Last November in Washington DC, Lani was presenting to a room of philanthropic colleagues, most of whom she’d never met. Half way through the presentation, she found her hand casually resting on the leg of the co-presenter sitting beside her. Unfazed, she paused for only a moment before commenting: “It’s testament to the deep work we did together that I have only known Steven for a few weeks, and yet my hand is touching his leg right now, and somehow, that’s okay.” The eyes in the room shifted inquisitively to Steven, who added: “I can confirm, it really is okay.”
This story exemplifies in a nutshell the Lani I knew and loved. She had a silly, disarming charm that made it easy to love her. It was her serious approach to the work of philanthropy juxtaposed with this intuitive, playful approach to relationship building that made Lani such a beacon in her professional community. And it was no doubt her infectious, uninhibited giggle that kept the room in stitches long after her hand left Steven’s lap.
Lani understood the value of relationships. Even if you only met her once, you felt close to her because she was fully present and she cared to know everyone, no matter their stature or status, background or position, context, persuasion, or age.
I met Lani when I was 22. She was a board member at an organization where I was hired on as support staff. She was starting a project with the General Service Foundation focused on young leaders and asked me to serve as an advisor. As a young woman at the outset of my career, Lani was one of the few people to take a genuine interest in who I was and what I had to say. Most notably, she was curious about what new insight I might hold because I was a young person in the field, not in spite of it.
When Lani asked me to join the General Service Foundation as a Program Officer at the age of 25, I was junior in most rooms by a decade or more. But she never had the slightest doubt that I belonged. I estimate she accelerated my career by 5 to 10 years simply by believing in me.
I know now Lani was the greatest mentor I could ever hope to have. But at the time, I’m not sure I would have described her as such. Part of her effortless skill was to operate from a place of parity, even when I could hardly be considered her equal. Instead of being trained as her subordinate, she empowered me as her peer.
Over the years she became one of my best friends and closest confidants. No subject was off the table and every emotion, challenge, setback, and accomplishment was honored even while it was critically explored. It is this combination of acceptance balanced by expectation for further growth that made Lani so pivotal in my career and beyond.
But you can’t know Lani through one person’s story, because it’s the sheer number of people who had an experience similar to mine that made her truly remarkable. In the last week, staff and board of the Foundation received countless messages from colleagues around the country who felt this deep connection and mentorship from Lani.
Notes like this one from Desiree Flores: She was there for me as a young 20-something just starting out in philanthropy, up until present day. I’ve relied on her smart advice and incredible kindness throughout all phases of my career.
Or another from Kalpana Krishnamurthy: Lani always made me feel like my contributions were valuable, that I wasn't just some angry young woman of color in philanthropic spaces.
One person mentioned that he only met Lani twice but those two meetings gave him a whole different sense of his career path because she took him so seriously.
Lani had a heart that held hundreds. And if she was holding you and she was with you, she gave you her perfect and total attention, making you feel seen and heard and valued in her presence.
The depth of her love for people extended far beyond those she knew personally. I think that’s why injustice hit so hard for Lani. Wherever she saw others unable to live full and abundant lives – whether in her field, her community, her country, or beyond – she was pulled to act.
Through the Foundation’s funding, Lani connected with the Colorado Immigrant Rights Coalition, an organization that works to make the state more welcoming to all by organizing immigrants and amplifying their voices. When Lani found out they had a small chapter in the Roaring Fork Valley, she began volunteering her time with the group of young leaders.
She told me how inspired she was by the DREAMER activists she met: immigrant youth who came here as young children, bravely standing up for their right to attend high school without fear of deportation and then to go on and afford state universities. She saw in some of the leaders an incredible spark and courage. She told me that she expected one of them in particular to some day be state Governor. And her commitment ran deep. Even on a cold winter night, she bundled up Jack and Katie and took them to a candlelight vigil organized by the youth.
It’s not every Director of a foundation that would get involved at the grassroots-level in this way. Lani’s work was complex and challenging and most of us – I have to admit myself included – often go home exhausted and satisfied with the good we do through our day jobs. But Lani seemed to have boundless energy to continue fighting for what she believed in. And perhaps most amazingly, she never sought an ounce of credit. What motivated Lani was not the limelight but the outcome. And if she could help, whether as a presence in the crowd or a voice on the board, she was there.
