Clayton Denault currently serves as the Association Director of Philanthropy. He shares his experiences and thoughts on living through a pandemic.
Certainly, we were safe from the virus in the remote mountains and fjords of Norway. It couldn’t possibly reach us in the Arctic Circle, right? Alas, day four of our seven-day trip and news that the United States would soon quarantine anyone traveling through Europe. New protocols and procedures would surely cripple airports. It was time for a hasty retreat. A friend in Oslo shared that school was canceled and the kids were home. No chance to meet during the layover in Oslo, and as a cellist relying on now-canceled concerts, he needed to “figure things out”. The situation was beginning to look pretty grim! Made it through Oslo, whew! London next, made it through! Seattle here we come! Home at last!
Any thoughts of normalcy quickly vanished upon my return to the office. Where is everybody? I initially presumed everyone was at a meeting which would explain the relatively vacant office. Perhaps a meeting about the Scott and Sis Names Y was underway, maybe a big donation came through. I continued to catch up on email and messages and soon Charlie came around the corner and remained at a great distance (highly unusual behavior) while bidding me a “good morning” and “welcome back how was your trip” like only Charlie can. He seemed pretty distracted however and was clearly and understandably trying to assess the impact of impending school and business closures on our own operations.
I soon learned that staff were primarily working from home until further notice. Zoom meetings ensued, and in preparation for closing our Y’s, we would begin reaching out personally to members and donors. Calls that consisted primarily of a check-in. The new norm was to tune in for Governor Inslee’s update and await next steps. Brutal, bated-breath moments eventually turning into “wait and see” fatigue.
Next up! Furloughs anyone? Buildings now emptied and traffic non-existent seemingly overnight. Suddenly an eerie and beautiful silence was beginning to take hold. The anxious feeling of how and when we will emerge from this soon enough became, how I will emerge from this. I found myself out of the Y after 30 years. Initially, unable to turn it off, I continued participating in Zoom meetings with our summer program vendor. In hopes that a vaccine would be available and the spread would slow, we carried on planning even as the obvious signs were there. Cases rising, hospitals filling up, severity becoming known. Yet it was difficult to turn it off and I found myself initially unable to let go. I connected with fellow coworkers that were also separating from the Y and began pursuing other interests and careers. Inevitably, the conversation would turn to next steps, emerging social needs, and a growing movement around George Floyd’s death and race reckoning. I was invited to watch A Most Beautiful Thing as a pretext for discussion on how the Y could play a role in changing the dynamic for inner-city youth of color. The energy was palpable and as Y staffers and volunteers always show up for important social issues, we were energized with ideas on the possibilities of programs that mentor, support, and provide alternatives for youth and families in search of better outcomes, all agreeing we could get things going as soon as the pandemic ended. Certainly, there would be a vaccine soon and we could get back to, or forward to, a new normal.
In the meantime, I turned my attention to projects around the house. Invariably I would need supplies and tools that need would constitute my “outing” for the day. This involved a trip to Lowes or Home Depot, Auto Zone, or a masked meet-up with a seller from OfferUp. I innocently wore my Camp Seymour hoodie and soon learned that it was a real eye-catcher. I would invariably end up in conversation with someone who had an experience to share. Others would simply look as if they were looking at some old photograph that brought back a great memory. It took a lot to get folks talking during that period, but the Seymour hoodie worked 100% of the time. If I was in a big hurry, I learned that I better not wear it :) One particularly memorable conversation happened at the Proctor Metropolitan Market while checking out. A woman with a huge smile and great warmness noticed my Seymour hoodie while ringing up my groceries and began reminiscing about her time learning to swim in the '70s at Camp Seymour. It was a great memory for her and we laughed and shared about how important it is to have caring adults in a child’s life. That is what she loved most about the Y and why she thinks the Y is so important. It was a moment and conversation I’ll never forget.
At some point, I received a call from a former Y member that wanted to “catch up”. We discussed the state of the country, the pandemic, and the effects of isolation on all of us. Ultimately, they wanted me to learn more about non-profits that they were interested in and their options for end-of-life giving. No longer being with the Y they felt I would be the right person to explore their interests in supporting the Y as well as other organizations. It was time to do some research and dust off my CAP (Chartered Advisor in Philanthropy) books. I found myself researching non-profits both locally and nationally that met the criteria my friend was interested in. What a great exercise as it dovetailed my job search activities and helped prep me for interviews while I considered how I might continue free-lancing in this arena. I learned a great deal connecting those just starting their non-profit as well as those more established. I learned from CFPs (Certified Financial Planners) I met with that they truly don’t spend any time in this area with their clients. After all, their job is to help their clients make money, not how to give it away, and while estate attorneys can be helpful, they typically suggest/recommend directing the funds to family and a community foundation. There truly was a niche to be filled for someone who wants a plan tailored to their wishes.
Soon we were socializing again (albeit masked and distanced), and as I shared my work with others, I was directed to additional non-profits and friends who would benefit from these services. I was actually beginning to feel satisfied with my situation and the opportunities it was presenting me.
As the discussions began to turn towards Y projects, I reached out to Jessie Palmer and Charlie to learn about specific Y project opportunities. Charlie shared the many challenges being faced and ideas about how we might emerge and recover from the past two years. As our conversations continued, I would get an insight into the relative aftermath of the Y having to scuttle so much since the start of the pandemic. Staff, resources, relationships, programming, and construction costs. It had been devastating for the Y. Yet, the Y found a way to remain and stay relevant. I was excited to be invited back to help reset and rebuild. I quickly learned that much had changed since the last time I was onboarded at the Y. While I didn’t know a single name in human resources except Dorita, I found a welcoming and helpful hand wherever I turned while navigating new systems and portals. Best of all my team consisted of Jessie, Sarah, Kristy, and Steve! These are folks which whom I have worked with and hold in the highest regard.
Sarah Homan and I had lunch with a long-time donor and her husband, Cindy and John Stella. Cindy is also a former staff of the Y and has lent her considerable talents on an advisory council and the legacy committee. I had spent a copious amount of time trying to get caught up on our work throughout my absence in an effort to be prepared for questions and support our case for a gift. As it turns out, the lunch was an opportunity to connect simply as four humans that had all just lived through the same shared experience. Sarah and I were among the first to listen to their journey through the pandemic, filled with moments of heartbreak and disappointment, just like we all had. It was a good reminder that it is better to be a good listener than a subject matter expert :)
Hearing Elizabeth speak about her experience with the Y last week gives me all of the motivation needed to lean in and support an organization that supports someone with that passion and heart to do what they do.