When I was a young lawyer I joined every board that invited me. I figured it was good for business and at the same time I might be able to do some good.  Except of course, everyone assumed that as a lawyer I’d love to contribute my expertise to…rewriting the bylaws.

Yup. The bylaws.  How exciting. 

I decided to stop joining boards right then.

However, when I moved from Washington, D.C. to Rochester it was a board membership that gave me purpose. I was invited to sit on the Board of Gilda’s Club of Rochester a cancer support community. When my Dad died suddenly, I’d chosen the organization for donations made in his memory. It was only a year after we’d moved to our new community, but it’s an incredibly giving community and so many people gave in my dad’s memory that they thought I could be an effective board member.

This time I didn’t join the governance committee.  Instead, I joined the Gala committee, and the next thing I knew I was chairing the darn thing. What a way to meet your new community. 

I co-chaired that Gala with a friend who was also new in town and fighting her own cancer battle, Cherie Geiser. It was one of the greatest gifts of my life to focus my time on something purposeful and meaningful for so many others – and to do it with her. We actually had a ball while throwing a ball.

I finally left that board when I started writing my column in the newspaper. I didn’t want to be a member of just one board in my community but to make a difference for as many organizations as I could  in my role as the putative “town cryer.”

I effectively pushed off all invitations to join Boards for years. And it was fine -  I loved doing what I loved doing – raising money  - and being what I call the “unexpected hero” for many organizations rather than diving in deep into one organization.

But years later I went to a lunch back in Washington, D.C. for a friend Rabbi Sherre Hirsch, who was being honored by an organization called JWI. I had never heard of JWI myself, but I’ll never forget listening to Sherre share her revelation that her mother had been the victim of domestic violence by her father.  During that same event, I heard a young woman share her experience of sexual assault on campus and it brought back my memories of my own experience. 

I learned that the mission of the organization is to end domestic and sexual violence against women; grow financial literacy; and develop women’s leadership.  The non-profit was born as B’nai B’rith Women and re-named JWI and the work refocused over 25 years ago when one of the members of the organization was killed by her husband.

I sat there speechless, wiping my tears, and in that moment I knew this was the organization where I needed to help repair the world, or what we call in Hebrew: tikkun olam.

I remember saying to my husband: “Now that’s a non-profit I want to be a part of.” And a few years later I had the opportunity to do so as a Woman to Watch myself and share my story:

But I kept saying no to joining the Board.

I kept doing for the organization – raising money and awareness – and yet I was doing it without taking full responsibility. And then I realized if I truly wanted to make a difference I’d have to focus and commit.

So I said yes.  And guess what committee I ended up joining: governance.

And surprise, I love it.  Because I’ve learned that “boring” governance is where you can shape the future of an organization, create a more effective Board, and ensure that the organization is sustainable over the years.

What I love even more is committing myself to an important mission and helping to craft and ensure that the vision is realized. And most important, I love being connected to these particular Board members.  It’s a circle of meaning and connection that I wasn’t expecting when I said yes to joining.

Ultimately, I’m so glad each time I’ve said, “Yes to the Board” for what I’ve learned about organizations, the difference-making I’ve been a part of, and for my own growth as a leader. Because Outlaw Leaders know when they say yes…they truly can make an impact.