I was sitting on my beloved back deck reading concept papers for the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation’s Local Funding Partner’s Program. I serve as a member of its National Advisory Board and every year several million dollars in grants are distributed.
The first step in the process is the concept papers. We vote yea or nay and the applicant then moves on to the full proposal stage. So I was making my way through 29 concept papers from across the United States --- from New York to L.A. and Mississippi to Montana.
At one point I was struck by how many of the proposed programs are things that Union Mission has had in place for years. But they are “new and innovative” most every place else. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment over this.
Then I moved on to another feeling. An all too familiar sadness crept into my spirit. The never ending needs of the sick and the poor were evident throughout the papers. As was the fact that good people are trying to help but they are overwhelmed and under-funded. Weariness came over me like I was still at Union Mission.
I left the papers behind, poured myself a glass of wine and put my feet up on the railing and stared at the thousand different shades of green.
After a while, I climbed on my bike and rode to Social, a new restaurant on Tybee Island, where I was meeting Kathryn Preston and her husband Willie for dinner. Kathryn is the Executive Director of the Georgia Coalition to End Homelessness. She and Willie are vacationing and invited me to join them for a bit.
Kathryn and I go way back. Decades! And we are close friends who understand how people come and go in the world of poverty. So we talked about the state of affairs of homelessness in Georgia, told stories about other people we know, reviewed the lack of political leadership and even talked a little religion. Kat and I have never been known for our political correctness and it is one of the things that bind us together.
We got into how so many in the business are really in it for themselves. And part of our job was to keep everyone focused on actually helping people who need help rather than distractions with other things.
“Hold a mirror in front of them and they are horrified by what they see,” it was said at one point.
Anyway, as our dinner progressed we all grew mellow and smiles came quickly and Willie took over the conversation because Kathryn and I were beginning to bore him with all of our war stories.
We left one another with hugs and promises to do it again soon when I’m in Atlanta or they are back in Savannah.
So this morning, I opened Face Book and there was this message from Kat thanking me for dinner, though they had carried me out, and reviewing how close we are as friends. Then she wrote, “Now with all that said...I see changes and rainbows coming... there is certainly that special place for folks like you …who have been given a wealth of knowledge and experiences that are real blessings in this life. It is going to take special people to teach all those fresh newbees the skills necessary on, "How to Step outside the Box and Make Real Change Happen!"
And I was struck by how right she is. Making a difference in the world means dancing outside of the box! Inside of the box, everything remains the same.
Then I went back to the concept papers so that I could be with my people. Those who dance outside of the box.
