One Year On My Own
Don’t want to read? Take a listen here.
For 29 years, I worked for other people. I had a fulfilling career supporting organizations through fundraising and leadership development, and then nearly a decade supporting a family philanthropy’s commitment to Jewish organizations — locally, nationally, and globally. But as of May 15, 2025, that changed. I started working for myself — under the banner of Good Name Advisors.
I could have looked for another job — and I was thrilled to be recruited for other positions. But that didn’t feel right.
Previous experiences in my personal and professional life gave me the confidence to go out on my own. From founding and running the Jewish Entrepreneurs Network through the Jewish Federation of Detroit in the 1990s (one group still meets!) to watching my dad and then my brother build businesses from scratch, to being engaged with multiple nonprofits and helping them identify roadblocks, brainstorm solutions, and execute on decisions — I thought I was ready. Well, that’s not entirely true. I wasn’t ready. But as I tell other people: make the decision before you’re fully ready, because when you’re ready, the “right” time has usually passed.
This past year has been equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. I won’t pretend the early months weren’t scary — they were. The absence of a steady paycheck, a built-in team, and an organizational structure you can lean on is more disorienting than I expected. I was coming out of a depression, but didn’t even realize it until the fog really lifted. I made mistakes, some big and some small. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I had countless meetings and conversations, zooms and walks. All leading me to understand that the fear I felt in those early months gave way to something I hadn’t anticipated: clarity.
I very much enjoy the opportunity to control my own time, to be present with family and friends, and to have the flexibility that always felt just out of reach. Most of all, I love the work itself — talking with people about philanthropy and helping them to discover their interests, to question their assumptions, and to make thoughtful decisions about the organizations they support.
With individual philanthropists, our conversations rarely start with an organization they support or are interested in supporting. I’m more interested in the what — the values, the vision, the idea — and then the how and the where follow naturally from that. At the heart of it all is a simple belief: preserving your good name through philanthropy isn’t just a tagline. It’s a conviction that the way we give says something lasting about who we are.
Over this past year, my writing has been intentional in a different way. After decades representing other people’s voices — their missions, their visions, their words — I needed to find mine again. These posts have been as much about that rediscovery as anything else. I hope you’ve enjoyed getting to know how I think. One year in, I’m more convinced than ever that this was the right call. Not because it’s been easy, but because it’s been mine.
What’s next? You’ll still hear from me — but a little less often, and with a sharper focus. I’ll be writing more about philanthropy: the big questions donors wrestle with, the trends shaping the sector, and the conversations I think we should all be having. I’m sure some other off topic essays will sneak in, too.
A few questions I’ll be exploring — and I’d love to know which ones resonate with you:
- Does your giving reflect your values?
- Who should be part of your philanthropic decisions?
- Are you giving out of passion — or obligation?
- What’s stopping you from doing more?
- What does legacy mean to you?
What would you like me to write about? Reply, comment, or reach out — I’m listening.
L’chaim — To Life!
Fondly,
Kari
