Last week, I attended the YWCA of Walla Walla's Leadership Luncheon. The board of directors, staff and volunteers do a wonderful job putting together this annual fund-raising event. A delicious lunch in a beautiful place, coupled with a well-planned program, a touching "heartstrings" moment all help make the case each year to guests to support the YWCA - whose primary programs are domestic violence and sexual assault prevention and recovery. The keynote speaker, Maryland Lt. Governor Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, spoke about women in leadership roles and redefining what we collectively think of as leaders. The event was thoughtfully planned and graciously delivered, as it is every year.
But what struck me this year was something I am not sure could have been entirely planned. It was a connection - the kind that all nonprofit fund raisers dream of. It was a connection between people and among them. I felt as though I was not sitting in a room with nearly 500 people hearing a story of survival, but rather sitting at my mom's kitchen table. It was a real connection that, after speaking with several people also in attendance, I know others experienced too.
As a last-minute change to the program, Executive Director Anne-Marie Zell Schwerin addressed the room full of people with a rarely-heard update about a former YWCA client and her family. The week before, Anne-Marie had been approached by a graceful young woman, asking if Anne-Marie recognized her, remembered her mother or her brother. As Anne-Marie began the story, I knew immediately who she was talking about and tears welled in my eyes.
They came to the YWCA more than a decade ago, literally running for their lives. And I was there.
In 1998, I was the Assistant Director of the YWCA of Walla Walla, writing grants, designing newsletters and event materials, putting together presentations - basically, a lot of behind-the-scenes work. Growing up, my mother was a domestic violence advocate, so while I'm not a direct victim of abuse I have seen first-hand the effects of abuse on women and their children. And while working at the YWCA was a natural fit for me, it never got any easier to see new faces come through the front door.
I remember when this particular family arrived and I remember their circumstances as if it were just last week. The whole family was terrorized. They had all suffered abuse at levels that no one should even have to imagine. Death threats and unrelenting violence kept them from leaving until one day they simply "vanished" - never to return to the only home they'd ever known. The son was so badly damaged at the hands of his father that his own mother feared how, or if, he would grow up. The little boy's face suddenly appeared in my mind - I remembered his dark eyes and how hard it was for him to smile.
As Anne-Marie continued the story, I looked around the room to see if what I was feeling was just because I remember the family's faces or it was something more. And it was definitely something more. It was palpable.
"The family stayed at the YWCA longer than most - they were in hiding in a place no one would ever think to look. When they finally moved into transitional housing, they continued to stay involved with the YWCA support groups." The room was absolutely silent.
"The mother remarried a few years ago to a wonderful man. Her daughter has grown into a beautiful and kind young woman and is now enrolling in college." All eyes were on Anne-Marie.
"The son, who was at one time a severe risk of violence, is now finishing high school and has continued therapy, becoming a kind and gentle young man." No one moved - even with plates of food right in front of us, the entire room was completely motionless.
In that moment, we all - all 450 of us - knew we were making a difference by supporting a cause that meant something to us. We had a connection - to the story and to each other. Following up with Anne-Marie after the luncheon, she said she felt it too.
While my experience was also a personal one, and I may have had a more direct connection to the family in the story, I knew in that moment that I was one part of the solution for that family and for the YWCA. I loved that I was part of that group of people in that room at that moment, hearing that story. Realizing just how important it is to support causes that touch us.
What's your moment? Share it here or email kate@donatewise.com.
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