For four years I believed that I was one of the toughest SOB’s on the planet.  I was/am a United States Marine.  My first two years I was stationed in southern Maryland on a Navy base responsible for guarding assets vital to national security.  Every single day we were reminded that today could be the day.  Today could be the day that terrorists take over our small base and try to steal an airplane.  And we ate it up.  Hook, line and sinker.

Each Marine had a 9mm pistol holstered to their leg and a Mossberg 590 shotgun on their shoulder. The Marines that guarded the fence line carried M-16’s.  We also carried pepper spray, a gas mask and had gone through countless hours of hand to hand combat training.  Should someone make the mistake of traveling to the sleepy town of Lexington Park, Maryland with the intentions of taking an airplane that they would never be able to get off the ground, we were ready to unleash hell on Earth without a moment’s hesitation.

After fulfilling my two years in Maryland, I was relocated to 29 Palms, California.  I was a machine gunner and this is where Marines went to train for war.  Temperatures would sometimes reach a smothering 130 degrees on the desert floor. We didn’t care though.  We eagerly waited to see the black flag raised on our base.  Black flag days meant that it was too hot to train outside and all work would be done at night.  For us though, that flag represented an opportunity.  We would sneak out after lunch during these days and go for a 3 mile run with our flak jackets on.  We ate nails and broken glass for breakfast.  Each morning we would dress in our military fatigues, ride out to the training area in our Humvees and fire thousands and thousands of rounds through our weapons of mass destruction, while sometimes secretly hoping that some day we would be asked to use our specific skills outside of the training area.

(the Marine standing on the right holding a M-16 with K-Bar in his mouth is me)

Every Monday morning in Maryland and in California looked the same.  Fellow Marines received consequences for starting fights in a local bar or even with each other, for damaging property and for domestic and sexual assault.  But I mean, what did they really expect?  You can’t be a life-taker and a heart-breaker just during the week, right?  Some of that is bound to spill over.

That’s what they created.  That’s what they wanted.

As I watch the local law enforcement in Baltimore enforce a nightly curfew driving Humvees with rifles in hand, I am reminded of my days in the Marine Corps.  I have some great memories.  I am incredibly proud of being a Marine.  But for a period of time, I lost my identity.  I became someone I am not.

I wonder about the men and women of the Baltimore Police Department.  When they signed up they probably envisioned days and nights of protecting and serving the communities they love most. They joined to be a peace officer, not a warrior.  I doubt anyone dreamed of learning how to drive a tank through their neighborhood or how to identify civilian targets through the scope of a sniper rifle.

What have we created and why?  Who are we at war with?  The consequences for this transition are obvious and will most definitely continue to spill into every community across the country.  Baltimore is not an anomaly.

Creed called.  I could tell by the tone in his voice that he was upset.  I asked what was wrong and he told me about what his wife had experienced the night before.  My heart began to race and I could feel the blood rushing to my face as he described how she came across a lonely six-year-old child wandering the streets, lost and alone.  He was scared and disconnected from everyone.  She couldn’t understand how anyone could let this happen and was determined to get him back home.

It was the same night that a couple of teens were found firing guns at one another in a local park.  “With children lost in the streets, why is anyone ever shocked when those same kids years later are trying to get the attention of anyone; willing to do whatever it takes to get noticed?”  I was upset now.

I met with Jennie from Reach and Rise the very next day.  I turned in my application to become a mentor and answered a few questions about my background.  She shared with me that there are nine young men waiting to be matched to a male mentor.  Not one of those young men had a father figure in their lives.  I don’t know any of them, but in a way I do.  I’ve worked with enough kids in that position long enough over the years.  They desperately longed for a connection that most of us have had, and have taken for granted, from day one.  They were robbed of that incredible gift early on and have been paying the price ever since.

Over the course of the last two days I have provided 24 thirty minute presentations to all 500 Sedgwick employees.  My objective was to get everyone well versed in Resources Unite’s mission of connecting individuals and businesses to volunteer opportunities and to reinforce our philosophy.  “We know that at the end of the day, everyone wants to get involved, make a difference and feel connected.  Sometimes though, we just don’t know where to start.  Resources Unite is that starting point.”

I then provide examples of how when our community is connected to one another, we can accomplish incredible feats.  The greatest resource we have in our community is one another.  Every time, over and over again, that truth is reinforced.  I tell the story of Jim.  Eyes start to well up when they hear of a man in our community that has gone without electricity for three years.  It’s hard to fathom.  Tears begin to stream though when I share how the community rallied for a man they will never meet.  In ONE HOUR after sharing JIm’s story months ago, Boyle Electric committed to repairing his damaged electrical line and after 48 hours, thousands of dollars worth of goods were donated by complete strangers to help get Jim back on his feet.

Jim’s doing pretty good now.  I actually visited him tonight.  As I pulled up to his place, I noticed this sign hanging on his home.  I felt such pride in what our community had done and continues to do for this man.  We have so much potential, I thought.

An anonymous donor reached out to me yesterday, asking how Jim was doing.  He shared with me how he was moved by Jim’s story months ago and how he decided to save some money each pay period to give to him.  It felt good giving Jim the $471 donation from a complete stranger.  He once again didn’t understand why someone he would never meet would be so generous.  I shared with Jim how good it made that man feel to help.

My son Isaac was with me when we met with Jim tonight.  As we pulled away he asked me if there were others in need and how they were getting help.  I told him about the woman this morning that needed a car seat for her 18 month old baby.  Heather had sent us a message asking for help for this woman.  “I’ve tried every resource.  I’m at a dead-end,” she said.  I told Isaac that I shared that message with a friend of mine while I was waiting for my protein shake and he immediately gave me $30 to help the woman out who was also fleeing an abusive relationship.

I posted the need on our Facebook page and within just a couple of hours, the team at “In the Zone Nutrition” raised the $100 needed to buy that car seat.

Then an amazing thing happened over lunch. I was sitting at Carlos O’Kelly’s talking with Kari when I received a message from Sara at “Steve’s Ace.”  It turns out that she and her sister are a car seat check at their store and they have access to FREE car seats for people in need.  Tomorrow the woman desperately trying to start her life over is going to get a free car seat and more than $100 to buy any other resources she and her baby may need.

