Tag: life

The People Who Already Know the Way

Some of the best ideas don’t come from boardrooms or strategic plans—they come from the people already living the work, day in and day out.

Philanthropy and nonprofits have essential roles to play. But no matter how thoughtful the strategy or well-written the grant, they can’t—and shouldn’t—try to do it all. Real change takes partnership. It takes people who are rooted in their communities and ready to act.

Years ago, when I lived in Cincinnati and worked for the YMCA, a man named J.R. kept calling to find someone to help the kids in his housing complex. There had been a fire that shook the community, and he was determined to restore a sense of joy for the children. After several calls, his message finally landed in my inbox.

We didn’t hold a planning meeting or wait for permission. We just showed up.

The apartment complex gave us space, and I walked in—professionally dressed, coming straight from a full day of work—but I didn’t hesitate. I went straight to the floor, sat criss-cross applesauce with the kids, and asked one simple question: What do you want to do?

Their answers came fast—swimming, basketball, even restoring old shoes. Every Friday night, we made it happen for over a month. We transported the kids to and from the Y, made sure they ate (thanks to local restaurants who donated meals), and had parents rotate as chaperones. It was simple. It was powerful. It was community in motion.

And here’s the truth: I didn’t have time.

At that point, I was the Family Life Director for an entire branch. I was overseeing six school-age programs, three preschool classrooms, a 200-camper outdoor summer camp, and all childcare operations at that branch. I was already working 12-hour days. Oh, and Owen was 4 and Aiden 2.

But somehow, this extra thing became exactly what we all needed.

It wasn’t on a schedule. It wasn’t on a grant report. But it brought me back to the heart of the work. That day—sitting criss-cross applesauce in dress clothes on the apartment floor with kids full of ideas—something shifted. The kids saw it. The parents saw it. I felt it. And I’ve carried it with me ever since.

The kids exploring nutrition.

That day—sitting criss-cross applesauce in dress clothes on the apartment floor with kids full of ideas—something shifted. The kids saw it. The parents saw it. I felt it. And I’ve carried it with me ever since.

Because sometimes, what makes a moment meaningful isn’t how much time you have—it’s whether you choose to show up anyway. It’s about being willing to try something new, even when your plate is full. And when you show up with humility and consistency, the right people—authentic people—will feel it. That’s where trust is built.

And trust is what turns a moment into a movement.

The kids learning how to refurbish their old sneakers.

As we think about what comes next in our sector, let’s remember:

Not everything has to be scaled to have a significant impact.

Not every solution has to start from scratch.

And not every leader needs a title.

Philanthropy can build bridges. Nonprofits can help pave paths. But where are the people already living the experience? They’ve often already imagined what’s possible. They need someone to show up and help bring it to life.

Who are the J.R.s in your community—people with ideas, compassion, and commitment—who need someone to listen, believe, and follow through?

Sometimes, the future is already trying to call. We have to answer.

Thanks to all the people that made Kingz Kids possible! Community at it’s finest.

Thank Mr. J.R. may you rest in peace. 🧡

May 15, 2025
New Begininngs, but Let’s Talk About the Ending.

And a New Kind of Leadership.

April 23, 2025

After nearly seven years of impact, learning, and forward motion, I’m stepping away from a chapter that helped shape me—but never defined me. While I won’t name the organization here, I will honor the work, the people, the transformation—and most importantly, the community that has been at the center of every decision I made.

I have long believed that community will save us.

In the years to come, as the weight of failing systems presses harder, our neighborhoods, families, and youth will require more than what the current philanthropic models, state structures, and federal responses can offer. We will need one another. We will need new tables, new strategies, and new forms of collective imagination.

For those who know me well, this is not the end. This is the alignment I’ve been prepared for—long before the path had language.

You don’t remain part of the movement for 13 years without understanding the environment and the tactics that created it. You don’t lead young professionals, reimagine systems, and build bridges across differences without understanding what is possible when people trust community over control.

I’ve been privileged to walk in many rooms—some welcoming, others resistant. I’ve learned to listen deeply, speak clearly, and stay rooted in values even when the ground shifted beneath me. From Oberlin to Avon, from Xavier’s campus to the Neighborhoods throughout Cincinnati, and back home again—I’ve carried the weight of history and the vision of the future in every step.

This new beginning? It doesn’t fully exist yet. But I’ve known it was coming for a long time.

I’m building something that stretches beyond a job title or a LinkedIn profile. It is part teaching, part remembering, part disruption, and full embodiment. It will live at the intersections of community, storytelling, and strategy.

And it will require all of us.

New Begininngs, but Let’s Talk About the Ending.

Whether you’ve worked with me directly, shared space at an event, been impacted by a conversation, or a moment that shaped your thinking. Your words will help shape what comes next.

📣 Share your story with me → here

Thank you for holding space for what’s next.

And thank you, especially, to those who always saw me clearly.

xoxo britt

April 23, 2025