It all fell apart so quickly. On Dec 8, 2008, I had raised millions of dollars for a distinguished arts charity. Three days later, Bernie Madoff was arrested, and we lost millions. I had been at this job for three years, starting when I was 26. Donors called, furious.

I took responsibility, even though the decision had been made carefully 15 years prior. Everyone had an opinion, but no one had a solution. The charity needed to survive and to fulfill $1.7 million in obligations to kids and other nonprofits. My incredible board chair, Bill Schwartz, led by example, and without him I would never have gotten the chance to succeed.

I had to say to a notable billionaire, “I am extremely sorry we are in this situation. It was not my intention when I was 13 years old and had never been to New York City to convince a multimillion-dollar foundation to invest with someone who eventually would be proven to steal all this money so that I can be in the situation of being yelled at by you and likely losing my job.”

The man paused, hearing how ridiculous and misdirected his anger actually was. That was my first lesson in taking responsibility. The second came when working with Paul and Kristina Dalio, along with their father, Ray Dalio, years later. Two days into my position, we faced an extremely challenging choice that, in hindsight, could have been made differently. I immediately took responsibility for fixing it, but that wasn’t good enough.  

What I learned, which has shaped me to this day, was that I had to take full responsibility for the decision that had been made by someone else as if I had made that decision, which led to my making the most informed next step possible. I wasn’t to blame for what happened. It wasn’t about my ego or even my desire to fix it. If I hadn’t accepted that full responsibility, then the outcome may have been colored by the fact that I knew deep down I hadn’t created this challenge in the first place. 

That was my second lesson in taking responsibility. The third one defined my life. There is a lot written about the power of hearing “no.” At this point, I had heard “no” about 10,000 times, or even more.  As I faced numerous challenges to resurrect the arts charity from disaster, I sat above the blame game. Instead of walking away defeated, I stayed curious, taking the time to learn about what made that investor/business leader/philanthropist actually passionate, and what they were focused on. 

I purposefully expanded my circles by getting involved in dozens of things completely antithetical to my day-to-day. Everyone told me I should stick to my “tribe” and network in it. I did — and also said “yes” to everything else. Two years later, I had a network of thousands of people from over two dozen circles. And I had three things no one else had — but at that time I thought I only had two.

First, I had built trust amongst everyone by leaning in, delivering value, and asking nothing in return. Second, all of these incredible people had told me their passions in order for me to help them, which meant now I knew what they wanted.

A few years passed, and then every week was filled with 10–15 calls from extremely connected people asking me for introductions they couldn’t get for themselves. That’s when I realized the third thing: I had built a diverse network based on action and trust with the most valuable resource in business and philanthropy, the connector. This is the person who knows everyone, makes introductions all the time, and now trusted me.

I had built trust amongst the trust makers, people whose soft skills of vulnerability and curiosity had become strengths, and all of whom acted with generosity and practiced daily gratitude. I had been told as CEO to focus on what was in front of me, and we’d get through it. Instead, I chose to expand my capabilities, study everyone around me, and learn who to spend my time with. 

Every year, I faced criticism for my focus, but the data never lied. I was responsible for 60–85% of the fundraising for the arts charity, bringing in 200–350 donors annually. My close rate for meetings was 45%, which fell so far above the norm in fundraising because I had begun to master connection at a whole new level.  

I would not have succeeded and gotten to this point in my career as CEO, which I have been for 20 years, now running my own companies, if I had stayed the course without these lessons:

• I embraced the power of “no” and turned it into incredible actionable insight.
• I gave without an expectation of return, building trust through action.
• I led with humility, never defensive, but instead focused on the outcome.
  
  

Embracing purposeful community will change our world — as long as we all do the self-work needed to do more than just help ourselves and blame others, and we rise up as leaders to enrich others before we enrich ourselves.

My Keys to Building Capital Relationships

1. Capital raising is a long game, so build a relationship first to demonstrate your value. This is about building relationships, not transactional interactions.

2. People only invest in other people, so embrace the principles of vulnerability and curiosity to be a leader who asks what your investors want to see from their investment and in you, rather than telling them only what you want.

3. You would never invest in someone who tells you to “trust me;” you would only invest in those who have demonstrated how they would hold your trust, so embrace the principles of generosity and gratitude, as they keep doors open without being opportunistic.

4. Anytime you get a no, offer to help with what that investor needs. In return, they will value you and make the intro you actually want. By being a connector, you build a stronger community even if your day-to-day interests do not become integrated.

5. Don’t partner with people whose values are not aligned. Be bold and share what you want and what you believe. Make sure you hear back as to any investor’s “why” as well.