The amount of success and happiness in our lives depends heavily on the connections we have with one another.  I’m fortunate.  I have a phone filled with contacts that I can reach out to 24/7 if I need to get immediate support. Others are not so fortunate though.  There are countless people in our community that desperately need someone to reach out and to offer a helping hand.  They have been forgotten and are roaming the streets lost.

This support though doesn’t always have to come in the form of car seats or cash.  Jim would tell you that he would give back every nickel of the donation he received tonight for people to just come out and sit in his yard with him and talk.  It’s the connection he misses most.

In the last couple weeks I’ve presented to six different Major League Baseball teams during their spring training, from the New York Yankees to the Chicago Cubs. Unless you’ve been living under a rock over the past year, you’ve heard about a number of professional athletes who have physically assaulted the people they claim to love the most. The conversation that I’ve been facilitating with professional athletes from NASCAR to MLB to the WWE is leadership based with the objective of compelling the attendees to challenge the varying forms of abuse that exist in our culture and to realize the incredible influence they have over so many.

After defining leadership, we talk about what it means to be a bystander. Too often, when in the position of the bystander, we opt to take a very passive role for a variety of reasons. “It’s not my business,” some will say. Others talk about how they are afraid to get involved. “What will they think of me if I say or do something that no one else will?” Invariably, though, it comes down to people believing that someone else will do something. This cultural phenomenon is known as the “bystander effect.” In other words, extensive research shows that the probability of help is inversely related to the number of bystanders. The more bystanders present, the less likely it is that any one of them will get involved.

Before we can get into specific strategies of how these athletes of significant status can get involved and make a difference, though, we make sure we’re on the same page about men’s violence against women in our country. We talk about why domestic and sexual violence is serious. Men will share examples from their childhood when they watched as their fathers abused their mothers. Other men share how they are bombarded with examples of violence in the media. It’s at this point that I offer the first and only statistic in this conversation.

A number of years ago a study was conducted in the United States that had nothing to do with domestic violence. The objective of this research was to determine why people go to the emergency room. What they found was quite striking. The number one reason why women and girls ages 15 to 44 are admitted to the emergency room is because of domestic violence they experience from the men in their lives (skull fractures, broken bones, lacerations, burns, etc.).

You can feel the air get sucked out of the room when I share the results from that study. I let the room remain silent for a few extra moments before I ask the men how they feel about this. Some report being sad. I can see the anger in others’ eyes as they imagine a woman or girl in their life that may someday be impacted by this reality.

“Given the fact that everyone in the room agrees that men’s violence against women is serious and that you now know the severity of this major public health issue, why do you suppose so many men remain silent in the face of this ugly truth? Why do we find it so impossibly difficult to challenge other men’s degrading and abusive behavior towards women?”

The answer to that question is why I am sitting here outside my hotel between training sessions, writing this post. I’ll admit that it is a surreal experience when first walking into a room with people who get paid millions of dollars to do their job and who are idolized by even more people around the globe. The men in the room have a certain amount of status and privilege that is only bestowed on a select few. They are undoubtedly special.

But at the end of the session, when the men are trying to answer why so many remain silent, it occurs to me how they are just like the rest of us. They struggle with accepting the responsibilities they have as leaders much as we would. The difficulties in challenging our peers is the same as for someone who we watch during the big game on Sunday afternoon; the same as it is for the guy sitting next to us in church that same morning. Throughout each and every session the men in the room talk about how they care about the thoughts and opinions of others. More specifically though, their fans. Remember, these guys are human too.

I recognize that this is probably the first and last time that I may ever be in front of this group of people talking about this issue. I’m only one voice for a mere 90 minutes in their lives. I have to wonder though how much more effective this conversation would be if each of us as fans were more of an active bystander in the lives of these men, letting them know how we feel about men’s violence against women and the expectations we have for them as leaders.

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I sat at home this past weekend scrolling through Facebook, watching the anger of many turn into hate. Countless people attacked a local organization and the individuals entrusted to carry out their mission. It was evident that many were not interested in having a conversation. For reasons probably only known to themselves, their only interest was to hurt others.

It was hard to watch. I wanted to jump in and tell people to stop. I wanted to remind some that what they were writing was hurting people. I’ve been in those shoes before. I’ve had that kind of hate dumped in my lap too many times. I would not wish those sleepless nights and anxiety on anyone. Ever.

Come to think of it, my first experience with this kind of hate happened exactly four years ago to today’s date. I had created a tv commercial and some fellas at an organization called “A Voice for Men” got a hold of it and were not happy, to say the least. Take a look: Josh Jasper’s hate campaign and what to do about it

You see, their mission is to “promote an end to chivalry in any form or fashion and to push for an end to rape hysteria, domestic violence hysteria and false allegations. Yeah, these guys are some VERY angry dudes. I remember early on thinking that I could reason with them. Surely they would understand my perspective once I gave them all the facts. No deal. Providing them with the information they requested only enraged them more. They wanted a fight.

I never did fully understand the venom that these men spewed toward me from across the planet, but I did learn that I was not going to change their opinion of me or my work. Sadly, there are some people out there that want nothing more than to hurt others and bring them down. It is so easy to get angry and defensive when on the receiving end of this type of vitriol.

I was relieved to see how the local organization handled this recent firestorm. They shared their side of the story in a professional and thorough manner and never got defensive. They didn’t fall for the bait.

Don’t get me wrong, people have the right to voice their concerns and should do so whenever they feel so inclined. What needs to stay out of the conversation though is the other stuff; the stuff that has nothing to do with what is presented and everything to do with their misplaced feelings of hurt and anger. Filling our hearts with compassion, tenderness and sympathy for others will help ensure the best and most effective way to be heard.

We had just gotten out of church this morning and I was waiting for everyone to get buckled in when I got the message. It was from Michelle from Jefferson Middle School. She was one of the first persons to reach out to me when we shared the story about DeMarkel, the 13-year-old boy who had been recently diagnosed with cancer and lost his leg. “If you could let me know what specifically they need or would like, we can make this happen,” she confidently wrote.

