On November 9, 2001, Mrs. Teresa Heinz was awarded the 2001 Boston Bar Federation Public Service Award. Mrs. Heinz delivered the following remarks at a celebration at the John & Abigail Adams Ball in Boston, Massachusetts. It is a great pleasure to be here with you tonight. And it is a great honor to be selected to receive the Boston Bar Foundation's 2001 Public Service Award. In two days, we will mark the passage of two months since that day that added terrible new dimensions to the meaning of infamy. The week after September 11th, my husband and I were able to go to New York, and to visit Ground Zero and Pier 94. We all know about the unimaginable bravery of those who lost their lives rushing into the burning buildings. And we are right, absolutely right, to celebrate their deeds and their spirit. But, as the days, and now the months, have passed, we should also think about the wider world; about the quiet bravery of the ordinary citizens and families who have to carry on, whose lives were so shattered but who refuse to be broken. We don't often hear so much about this type of strength. It plays itself out quietly, over the course of years, across a thousand nights of silent prayers, and a thousand mornings of deciding to carry on. And it often emerges not in the wake of a sudden, headline-grabbing tragedy, but slowly, in the grinding face of poverty, of hardship, of illness, of the countless challenges this world can, and very often does, throw our way. Fortunately there has been a greatly renewed interest in the role that philanthropy can play in this regard. Indeed, there has been a truly staggering outpouring of generosity. People have discovered that philanthropy isn't just something distant and dressed up, the province of rich people making decisions in remote buildings. People have discovered that, when they want to help, when they want to do something, organized philanthropy can provide the ready-made ways and means for them to make a statement of solidarity, to show support, to demonstrate caring, to make a difference. This Sunday, November 11th, will also be Abigail Adams' birthday. Thanks to David McCullough's book, our second First Lady is enjoying something of a renaissance these days, and she is wearing her 257 years very lightly. Two weeks ago, my husband and I went to Quincy to visit the Adams National Historical Park. If you haven't been there, or haven't been there recently, I highly recommend a visit. In accordance with the thinking of the time, John and Abigail Adams considered themselves to be philanthropists. In fact, the word itself—"philanthropy"—had only recently been coined to signify the generous love for all men (and all women), without distinction, and the inclination to promote the public good, that was an ideal of the 18th century enlightenment. The daily lives of the Founding Fathers (and Mothers), as we can see in the voluminous and extraordinary correspondence of John and Abigail Adams, was filled with practical philanthropy. Almost all the problem solving in those days was community-based and philanthropic. If people saw something that needed to be done in their neighborhood or their town, they did it themselves. Because they knew that, if they didn't, it wouldn't be done. That was just the way things were; that was the simple reality of those austere times. In Abigail Adams' case, she observed this grass-roots philanthropy at first hand as a child, because she often accompanied her mother to visit the sick and take food and clothing and fuel to needy families. This philanthropic impulse underlay the creation of the new republic, and it continued until well into the 20th century. After the Great Depression and the Second World War, the emergence of government programs, and the dominance of the great foundations, tended to divert attention away from the importance of the traditional notion of philanthropy as voluntary public responsibility. But I think that, over the last few decades, we have been restoring—and celebrating—this original notion that philanthropy has an integral role to play in America's daily life. I was taught the fundamentals of philanthropy—voluntary giving—not in a classroom, and not in the modern, organized fashion, but as a child growing up in Mozambique, in East Africa. (Curiously, I learned them, like the Adamses, in a colonial context.) My dad was a doctor, and I think a great one—not just because of his medical skills, but because of the truly unique things he gave to his patients, to all of his patients: his time, his sincere interest, his real caring. Going with him on his rounds in the bush, and watching him in his surgery in our home, I discovered the irreplaceable importance of individual involvement. At the Heinz Family Philanthropies, we have particularly focused on issues involving human health and aging, the environment, and women's economic opportunities. We have funded studies, and undertaken and encouraged research, aimed at clarifying these issues, and providing the necessary background for the people who will actually write the laws and cast the votes in these vital areas. I subscribe to the notion that philanthropy is a form of investing. It is a unique form to be sure, and its bottom line is measured differently. But it still involves allocating resources toward an activity organized around specific goals. And I believe that, as investors, our involvement doesn't end when the box is ticked, or the check is signed. We should expect results; we should be interested in whether the goals are being met. Public will and public policy are the basic contexts within which philanthropy operates today. So an essential function of philanthropy involves providing people, including policy makers, with the information they need in order to make better decisions. We have also espoused two principles that I am glad to see the Boston Bar Foundation has also followed. First, we believe that, where truly practical philanthropy is concerned, the opportunity to leverage resources is profound. And, derived from this insight, we believe that philanthropy need not be expensive. Some of the most exciting grants that we have ever made involved quite small amounts of money, but a great deal of creativity and thought. The tremendous bang that you get for what are, in the scheme of things, comparatively few bucks—to dozens of organizations providing legal services for the underserved, and for community services to promote understanding and respect for the legal system and for the administration of justice—is very impressive. I also believe that a most common denominator of the most effective philanthropy is that it be attuned to, and, if possible, rooted in, the community —or communities—it is intended to serve. Real places, real cities, real neighborhoods, where real people live and work and play. An excellent example of all these principles at work is the Children's Outreach Project you fund. As you know, among other things, it provides law-related education, summer jobs, and mock trial experience for Boston public school students, I have been told about a young woman from Puerto Rico, Migdalia Bruno. Perhaps some of you know her. The daughter of a woman who had only a grade school education, Migdalia was a Boston public school student when she was inspired to pursue a legal career after participating in your Children's Outreach Project. As the Project demonstrates, the commitment of time, and the providing of a positive example, can be every bit as important as the actual dollar amount involved. Economic opportunities for women begin with education and with providing professional role models for young women. So Migdalia Bruno became the first person in her family to attend college. Then she went to my husband's alma mater, Boston College Law School. I think that, in her own way and in her own time, Abigail Adams was thinking about the needs and the rights and the potential of the Migdalia Brunos when she admonished her husband to pay "particular care and attentionÖ.to the ladies". I am motivated in my work by the profound conviction that we have the opportunity to shape the kind of world we live in, and the kind of world we will leave behind for future generations. As I have said, philanthropy isn't only about money. This is important to remember, because people often worry that they don't have the resources to make a real difference, that their contribution won't matter. But in my experience, philanthropy has much more to do with what's in your head, and in your heart, than what's in your wallet. The health of our community is determined by the contributions that each and every one of us makes, or chooses not to make. I congratulate you on the choices, and the contributions, you are making. And I thank you again for this very signal honor. Back to Top