Each year around this time the college foundation and alumni office organizes a Fall Fund Drive to raise money for student scholarships and such. A few faculty and staff are asked to volunteer to be team leaders, and those team leaders are then asked to assemble a team of six or so of their colleagues to go forth and shake down faculty and staff that are not a part of a Fall Fund Drive team for cash.

Several of these teams have been together for many years and enjoy the friendly competition to be named top fundraiser. This is my tenth year at the college, and early on in my career, before I felt that I had earned the right to say, “no”, I reluctantly agreed to be a team leader for the Fall Fund Drive.

I very much dislike fundraising and lack whatever motivates one to engage in friendly competition to be named top fundraiser, so I organized a team of like-minded colleagues to make the process as painless as possible. Not so surprisingly, for several years, my team aptly avoided the bragging rights, accolades, and general hubbub enjoyed by the top fundraisers.

I’m not real sure where we ever finished in the mix, as we also successfully avoided the Fall Fund Drive Kick-Off Diner and the Fall Fund Drive Award Ceremony. Whatever slacker depth of fundraising ineptitude we accomplished, it was never enough to not get asked to do it again…and again…and again. Perhaps we didn’t try not to try hard enough? Slackers are like that.

This fall, my tenth fall, I said, “no” when asked to be a team leader for the Fall Fund Drive. I said “no” for a couple reasons, firstly, as stated, I don’t like fundraising, and secondly, I know the funds help a lot of students that may have otherwise not been able to afford college, so I thought maybe someone else could do a better job of shaking people down for a good cause.

I thought I’d made a clean break from the Fall Fund Drive, but…a colleague, a nice guy, someone I respect, someone that selflessly and positively contributes to the campus community, asked me to be on his Fall Fund Drive team. He gave me my list of victims and I headed out to track them each down, corner them in their offices, and ask them for money.

My first stop was the campus maintenance office managers office. Despite my lackluster sales pitch, she agreed to donate. Donors get to choose where their funds go, and when I asked her if she had a specific scholarship or fund she’d like to donate to, she said, “The Sgt. Cory Mreck Scholarship.”

Without thinking, I said, “How do you spell that?” Have you ever said something, and while your mouth is saying it your brain attempts, but fails, to put a stop to the stream of words coming out? As I said, “How do you spell that?” I realized it was spelled the same as her last name, and as I realized that, I saw a picture of a young man in a military uniform on her desk.

I said, “Is that your son?” She said, “Yes. He was killed in Iraq in 2004. He’d only been their 8-days.” I said, “I’m sorry for your loss.” She smiled, nodded and said, “Thank you.”

On the walk to her office, I was whining to myself about fundraising and having to take part in the Fall Fund Drive. When I left her office, my mood had changed, things I had taken for granted on the walk across campus from my office to hers suddenly occupied every part of my being. The vividness of the sky, the breeze moving lightly across my face and rustling the autumn leaves. I closed my eyes for a moment, grateful for the day.

That day, I realized that for many it’s not about the funds raised, it’s about keeping the name of a loved one alive for a little while longer. It’s about paying forward opportunities. It’s about gratitude. It’s about being a good human. It’s about time I get over myself and be a useful member of the Fall Fund Drive. Oftentimes, moving towards resistance is the right move. So it goes.