DeMarkel was doing everything in his power to get discharged from the University of Iowa Children’s Hospital, but he needed help from our community. In just a few short days, volunteers were assembled to build an accessible wheelchair ramp for a young man they would never meet. Gifts for the family began to pour in.

Michelle’s message to me today was an update as to what the team at Jefferson was able to do for DeMarkel and his mom. They raised nearly $700 and showered the family with gifts on the Friday before Christmas. Michelle went on to tell me that on Christmas morning DeMarkel began to struggle with his breathing and had to be taken to Iowa City. The 13-year-old that aspired to be a mechanic passed away a day later.

My heart sank. I remembered the hug that his mom gave me after we finished the ramp. It was one of those kind of hugs that you never forget. She held me tight and said thank you in a way that is rarely expressed with such sincerity. She couldn’t understand why people she didn’t know would do so much for a single black woman and her son living downtown on Jackson Street.

Sitting here now I find myself rereading the last sentence of Michelle’s message. “Our Jefferson family is grieving, but we are so fortunate that we had the opportunity to provide DeMarkel and his mom the gift of knowing how much the Jefferson family cared about them.”

The gift that Michelle wrote about is exactly the reason why DeMarkel’s mom held me so tight in her kitchen that afternoon. Over and over again she said it when I was on the phone with her while they were still in Iowa City. “I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. Why would so many people care?” Our community was making a lasting impact on that family well before the first nail was hammered or the first Christmas gift was delivered. She will never forget what so many have done for her family.

When we finished the ramp, Shawn asked me to help him carry a couple of gifts for DeMarkel into the house. They were beautifully wrapped and ridiculously heavy. Shawn got wind of the fact that DeMarkel wanted to be a mechanic when he grew up and went out and purchased an entire tool set for him. I can only imagine the excitement he must have felt opening up those gifts on Christmas morning.

Imagine though how he and his mom must have felt that Christmas morning surrounded by gifts from complete strangers. They undoubtedly felt the outpouring of love from our entire community. DeMarkel felt like someone believed in him. Someone out there wanted to see him succeed and an entire community was hell-bent on making sure that happened.

There is no greater gift.

At the end of the day we all want to get involved and make a difference. Sometimes though we over think it. It’s not about curing a life threatening disease or helping someone off the ledge. To make the greatest impact we must simply be present for one another and be ready to step up to do what we can when needed. Each of us have extraordinary gifts to share with one another. Identify what they are and share them with the world. Because believe me, if you do, you will do more than make a difference.

You will change the world.

I’ve got 3 or 4 different blog posts rattling around in my head. It’s been hard for me to organize my thoughts with everything that’s been going on with Resources Unite and with everything in Ferguson, and now New York City. The more I learn, the more I don’t understand. Everyday it seems like I’m reading another article that reinforces that reality that black lives do not matter or that I’m meeting someone who has fallen through the cracks and is in a state of complete despair.

It’s hard for me to comprehend these realities.

But I’m trying. I’m really trying to empathize with what it must be like to be black in America. Would I too feel the hurt and rage that so many others feel right now? And if so, why would I feel that way? What brought me to the point in which I no longer trust or feel compelled to riot and loot?

I also imagine reaching out to Resources Unite requesting basic needs and feeling so completely hopeless. Call after call and Facebook message after Facebook message, one thing is abundantly clear:

There a lot of people in our community that are not getting the help they need and are feeling completely alone, while being judged by so many.

In both scenarios I feel disconnected. I don’t feel part of my community. It’s obvious that the majority doesn’t care. If they only would take a moment to see life through my eyes. I see the endless online comments that judge people like me. You don’t want me here. I get it. There’s so much hate.

Take a moment though. Please. Imagine what it must be like for people who are not like you. What you will find is that the people we all find so easy to judge and condemn are just like you and me.

We are no different. We are the same.

I live south of Dubuque off of Twelve Mile Road. The road earned that name due to being located exactly 12 miles south of downtown Dubuque and 12 miles north of Cascade. It’s also the exact distance between two very different realities.

I woke up this morning to find my Facebook news feed erupting about a shooting that took place in downtown Dubuque. Police were once again at a bar called Mad Hatter located on Central Avenue. I had no idea anything had taken place, but again, I live 12 miles from this part of town. I began to wonder what it’s like to live there and how it’s so very different from here.

There’s only one thing that causes members of our family to rush toward the living room window. It starts with a rumbling in the distance. “Hurry up, get over here! Look what’s coming!,” Isaac often exclaims.

It’s all about colors here in Bernard. Before you get to the window, you can assume the disturbance is being created by one of two colors. Red or green. We’re more favorable to green in our house. Grandpa retired from John Deere and says he doesn’t even see other colors. “It’s green or its junk,” he says. Isaac likes both. Tensions flare when the big red Case tractors roll down the road. I can hear some of the neighbors now. “They’re not from here! Probably from some big city. Definitely not from here.”

I wonder about the seven-year old boy who rushes toward the living room window when he hears a disturbance near his home on Central Avenue. What is he expecting to see? What has he already seen? That scares me. It’s the roar of the tractor’s engine that initially warns Isaac of the action that is taking place outside here. It’s gunfire that alerts the boy on Central Avenue that something is happening and that there is more to come.

(photo taken by KCRG)

The questions start swirling in my head about the little boy from downtown Dubuque.

Who does he assume is responsible for the commotion?
Is he making assumptions based on color as well?
How often has he heard this before?
And at what point does he no longer rush to the window because it has become the norm?

He’s seven years old. He’s paying attention and he’s learning.

The only gunfire Isaac hears is from the distant farmer trying to rid his barn of pesky pigeons. He wouldn’t understand why neighbors would be shooting each other. But somehow we can make sense of it all a mere 12 miles from our home. We can make assumptions as to why the shootings are taking place, who is involved and where they are from. Because as my news feed on Facebook reinforces, “they’re definitely not from here.”

Twelve miles. It might as well be a million.

We’re excited to be partnering with Allied Pawn to offer the community the “Meet Seth Gold” event where RU is sponsoring a Volunteer Fair! This event will allow local nonprofit organizations to showcase their volunteer opportunities to everyone in our community looking to get involved with an organization and make a lasting impact.

