the room, they will be able to get there.

I am not capturing how amazing this is.

Architectural drawing of the home in its planned location.

This is amazing because the organization has only one employee, Katie, the executive director. Everyone else is volunteering their time. No one has to do this, but everyone chooses to. That's how powerful this mission is, and how much of an inspiration Katie is.

When she was first introduced at the beginning of the evening she got a standing ovation, just for being who she is. The energy and love of that moment is something words cannot capture. Tears came to her eyes, she was so moved by the gesture.

I am honored to know her and to be a part of this incredible organization.

P.S. If you'd like to learn more about Children's Lighthouse, go to their website, www.childrenslighthousemn.org. And yes, the website was built and is maintained by volunteers. Other nonprofits are jealous.

Why I Do What I Do

The thought of sleeping is the furthest thing from my mind.

Yes, I've been up at 3 a.m. the last two nights. Yes, I was single-parenting it the last day and a half.

But I can't even think of going to bed.

Because today was Give to the Max Day, a 24-hour online fundraising event in Minnesota. And every year on this day I am reminded why I do what I do.

Because giving to charity FEELS GOOD.

It warms your heart. It puts a smile on your face. It makes you feel all bubbly inside and you want to hug the nearest person to you, even if that person just spent that last 30 minutes grouching at you because you made her do her homework.

And I am always amazed and humbled by the outpouring of support for my employer, Gillette Children's Specialty Healthcare.

The families whose lives we touch, the children who grow to be fully-engaged adults in the world, with jobs and spouses and family and friends, who ask their family and friends to give back because of what Gillette has done for them.

We would like to forget that two generations ago, people who were born with the conditions Gillette treats would be shuttered away in institutions, easily forgotten by society.  But remembering that makes what Gillette does even more remarkable. These are children who overcome incredible challenges to become…ordinary. Everyday, "have a nice day" kind of ordinary.

What a blessing.

And what a blessing to fundraise for this cause, to talk to donors who have been moved by the mission and choose to give, to hear their reasons and their stories of how their lives have been changed, either directly or indirectly. To have them give in amounts unfathomable to me, and have them say, "it is only a token of what Gillette has done for me."

Unbelievable.

Okay, so maybe it's the adrenaline, the lack of sleep and the excitement over the day, but still, there is just something magical about being a part of something so moving.

So here's just a snippet, you can't begin to imagine the challenge of capturing in 30 seconds what Gillette does:


Moving Forward > from Gillette Children's on Vimeo.

And now, the story behind the story.

Moving Ellie Forward from Gillette Children's on Vimeo.

How Planned Parenthood Created an Army

Graph from Planned Parenthood 2009-2010 annual report (link below)

 What an interesting couple of days this has been in the world of fundraising.

If you hadn't heard, Susan G Komen announced on Jan 31st that, due to a new policy they implemented, they have cut funding to Planned Parenthood that pays for breast exams and screenings, to the tune of $680,000. Their new policy was that they cannot fund organizations that are under federal investigation. Guess what, Planned Parenthood is pretty much ALWAYS under investigation, thanks to one of the services they provide to their clients.

Within 24 hours, Planned Parenthood sent an email out to their supporters, asking for their assistance to fill this sudden and unplanned-for gap in funding, so they can continue to provide breast cancer screening to low-income women.

The public's first response was surprise: You mean Planned Parenthood doesn't just abort babies?

Once we all were educated that Planned Parenthood provides many more services than abortion, the collective public became outraged. How could Komen, the leader and most well-known breast cancer brand in the world, choose to cut funding to those who can least afford it? Doesn't this go against Komen's mission?

This blogger did a better job of summarizing what happened than I can; read more of it at the Nonprofit Marketing Guide blog.

The backlash in social media has been immediate and loud. Shame on Komen -- support Planned Parenthood!

Within 24 hours Planned Parenthood had an army of advocates speaking out on their behalf on the social media spectrum, standing up for them and making their voices heard. Within 24 hours after Planned Parenthood's cry for help, the $680,000 gap caused by Komen's decision had almost completely filled by supporters who became donors. I suspect Planned Parenthood has a whole lot of brand new donors who have never given to them before.

The word from Komen's camp?

Silence.

Finally after 2 days had passed, Komen's PR machine began to churn, with Facebook notes, tweets and a push via traditional media to make their voice heard on their change in policy. But at this point 75% of all social media buzz was against Komen and for Planned Parenthood; they have some work to do.

Here's the best part.

I began wondering, "Hmmm...what does $680,000 mean to Planned Parenthood anyway? How big of a gap IS this?"

The answer: Not very.

Planned Parenthood's latest annual report indicates that they receive hundreds of millions of dollars in charitable income, through individual donations, grants, program service revenue and other sources. Their net assets on their most recently filed 990 are $103 million, with gross receipts of $130 million.

Let's see...$680,000 into $130 million...that's .5% of all of their funding. Yes, that's a decimal point in front of that number. That's less than 1% of their total funding.

Wow. All this, over a dollar amount that they probably could've replaced just by asking some of their other sources for a couple more bucks.

But look at what they've done. They've brought over new advocates and supporters to their cause. They've educated the public as a whole as to their mission and how they fulfill it.

I am sure that the long-term impact is that Komen will never fund Planned Parenthood again. If I were Planned Parenthood I would say that that's no big loss, considering the amount of supporters they've gained in this debacle. And Komen is already under attack and has lost walkers and donors, just as they are ramping up in their marketing for the 3-day walks which take place all over the U.S. all summer long.

