.bodytext {float: left; } .floatimg-left-hort { float:left; margin-top:10px; margin-right: 10px; width:300px; clear:left;} .floatimg-left-caption-hort { float:left; margin-bottom:10px; width:300px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;} .floatimg-left-vert { float:left; margin-top:10px; margin-right:15px; width:200px;} .floatimg-left-caption-vert { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; font-size: 10px; width:200px;} .floatimg-right-hort { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 300px;} .floatimg-right-caption-hort { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 300px; font-size: 10px; } .floatimg-right-vert { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px;} .floatimg-right-caption-vert { float:left; margin-right:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px; font-size: 10px; } .floatimgright-sidebar { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 200px; border-top-style: double; border-top-color: black; border-bottom-style: double; border-bottom-color: black;} .floatimgright-sidebar p { line-height: 115%; text-indent: 10px; } .floatimgright-sidebar h4 { font-variant:small-caps; } .pullquote { float:right; margin-top:10px; margin-left:10px; margin-bottom:10px; width: 150px; background: url(http://www.dmbusinessdaily.com/DAILY/editorial/extras/closequote.gif) no-repeat bottom right !important ; line-height: 150%; font-size: 125%; border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} .floatvidleft { float:left; margin-bottom:10px; width:325px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;} .floatvidright { float:right; margin-bottom:10px; width:325px; margin-right:10px; clear:left;} I really like raising money. It involves getting to know people one on one – their history, their wants and wishes, what they care for and what they don’t. And mostly it means I get the chance to speak my own mind about who and what I think deserves support.

I can’t say I was always filled with such conviction. Fortunately the ever-savvy Maddie Levitt knew a sucker when she saw one. One of Iowa’s great community leaders, philanthropists and fund-raisers, she had me pegged for joining the board of the Boys and Girls Club of Des Moines at the ripe age of 20-something.

My excuses for not joining were many – too busy, no history with the organization and no means to contribute based on my paltry Des Moines Register reporter’s salary – but, of course, she would hear none of it. And she knew my parents. I remember watching Maddie and my mother organize the neighborhood United Way drive at our kitchen table. If I didn’t join at her invitation, my mother would surely hear of it.

It was the 1970s, and the Boys and Girls Club was a fledgling social services agency dedicated to serving kids in the neighborhood of East 14th Street and Washington Avenue. The board was almost as young as the organization and, though long on ambition for the future, frequently fell short of cash to accomplish those plans.

So naturally I went back to Maddie: tit for tat. Several of my fellow new board members and I asked her out to the Des Moines Club. How could a luncheon over white tablecloths with linen napkins not fail to impress? We offered wine; she politely passed.

Then we asked her if she would single-handedly fund a critical renovation project planned for the club. After all, her father was a founding member. Maddie answered our question with a question: How much had we each contributed? Naturally we shook in silence. Then she looked me in the eye (with her usual all-knowing, conspiratorial twinkle) and said, “I’ll tell you what, Charles; I’ll do half if you do half, and we can wrap up this campaign of ours today.”

The Nellis Levitt room in the club was completed just months later. Many of you can undoubtedly relate. So many of us have been put in this position by Maddie. At Drake University, we call that kind of experience a “teachable moment.” Don’t ask for money unless you give it. And never count on anyone’s passion but your own.

Maddie’s money to give was her own. She wasn’t deciding how to allocate a corporation’s requisite community dollars. Frankly, that’s what gave her leverage. If Maddie decided she wanted to be president and CEO of any given local business, would anyone need to read her resume? Clearly, hers remains unwritten. What counts is the community resume that one builds from actions rather than listings of marketable traits, seminars attended and degrees earned.

As an educator, it can be a challenge to teach the real reasons for community service. When full-time jobs are becoming more time-consuming and demanding, how much more can be expected? Selfishly, what value does community service add to a “marketable” resume? Why bother when the business world seems increasingly focused on work performance.

Because a job, an education and community work all have one thing in common: In Maddie’s words, “You get what you give.”

Your actions are influential and inactions even more so. And thankfully, there is a Maddie to check your credentials at the door and open it wide.

Charles C. Edwards Jr. is dean of the Drake University’s School of Journalism and Mass Communication and the College of Business and Public Administration and a former publisher of The Des Moines Register.