If you’re part of an organization and are interested in learning how you can be a part of the Volunteer Fair, simply follow these steps:

1. Contact Kari to reserve a space for your organization. You can e-mail her at [email protected] or call her at (563) 580-9585. There is no cost for the space.
2. Each organization at the event will have a vote bucket. Each individual who attends the event will receive a ticket that he/she can use to vote for their favorite organization by placing a ticket in their bucket. The organizations with the most tickets will win the 1st, 2nd and 3rd place prizes.
3. You are encouraged to advertise the even via social media, email, phone, etc. Get as many people to the even as possible to increase your chances of winning.
4. Be creative! There will be many people in attendance that have not heard of your organization and may want to become a volunteer or vote for you. Show them what you’re all about!
5. Set up begins at 10:30 AM. There will be a tent in case of bad weather. Bring your own table, chairs, etc.

Feel free to download and share the Seth Gold NonProfit Flyer

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It’s been nearly a year since grandma fell out of her bed in the middle of the night and broke her arm. At 89 years old, that one injury changed her life forever. After her immediate stay in the hospital, she transitioned to the Dubuque Nursing & Rehab Center and stayed there for a few months. Although her arm grew stronger, she struggled in other areas and it was decided that it be best that she no longer live alone. Grandma now lives across the river with my uncle and aunt in the land of beer and cheese.

I met with Nancy from Home Instead Senior Care today. She asked if we could get together to talk about how Resources Unite could help them and the Red Cross work together on serving senior citizens in our community. I never heard of Home Instead Senior Care before. Nancy talked about the work they do and how they help seniors stay in their home. I couldn’t help but think of grandma. Where were they when my grandma needed them before the fall? Why didn’t we know about all of the great care they provide to people struggling with Alzheimer’s and Dementia?

The truth is, they’ve been here for 20 years.

This is why we originally started Resources Unite! We knew people were struggling with reaching the more than 500 service providers in our community. There wasn’t a centralized location online to learn of all the help out there. To date, there are 21 different services for senior citizens in our directory. We know there are probably another 21 missing. (Home Instead was added today)

But the real reason for today’s meeting was to talk about collaboration. Nancy was asking for our help with reaching the Grandma Lou’s of our community, but what she desperately needed was a better, more effective way to communicate with other like minded providers. She knows they can’t do everything for everybody at Home Instead. But she also knows that if organizations were communicating more and sharing resources, people would be experiencing a better way of life. At one point in our meeting, Nancy leaned toward me with excitement in her eyes and imagined aloud a different reality. Her speech raced as she hoped for one day having the opportunity to share the needs of the people she serves in our community with other senior citizen providers. And to maybe…just maybe then create meaningful partnerships with community members and businesses for the purpose of supporting seniors when the traditional “providers” can do no more.

I left that meeting feeling buzzed. Everything was moving a little slower and some things became clearer than ever before about our work. I was seeing the potential we have as a community unfold before my eyes.

We need to think differently. The days of operating in silos are gone. It doesn’t work. We have to let go of the fear that can consume us at times and trust one another. We owe it to ourselves, the people we serve and to the community that we want to realize.

Resources Unite is more than the name of our organization. It’s a call to action.

Every Sunday we entered into church through the west side door. I always liked getting there early so I could make my way to the top of the stairs and watch as the dozen or so select women and men marched up to the choir loft. When mom stopped by the church on the weekends to help clean I would sometimes wander up there and be in awe of the enormous organ and the fantastic view. Everyone revered the choir. Over the years though, the choir got smaller and they eventually started singing from the front of the church. They had lost their impact.

It’s been an interesting month. We’ve learned a lot about ourselves. An unarmed black man was shot and killed by a police officer in Ferguson Missouri. And most recently, Ray Rice from the Baltimore Ravens physically assaulted his fiancée in an elevator; a brutal assault that was caught on camera for the whole world to witness.

The amount of hate that has surfaced from these tragedies is noteworthy and should serve as a teachable moment for all of us paying attention. Despite numerous eye-witness accounts of what took place when Michael Brown was killed and endless discussions on how the police officer did not use appropriate escalation of force, there are droves of people who continue to believe that Michael deserved to be shot and killed. You need but look on any online forum to find thousands of people weighing in on this crime, defending the shooting, using racially charged slurs and stereotypes. Nearly every conversation gets deleted because it gets out of control with hateful rants.

The commissioner of the National Football League knew Ray Rice knocked his fiancée unconscious. The team and his fellow players knew. For this hateful act, Ray was suspended for two games. It was only until the infamous video surfaced that he received a penalty more deserving of the crime. Listen to what is being talked about though. The focus is on her. People are mystified as to why a woman would support a man after being physically assaulted. “She hit him first,” they wildly exclaim. Remember the tweet sent out right after the assault by the Baltimore Ravens? “Janay Rice says she deeply regrets the role that she played the night of the incident.” Really? What role did she actually play in this heinous assault other than being a woman?

Coming from the guy that’s been in the equal rights work for nearly 15 years, don’t kid yourself for one second that we are anywhere near eliminating hate against black people and women in our communities. Michael Brown’s death and Ray Rice’s assault on his fiancée make me seriously question our efforts. We have not done enough of the real heavy lifting.

I ask you to think about the conversations you’ve had about these incidents. Who were you talking to? If you’re like me, you’ve been preaching to the choir. Maybe you’ve had a couple of people challenge your opinions, but for the most part, everyone in the room agrees with you. Those guys in the online forums that have been spewing hate should not be ignored. We should be challenging the racist and sexist jokes that are shared daily. Some will never change, but that only applies for a select few. Many more are actually wrestling with the hate that fills them.

If we want to eliminate the hate in the world, (and that’s a big “if”) we need to be actively recruiting more choir members. Let’s fill the loft and move downstairs not because we are small and unheard, but because the entire church is singing the same tune.

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I have an associate degree in criminal justice, a bachelor’s degree in criminology, a master’s degree in social work and a phd in faking the funk. I so often present as a very confident and outgoing person when the reality couldn’t be further from the truth. The truth is I often get quite anxious in social settings and default to hanging out in the periphery whenever possible.