And so in her professional life, I will always remember Lani’s ability to lead with intuition and grace, her remarkable ease at sitting with uncertainty. Many will recall how she could be so terribly disorganized at times and how she rarely had a plan – even when we all begged her to! – but it always, somehow, seemed to work out. Instead of fretting and plotting, she invested her time in support of what she knew to be the movement’s greatest asset: people. By doing so she was quietly crafting a vast web of deep connections. That web will long be compelled by Lani’s vision of a better world. We will continue her work.
Of course, this spirit of connection was nowhere more true than with Lani’s closest friends and her children. I consider myself one of the lucky ones because I got to talk to Lani nearly every week for more than a decade. Despite her many responsibilities, we started most calls with 10 minutes, 20 minutes, sometimes the better part of an hour connecting personally. My own heartbreak in this tragedy is that I will no longer enjoy her sharp insight, eagerness to conspire, or heartfelt friendship in navigating this beautiful and complicated world. We were supposed to become old ladies together, meeting on couches and barstools for decades to come to reflect on the changing times and help calibrate each other’s course.
One area we often explored was her approach to being a mom. Lani was a model for me as a mother, and if my son grows up to be anything like Katie and Jack, I will consider my job very well done. I love how closely she listened to them, to the value she placed on open and honest communication, to the way they delighted together in the wonder of the world, more as co-explorers than as parent and child. Lani was in all ways the model of joyous motherhood.
I have a vivid image of Lani from a few years back, after my husband and I picked up the family from the train station in San Francisco. In the rear view mirror, I could see her wedged between the car seats of Jack and Katie in the back of my little Prius. Even following a long day of travel, Lani showed no signs of impatience. Instead, Lani, Jack, and Katie giggled all the way to dinner, trading inside jokes and whispering silly secrets.
And so to you, Katie and Jack, I want to share my first-hand knowledge of how deeply your mama loved you. In all those weekly conversations we had, there was never a time Lani was happier than when sharing stories of your growth and adventure. Your mama left us too early, but I see so much of her in you: she lives on through your courage during this difficult time, and she will live on in every accomplishment and challenge you face from here on out.
The love in this room for the two of you is huge. We are here for you – all of us. But this love is unequal to the love your mom held for you and to the joy that each of you, in your special and amazing ways, gave back to her every single day. You were her perfect angels and that is forever how it will be.
As many of you know, Lani and the kids took great inspiration from the Star Wars epic, and increasingly Lani brought this up in conversation with her peers. In the past few days I was compelled to unearth for myself the great wisdom of her beloved Yoda. This description from Wookiepedia (yes, Wookie-pedia) of the little green guru could just as easily describe Lani herself:
“Though arguably the Order's greatest master of the Force and most skilled warrior, Yoda believed most firmly in the importance of instructing younger generations and never missed an opportunity to ensure his students learn from their experiences. At heart, the diminutive Jedi Master was a teacher; indeed, he instructed nearly all the Jedi in the order, to some extent, during his reign as Grand Master.”
I know we are all facing an uncertain future without our treasured friend and gifted leader, yet we cannot shut down or give in to fear. As Lani and Jack could certainly quote Yoda: “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”
To counter this fear takes courage. David Whyte, a writer introduced to me by Lani, says:
“Courage is the measure of our heartfelt participation with life, with another, with a community, a work, a future. To be courageous, is not necessarily to go anywhere or do anything except to make conscious those things we already feel deeply and then to live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences. Whether we stay or whether we go - to be courageous is to stay close to the way we are made.”
I hope we can all be inspired by the extent to which Lani lived this truth. She was always herself, no matter the circumstance or consequence, and everyone loved her for it.
Lani – life will never be the same without you, and yet we will all try to have the courage to walk authentically in your footsteps. When we do, we… and the world… will be better for it. And when, inevitably, we fall short, we’ll feel the compassionate touch of your hand resting lightly on our leg, reminding us that life is most fully experienced in deep connection to those we love.
I love you, Lani.
