“That’s why y’all are here.”
The speaker finished, and the room went quiet in that specific way — the kind that means everyone is trying to hold it together.
I looked around the table at these eight women and one very good sport of a man, and I said, “That's why y'all are here.”
That was the moment. That was exactly it.
Let me back up.
Every year, Jim and I sit down — usually sometime in that last, slightly chaotic week of December — and have our giving conversation. We talk about the organizations that matter to us, the causes we want to support, and what we can do this year. Time, talent, or treasure — the nonprofit world has a phrase for it, and we try to think across all three. Jim volunteers his legal expertise. I give my time to United to Learn and our kids schools. And we try to be intentional with our financial gifts, even when life makes it easy to just push it to the last possible moment.
It works. But this year, I wanted to do something a little different.
My dear friend Becca Leonard is the Chief Development Officer at Dallas CASA — an organization dedicated to protecting children in foster care through volunteer advocates because every child deserves at least one consistent, caring adult in their corner. I've attended their annual Cherish the Children luncheon before. I've written a check at the end of the year. I've shown up as an audience member and left moved and grateful and a little anonymous.
This year, I bought a table.
It felt a little scary, honestly. If you know anything about charity events, you know that a sponsored table means your name is on it — literally. And I had this moment of: is this showy? Is this too much? What will people think?
And then I had a better thought: wait. Model it.
I'm not putting my name on a building. I'm not here to broadcast my finances or tell anyone what they should do with theirs. But I do believe in intentional giving. I believe in making generosity social, not just transactional. And I thought — what if instead of sitting quietly in the back, I brought the people I love most to the front?
So I did. I curated a table of nine people — women I love, friends who are among the best humans I know, people I thought would be moved by this mission and might want to do something about it. Some of them knew each other. Some of them didn't. I had us all on a text thread beforehand, doing a little nemawashi of my own — tending the roots before we even walked in the door.
And then Cia walked to the podium.
Aliscia Brorman — known as Cia — is an advocate and movement builder dedicated to transforming the child welfare system. I don't want to try to capture what she said because I won't do it justice. What I can tell you is that by the time she finished, there wasn't a dry eye at our table. And we are not a group of people who cry easily — we are a group of mothers, advocates, women who have seen things. And we were undone.
I looked around at each of them and I just felt — full. Proud. Like I had done something right that day.
Not because I bought a table. But because I brought them to that moment.
At least two conversations happened at that table about becoming a Dallas CASA volunteer advocate — the kind of trained, court-appointed advocate who becomes the one consistent adult in a child's life during one of the most frightening seasons they'll ever face. We talked about timing, about when our own kids will be older, about what it would mean to say yes to that kind of commitment. Seeds were planted.
And I watched my friends Allison and Dominique — who had never met — exchange numbers at the end of the afternoon. Just two amazing people, newly connected, because they happened to be seated next to each other at a table I put together for a Friday luncheon.
Connection within connection within connection.
Here's what I keep thinking about:
You've probably heard of “time, talent, and treasure”. Inside baseball of the non-profit world that equate to three levers of giving — and they're real and important. But what happens when you do all three together?
Think about giving circles — groups of people pooling their resources to decide collectively where to give. Or a group of attorneys showing up together to offer free legal services. Or a company that dedicates a day to volunteer side by side. The giving is the same. But doing it together multiplies everything — the impact, the awareness, the seeds planted, and honestly, the joy of it.
That's what I wanted to create at that table. Jim and I were sharing our treasure, yes. But by inviting others to join us, we gave them a door into something they might not have walked through on their own. And every single person at that table gave in some way — their dollars, their attention, their hearts. And a mission that some of them knew vaguely became something personal and urgent and real.
That's the multiplying effect of together. You don't just give more — you inspire more. And the ripple goes further than you can see from where you're sitting.
I'm not at the stage of my life where I can be a CASA volunteer yet — not with the time and commitment it truly deserves. But I can give my treasure. I can give my table. I can give my people. And someday, when my kids are a little older, I'll give my time too.
For now, I'll be in that room every year. And I'll keep filling that table.
(And speaking of modeling — the very next morning, I found myself in a school library in Pleasant Grove with my daughter Vivian by my side, sorting through a workroom that hadn't seen love in years. She gave up Saturday morning cartoons and didn't want to leave when it was time to go. But that's a story for next week.)
If you're in Dallas and want to learn more about Dallas CASA, you can find them at dallascasa.org. And keep an eye out for Cia — she said she's coming back to Dallas. I'll be there. I have a feeling I won't be the only one from our table.
Emily Sanford is CMO at Sunny, a nonprofit dedicated to building a more connected world. She also writes at A Glittering, where she explores the intersection of career, creativity, and what it actually means to lead with heart. To stay up to date, follow along on Substack.