I hate feeling that way. I absolutely love feeling connected to others and feel like I am my best self when doing so. I just need help getting there; needing permission to let my guard down and be vulnerable.

Lately I’ve felt different though. Isaac and I were at the Holy Cross parade and ran into quite a few people who I haven’t seen in years. Usually when that happens I pretend to be blind and completely oblivious of my surroundings in hopes of avoiding of what I imagine would be an awkward interaction. That wasn’t the case this time though. I initiated contact. We immediately connected and there was no discomfort. It felt natural.

The same thing happened today in every one of my meetings. I didn’t need to warm up. I was already there, ready to give of myself in a very genuine way. I ended one meeting with giving someone a hug…and this guy is NOT a hugger! It felt so good. I was being my true self and so was everyone else around me.

Our community has been shaken to the core. Everyone has been impacted. No one has gone unscathed. We’ve been reminded of how fragile and precious life actually is in the most unforgiving and unimaginable way. And how in a moment, it can all be gone.

I see the countless pictures on Facebook of people from all over the state already wearing the Bobcat Strong shirts. Nearly 10,000 have already been printed. Most couldn’t tell you where Western Dubuque is even located. They don’t care. We’ve been united in this tragedy. Our pain and suffering has brought us closer together.

Donations are pouring into local businesses, scholarships are being created, ribbons are being worn, and every man, woman and child in our community is ready and willing to do anything to ease the pain felt by so many. Nothing else matters.

We’ve been reminded of how great we can be and how we fill our lives with so many distractions and excuses that prevent us from being our best self. If we do anything moving forward, let’s commit to never forgetting.

Never shall we forget the young men that lost their lives. Nor shall we forget the countless others that have forever been changed by that one fateful afternoon. Let us also never forget how we are right now. Remember our willingness to give of ourselves in the most genuine and meaningful way.

They deserve at least that.

We were standing in the last pew in church today. Being six and a half feet tall and having two kids under the age of seven automatically qualifies me and my family for seating in the rear. I stood there this morning with a heavy heart, thinking about the four young men that died yesterday in Epworth. And judging by the amount of people around me, I wasn’t alone. The church was packed. Families were standing along the back wall and were crammed into the small space upstairs.

A retired priest was called 30 minutes before the mass to pinch hit. I can only imagine what the last 24 hours must have looked like for Father Schueller. It made sense that he needed help this morning. I think we were all there looking for some help; seeking guidance in this very difficult time. We were told to pray and to be present. I stood there struggling with those instructions. Of course I’m going to pray, I thought. But that didn’t feel like it was enough.

I caught myself looking around for a bit. I wondered what others were thinking and how they felt about what had happened. How were they coping with this tragedy? Then I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. People were standing really close to each other. At first I assumed it was because we had more people in attendance, but after looking around some more, I was wrong. It was if people were holding onto each other. Just as I was making sense of what was going on, we were about ready to give each other the sign of peace. This is always the moment that I quickly scan my surroundings and determine where I’m going to offer my first handshake. It’s a good way to eliminate the possibility of a false start handshake or even worse, offering to shake someone’s hand and have it get denied. I like to try to make a little eye contact with the first person to make sure we are a go and then spread the love from there.

Before I could complete my assessment, the guy standing to my right leaned into me and gave me one of those handshakes that include the other arm holding my elbow. He locked eyes with me and said “peace be with you” in a way that made me believe he really meant it. I shook Isaac’s hand, gave Lila a high-five and then looked up to find a woman in the pew in front of me leaning toward me for a hug. She patted my back while we embraced. During the average sign of peace ceremony, I probably average five handshakes. This morning I hit a PR of 11. (counting the high-five)

People were standing on top of each other not because we had exceeded the fire code, but because we were yearning for connection and support from one another. And it didn’t matter who it came from. At that moment, it made no difference if the guy in the pew next to me was white, black or yellow. He could have been a Bobcat, Blazer or a Mustang. It didn’t matter. He could have been the farmer that just got done doing chores or the retired teacher. None of that was noticed.

Father’s opening remarks came back to me. “Pray and be present.” After 60 years of delivering sermons, it was evident he knew a thing or two about navigating times like these. We need to pray for the families and not just be present for them, but for each other as well. They need our entire community right now.

Together. United.

What is Resources Unite?

I’m going to try to explain it without worrying about how I write it. I need to share this with you from my heart, completely unfiltered and edited.

Resources Unite is about connections. It’s been three years since the Dubuque School District called my partner, Jon Filitti and asked if we could help with a problem they were struggling with. The district had more than 10,000 students. And on what felt like a daily basis, their guidance counselors struggled with connecting their student body to resources in the community. “Where do I send a kid that needs counseling?” “I’m working with a child in which the gas was turned off in his home last night. Who do I call?” “We’ve got so many kids that need school supplies. Who should I call?” Questions like this poured in…Every. Single. Day.

This is really what started Resources Unite. We met with the school district and were eventually hired to create an online resource directory that the community could access to refer people to community services. Our first tool to connect the community had been created.

Jon had been doing mental health counseling for years in the Dubuque area and I had been working in social services my entire career from Los Angeles to Dubuque. Our individual career paths brought us to one absolute certainty. In order for Jon’s clients to realize their greatest potential or for any of the nonprofit organizations I worked for to realize success, they all depended greatly on the connection they had with other people and whether or not they felt connected or engaged in their community.

Resources Unite set out to create those needed connections. Our focus became volunteerism. Jon created a website (www.resourcesunite.com) and we began showcasing the volunteer opportunities in our community much like any volunteer center that you would find throughout the country. It took us about a week to figure out though that simply listing opportunities for people was merely step one. It was too passive. We knew people wanted to get involved and make a difference, but too often we don’t know where to start. Listing countless options was only going to confuse and overwhelm someone. We asked ourselves why people get involved in first place. What makes that initial connection?

Inspiration. I think back on any time I ever volunteered and more often than not, I did it because someone or something inspired me to action. If Resources Unite was going to successfully connect community members to volunteer opportunities, we knew inspiration needed to be a main ingredient to make it happen. So we went back to the nonprofits and started digging deeper into their missions. We wanted to make sure we were effectively telling their story in a way that would connect people to their important missions.

