nonprofits – Lovett and Sons

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.

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.