Ouch.

Well played, Planned Parenthood, well played.

*NOTE: As a disclaimer, I must remind readers that these views are my own and not that of my employer, former employer, husband, dog, great-aunt's second cousin once removed. Just me. Thanks.

Chloe's Fight: Worth Running For

Some of my friends were looking for a race to do together this fall. For fun, you know. Because some people do that. Not usually people I know, but I must've fallen in with the wrong crowd.

Anyway...one of my friends knows a board member of a nonprofit called Chloe's Fight. At the same time, my friend Anita's sister has been deeply involved in organizing Chloe's Fight's first 5k fundraising event. This was destined to be the run for us, so we all signed up.

The ladies -- husbands and children roaming elsewhere.

A little about Chloe's Fight: It is a nonprofit created by Phillip and Erica Barnes to honor their daughter Chloe, who died at age 2 from complications from metachromatic leukodystrophy, or MLD. MLD makes the myelin sheath covering the nerves in the brain slowly degenerate, resulting in loss of gross motors skills to loss of mental capacity, and is usually fatal.

All proceeds from the run will be directed to one of two research projects, one of which is being conducted at the University of Minnesota.

In speaking to Anita's sister, they had only 100 runners signed up until the week before the run, when 300 more people signed up. They ultimately ended up with 500 runners and raised more than $16,000 that day.

The best part? Anita was there, donating her artistic talents to solicit more revenue at the event. She did henna art and glitter tattoos for the kids.

So after completing the 5k in record time (for me, that is), I cut in line in front of a whole bunch of kids to get henna.

Actually, Anita had a break in her littlest customers so I could take my turn.

Anita does amazing work, all free hand. One of her goals in life is to go to India and study with experts in the art of henna. I'm sure some day she'll get there.

Oh yeah, my "record" time? I completed the race in 33 minutes and 34 seconds, or a pace of 10:49. Running usually causes extreme pain in my left knee (one of the reasons why skating is my sport). My knee will miraculously stop aching the minute I stop running: I take that as a sign that I shouldn't run. My knee didn't start aching until the 2 1/2 mile mark, so it was the fastest 5k I've done.

It was an incredible day, filled with friendship, beautiful weather, a good run and a great cause.

Blog Rewind: March of Dimes walk

First, a huge thank you to everyone who donated to my walk for March of Dimes. Last year I raised nearly $1,000, but it had been a stretch last year and I didn't think I could reach it again, so I lowered my goal to $750.

Once again, I was humbled by people's charity. Bit by bit, dollar by dollar, I raised $822 for my walk. Just 24 hours before the walk I was still $200 short of my goal. I made a last-minute plea on my Facebook page, and was surprised and honored by:

• The jr. high friend who donated, even though we haven't seen each other in 30 years. (She moved from my hometown before graduation.)
• A former co-worker of mine who works in another city who donated, even though I no longer work for the company and we hadn't met in person. Ever.
• The relative who donated for the first time.
• Three former neighbors, two of whom moved to other states years ago, who donated.

Of these, only one would have been possible if it hadn't been for a social media network that kept us connected. A huge thank you to everyone who gave to my walk, especially my sister and mother-in-law, both of whom give so generously every year. I couldn't have done it without you.

This year I hadn't planned to actually walk: I thought I would be in sunny California, cheering my husband on as he ran the Big Sur Marathon. But alas, that trip was not to be, so I was able to continue my volunteer committee duties by showing up on the day of the walk to do whatever the staff told me to do.

Despite having been moved back a week to the first Sunday in May, walk day managed to be cold and miserable. It was 34 degrees when I left the house with a sustained 16 mph wind. I deeply regret not going back in right away to get my snowpants. I found out later that meterologists were actually using the term "windchill" for that day because of the effect of the gusting wind, which also managed to blow over one of our tents. I froze until I was numb, at which point I didn't mind the cold because I couldn't feel my ass. Happy May Day.

The volunteer committee showed up at 6:30 a.m. for an 11 a.m. walk. It seemed a little ridiculous to me, especially considering we'd had an event company come out the day before and put up the tents. Really, what could we do that would take up five and a half hours? But I dutifully showed up, fully expecting to spend long minutes in my car, keeping warm.

The first time I got to look at my watch it was nearly 9:00, at which point I did have to go to my car to log on to the laptop, write some tweets and a Facebook status update, then respond or retweet any Twitter mentions. (Greek, right?) I warmed up some, which I deeply regretted the minute I stepped back out to continue with set up, because the cold seemed even more bitter. Finally I called Wayne and asked him to come down and bring my snowpants, which I finally got around 11 o'clock. It wasn't until I had those on that I finally warmed up. Seriously, people.

Families began arriving around 10 o'clock, and I became truly amazed at these family's committment. They came in droves, pushing strollers, pulling wagons, with little ones bundled to the tip tops of their heads. Despite the miserable weather, we had close to the 4,000 expected walkers show up, and raised the $1 million the chapter was hoping to raise.

Many were families personally touched by the mission, wearing t-shirts in memory of their babies born prematurely who hadn't survived, or with pre-schoolers who wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for extraordinary care that they received after being born too soon. It was so touching to see their dedication and see their little ones, walking right along their moms and dads for the cause.

I have no pictures of my own from the day - I was too busy to take any, and my fingers too frozen to operate the camera, anyway. But it was great to experience the walk as a volunteer. I plan to be back again next year to volunteer.