It’s hard for organizations to tell their story or relay their mission in a way that is the most engaging when every waking hour and resource is spent on the services being delivered. And at the same time, volunteers want to feel like what they are contributing is meaningful and that they play a significant role within the organization they support. They want more than stuffing envelopes and painting fences. Volunteers want to feel connected to the people they are serving!

So to recap, we learned a few things:

1. People want to make a difference and feel connected to one another and their community.

2. Organizations struggle with establishing that connection but are in dire need of additional support.

3. Volunteers want a more meaningful role. They want to tap into their respective talents and strengths.

These were important lessons for us to really soak in and appreciate as a business. If we were going to effectively connect people to volunteer opportunities and resources, a much more active strategy must take place than a static list of opportunities.

To begin, we needed to focus much of our energy on supporting organizations, specifically around how to tell their story in a way that is meaningful and inspiring. Additionally, these stories must be seen and heard. Nonprofits cannot compete in the traditional sense of marketing. They don’t have the money and are too often chastised when they do spend money to advertise their work.

Nonprofits need their own platform to tell their story to help level the playing field and get noticed. This is why the Resources Unite magazine was created. The magazine was not about Resources Unite. The focus was on the nonprofits and individuals in our community that are making a difference. The objective was to raise awareness of organizations and to inspire community members to get involved with very specific opportunities. And it worked. Beautifully.

Connecting people to volunteer opportunities must be a two-way street. We knew that our team needed to spend a significant amount of time meeting with prospective volunteers. A team member takes the time to really get to know that person and what they want to do to make a difference. A volunteer profile is created and we then are able to use that information to effectively link that person to an organization that ideally results in a meaningful experience for both the volunteer and the nonprofit.

We had the online tools created and were effectively creating connections, but it was clear that we were missing the biggest piece of the puzzle. In order for us to be truly effective in strengthening our community by creating connections and to showcase the work that nonprofits do in our community, we needed a place to call home.

Enter Inspire Café. I believe it was fate that brought the Resources Unite team together with Sara Post and Scott and Julia Theisen to realize this dream.

Inspire Cafe will be the volunteer center of our community and so much more. Quite honestly, it will be like something you have never seen before. I guarantee it. Nonprofits will have a place to showcase their work. Community members will know that this is the place to learn about how to get involved. But what really will be happening inside of Inspire Café is so much bigger than all of that. This will be the place for people to connect and establish personal and professional relationships. There’s not a man, woman or child that has never felt alone or disconnected at one point in their life. Inspire Café will be the place for that person to go and feel connected once again.

It’s going to be a safe place where people will no longer feel the need to hide behind their phones, pretend to be busy or avoid eye contact. Everyone will be welcome and no one will be turned away. People will come to work there knowing that it is the creative center of our community. You will want to share your ideas openly and you will find that support for your dreams will be met with open arms.

Community engagement will soar. And why? It won’t be because we’ve done a good job showcasing volunteer opportunities or because we’ve inspired you to take action. No, that will just be a piece of it. You will get engaged because you will feel a sense of connection to your fellow community member that you may have never felt before. You won’t need to be asked. You will offer.

And here’s the real beauty of it all: once you start, you won’t want to stop. Just ask Kevin Greene and so many other volunteers in our community. Ask Kevin why he gives so much.

He’ll tell you that he loves giving back and helping others, but he’ll talk more about how it makes him feel working with other people, creating friendships and bonds that will last a lifetime.

Because in the very end, isn’t that what life is all about? Doesn’t it all come down to just two very simple things?

1. We want to know we made a difference.

2. We want a life filled with meaningful relationships.

The final lesson we’ve learned as an organization is that the greatest resource in our community is not a specific business or organization. The greatest resource is the individual community member. We’re seeing it already. From the support of individuals, problems that seemed liked mountains to some, have been overcome by the support of people like you and me. Families have been fed, electricity has been turned back on, and ramps have been built.

If we want a strong community, we’ve got to make every effort to make every person feel like they have something to bring to the table. Everyone has value. Now imagine if each person in our community was connected…or united. Nothing would stand in our way. Social issues that we see now as impossible to overcome would no longer exist.

I’m wiping away the tears from my eyes now.

This is Resources Unite.

As a leader within your non-profit organization, a big part of your job is to move people to act. I would argue that it is your most important job.

In one way or the other, you are always trying to engage individuals, groups and businesses. Maybe this week your focus is on your upcoming fundraiser. Next week could be the volunteers you need. And the week after that you are recruiting new board members.

Gone are the days that you engage and inspire people through Powerpoint slides, graphs, and glossy brochures. By and large, these methods do not work. Truth be told, they never really did. We got lazy. No, if we truly want to engage people, we need to look backward for the most effective strategy when it comes to inspiring the masses.

We need to be masters of storytelling. Stories are what gets inside of us and makes a lasting impression. Skewed statistics are forgotten almost immediately. A recent article in Forbes titled “How To Tell A Good Story,” referenced a Stanford research study that showed statistics alone have a retention rate of 5-10%, but when coupled with anecdotes, the retention rate rises to 65-70%.

Listening to you tell the story of the woman or child that was forever changed because of your work stays with people forever. Looking into your eyes as you share this personal story creates an instant connection. The passion you have grabs a hold of your audience and refuses to let go.

With so many organizations competing for the same donors, volunteers, and board members, a good story will set you apart from the rest. If you don’t believe me, pay attention to how others are effectively engaging you. What drew you in?

For me, it’s the person or organization that allowed themselves to be vulnerable. They were genuine, spoke from the heart, and didn’t pretend to have all the answers. The passion they had for their work was evident and they weren’t shy about showing it to the world. They painted a vivid picture of their work.

The stories you tell must permeate everything you do. You simply can’t afford to only tell your organization’s story in person. Your stories must be shared by others and most definitely needs to be found in your marketing. Facebook is a good example of this. Do me a favor. Write a status update 2-3 sentences long. No pictures. No video. Write about your mission or even a specific service you provide. Now wait two or three hours and tell a story about your mission or of a service you provide. Include a photo or a video. Write 2-3 sentences about how your agency made a significant difference in someone’s life. Share the person’s feeling. Maybe even mention how that experience made you feel.

Compare the two posts later on how many people viewed it, liked it, and maybe if you’re lucky, shared it.

There is no comparison. It won’t even be close. People will swarm to the second post. We want to hear your story and get inspired. And when you do that, you’ve got us.

When traveling to a new destination, I like doing some reconnaissance of the area to get a feel for the community. Kevin was at the wheel and I was riding shotgun with my iPhone in hand, reading up on all things Mississippi. I had never really spent any significant time in “The Magnolia State” and was eager to learn something new. There was a reason we were bringing the Bird Chevrolet truck filled with clothes and household items to Morton, Mississippi. We knew people were in need. But we had no idea until we saw it for our own eyes.

I’ve traveled interstate 55 a hundred times to Springfield, Illinois for various meetings. For the most part, everything looks like back home until you get south of St. Louis. The corn fields start to disappear and other crops begin to appear. The sun feels stronger and the air is so much heavier. Once we made the bend around Memphis and crossed the state line into Mississippi, the change in scenery was jarring.

My recon informed me that Mississippi was the poorest state in the country. High school graduation rates were just over 60% and the average yearly income for someone in Morton is less than $16,000. The population has changed dramatically in just the past few years. A significant increase of immigrants from Central America have been relocating to the community, taking jobs at the COUNTLES food processing plants. (Tyson, Koch Foods, Williamson Poultry, to name just a few we noticed)

I’ve never seen so many mobile homes. The ground was barren. Yards became parking spaces for cars. More often than not, 10-15 people occupied one home.

You got the feeling that it wasn’t just the people who were struggling. It felt like everything in the state was feeling the weight of the poverty all around them. I wondered how anyone could keep their head up. It reminded me of when I lived and worked in East Los Angeles. The community was impoverished and the kids we were serving knew only what they saw in front of them. And what they saw was a struggle that most people can’t imagine. I remember always thinking about how amazing it would be for these young men and women to escape their reality for just a weekend and visit Farley, Iowa. I wanted them to see and know that life isn’t this hard everywhere….I so badly wanted to bring them home.

Our community had been so very generous to the residents of Morton, Mississippi. Nearly a hundred garbage bags were filled with clothes. Boxes were filled with books and household items. An impact was sure to be made. No question.

It wasn’t enough though. Not nearly. How were free clothes and household knickknacks going to help these people, I wondered. I asked our contact person this very question. To be clear, I wasn’t questioning the effort. The donations were needed. We could have driven a semi full of clothes into Morton and not properly met the need.

The employees and volunteers of the Excel Community Center knew this too. This is why they spend every waking hour not on collecting clothes, but on education and community building. They know how critical it is for each child to receive a quality education and how armed with a high school diploma, they can rise above their surroundings and realize success and independence.

I think they also need to know they are not alone in their struggle and that people are out there that support them; people they don’t even know or may never see again. Don’t we all want that for ourselves?

I know I do.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=761184520600505&set=vb.118469441538686&type=2&theater

This video was on our Facebook page (Resources Unite) for about an hour last week before something really incredible happened. The Red Cross, DHS, and my good friend Anderson had reached out to me telling the same story. This family needed help.

After the video got a handful of likes and a couple of comments, Dana Fessler sent me a private message. She wanted to make a donation to this family that would take care of the entire need. She shared that she had been in a similar situation in the past. Her house had flooded and community members stepped up and helped her through a very difficult time in her life. Dana wanted to return the favor.

I had the opportunity to meet with Dana last night in person. I wanted to thank her. She had already met with the family and gave them her donation. I was hoping to record a minute or two of Dana on my camera talking about why she did such an amazingly generous deed. She declined. She didn’t think it was necessary. “I like to help when I can. Sometimes I can’t, but when I can, I do.”

Our Facebook page has a relatively small fan base. We are just over 1,400. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t imagine our Facebook page being followed up every person in our community. Can you imagine that? Imagine 60,000 people paying attention. Dana changed the lives of an entire family in less than an hour. Imagine what we could accomplish with everyone connected.

Needs would be met in seconds. People like Dana would feel proud knowing that they made a difference; knowing that her one deed changed the course of someone’s life. When first meeting with Racquel she shared, “We just need help right now. Please help us get back on our feet so we can help someone else.”

Please ask your friends to like Resources Unite’s page right now. I believe we can do something amazing together. United.

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I woke up this morning to the alarm of my iPhone next to my head. (never too far to get a quick Facebook scroll in) I was a little chilled. The ceiling fan was on high and I could tell the central air must have been running all night. I limped into the bathroom with a full stomach from the night before at the Olive Garden. I overdid it. Again. A few minutes later I was at the kitchen table, eating my Special K, reading an article on ESPN.com on my phone about Lebron James’ next big decision. I remember being irritated that we were out of orange juice.

I had an early morning meeting at Jitterz and had my favorite ice blended mocha. I thought about adding a muffin, but declined. I remembered the lunch meeting I had scheduled to present about what we do at Resources Unite. Lunches like that usually have a pretty good spread. I could wait. My last meeting ended before my presentation and I dashed out to the van hoping I dodged a parking ticket. Win! I probably got away with 30 minutes of free parking. The day was looking up!

The conference room table on the third floor of the Historic Federal Building was full of food. They had catered sandwiches from Arby’s and 3 different bags of Sun Chips with a fruit platter from Hy-Vee for the lunch meeting. I got in line and filled my plate. I didn’t know anyone in the room so I sat down, started to eat, and listened.

I thought I was presenting to the housing department. It turned out that it was them and their housing advisory council. (people who lived in housing)

Tonya sat to my right. She shared that she’s been taking classes at NICC in Peosta but no longer has transportation to get to classes. She’s in the child development program. She talked about her struggle with trying to get ahead but too often falling farther behind. “There’s no busses that run to Peosta. What am I supposed to do, take a cab??” She wanted an answer from me. I didn’t have it. Someone suggested that she ask a friend or family member. “I’ve been living in Dubuque for 4 or 5 years and all I know is my neighbor and a few people from church.” She didn’t have their phone numbers and it didn’t matter because sometimes her phone was shut off anyway due to not being able to pay the bill.

Tracie was directly across from me and was talking about not being able to get a good job that covered the bills and how so many jobs that she can get want her to work 3rd shift or on Sundays. Her car broke down and no busses run at that time. “I have gone to every single place in town to get help. I am so sick and tired of telling my story over and over again, being turned down, and judged. I am working full-time. I’m doing my best, Josh. I really am.”

I thought about meeting Kim yesterday. She was sitting next to her car in the shade. They just turned her electricity off because she couldn’t pay the bills and was praying that she could find the gas money to get back home to Texas. It was cooler sitting outside than it was in her stuffy apartment. She could tolerate the gnats better than me. She sobbed as we gave her the gas card donated by the community. “I didn’t think anybody cared. I just wanted to give up.”

They were beating me over the head with the reminder of my privileged lifestyle. It was hard to hear much more. I could feel my iPhone vibrating in my pocket. It was probably one of my 1,200 friends on Facebook sending me a request to play Candy Crush. I wanted to disappear.

It’s so easy to forget. We don’t even think about them. Most times they don’t even exist. But they do. And the moment that Kim’s story was shared yesterday, the community responded with urgency to help.

I think we responded to help her and ourselves.

These stories need to be told; told for you, me, Tonya, Tracie, and Kim. This is how we grow as individuals and as a community.

Moses called me this morning from Nairobi, Africa. He’s working tirelessly to support women and girls in his community. His primary focus right now is to ensure all women have access to sanitary napkins. He’ll take the monetary donations and even the donated napkins, but his real interest has to do with sustainability. He wants help securing 6 sewing machines so they can produce the sanitary napkins in the community and create employment. You know the life lesson:

“Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and feed him for a lifetime.”

He’s calling me because he needs 6 sewing machines? We can do that. Can’t we? I told him that we can help without giving any thought of how it will actually be done. I just believe it. There’s 60,000 people in our community and from my experience, most of those individuals want to help others and get involved. It’s simply about connecting the need with the right person and finding out how they can contribute in their own unique way.

Resources Unite strengthens communities by creating connections. We help connect people to opportunities and resources that lead to a happier and more engaged way of life. That’s our mission statement, but what does that really mean?

I’ve worked in organizations that focus on strengthening communities throughout my entire career. Whether I was working at Riverview Center supporting survivors of sexual and domestic abuse, working at the Florence Crittenton Center in Los Angeles counseling at risk youth, or volunteering my time supporting the homeless of Skid Row, one factor remained constant when trying to measure the success of our mission. It ALWAYS came back to community engagement. The better we connected our work with the community and provided opportunities for them to get engaged, the most successful we were with preventing violence, mentoring, and securing sustainable housing.

You cannot strengthen a community without the community being involved. It’s impossible. And the beauty of a completely engaged community is not just about the betterment of the community. It’s also about the betterment of the individual. I think you really do realize a happier life knowing that you are helping others and contributing to the greater good.

Back to Moses. He sees our community in Dubuque Iowa as one that is connected; a community that potentially could secure 6 sewing machines. He wants the same for Nairobi. I don’t think we’ve realized our fullest potential. Not even close. I’m sitting here at One Mean Bean, writing this post, listening to the conversations going on around me. The table to the right of me is talking about the gospel. (sounds like a Bible study group) The guy across from me is on his laptop, wearing headphones, surfing the internet. Three young women just walked in from Loras College.

I don’t know any of them. I don’t even know the guy behind the counter. But I bet each of them would support Moses in some way. Maybe the Bible study group would go back to their church and make as ask to their congregation. I bet the young women from Loras could find 10 more friends that would all kick in 5 bucks to buy a sewing machine. Who knows? Maybe the guy on his laptop would be willing to share the need to his social network.

I dream about connecting our community. I really do. I dream about creating a network that allows people to get involved in the most meaningful ways and for individuals and organizations to have their needs met overnight. I believe we have that potential. I think anything can be realized….at the very least, 6 sewing machines.

What I learned recently from an 8 year old has forever changed the way I think about the work of non profits. Before I get into that though, let’s back up a dozen years. I spent so much time in Los Angeles trying to figure out the best way to implement different violence prevention programs to a city of nearly 4 million people. My job description as a domestic violence counselor with the Los Angeles Police Department didn’t include prevention efforts, but going into people’s homes day in and day out, creating crisis plans for survivors of domestic and sexual violence, practically forced my brain to start thinking of ways to stop that endless cycle.

Then I moved back home to Dubuque and worked for Riverview Center for 8 years. At the end of the day, I was the guy who signed off on any and all violence prevention efforts. During any one of my presentations I would share that the violence prevention program reached more than 44,000 students in one year. I was proud of that number. A team of educators throughout the tri-state area worked tirelessly to get into every school, business, and civic group in the hopes of branding the message of prevention. At the end of every year though, it was often difficult to measure success and to identify a lasting mark with any given audience.

It turns out that through all those great accomplishments, one critical ingredient was missing. Looking back, it seems so obvious. We were trying to own the work of violence prevention. Our vision of creating a community free of violence would most certainly never be realized by 25 employees and a few dozen volunteers. It was going to take the entire community.

When Clare approached Resources Unite with her vision of ending bullying at Hoover Elementary School it was tipping point for me when it comes to understanding how real social change is realized. I mean, who better to advocate for the end of bullying than a student that has seen and experienced it firsthand? It was evident after our first meeting with this 8 year old powerhouse that people were going to pay attention like never before bullying and harassment.

We’ve been helping Clare with her story, but it’s been her leading the way. It’s her passion. She knows what her school needs. And to be more accurate, she now knows what 23 schools need. That’s right. As of today, 23 Buddy Benches will be installed in elementary schools throughout the tri-state area. (and that list is growing every single day) People are coming out of the woodwork to sponsor a Buddy Bench. News of Clare’s success has made national headlines. In our last Clare Cares meeting, she mentioned that she would love to share her vision with Ellen. (yeah, that Ellen) She better get her dancing shoes ready because she’s probably going to get there.

I’m a hell of a storyteller. I know that to be true. When I get passionate about something, it’s hard for anyone to keep it contained. But what I’ve learned from Clare is that sometimes I’m not the right guy telling the story.

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