Leemu Madison (March 2026)

Over the years, my work at Daphne increased, and I went from managing systems and dates to holding relationships. As the primary point of contact for grantees, I listened to their challenges, celebrated their wins, and translated their realities into board memos that attempted to reflect the scope and context of their work. That change in responsibility brought an understanding of grantmaking that I had never considered prior to working at a foundation. I began to understand that grantmaking is more than moving resources; it’s about holding responsibility and doing so with care. 

Most of my work at Daphne is understated. Not because it is unappreciated, but because it happens between the formalities of grant cycles and board dockets. Much of the work unfolds quietly, in the way we show up for people outside of formal processes. It doesn’t always show up as a metric or milestone and, as a result, cannot be easily quantified. Relationship building is a steady, ongoing practice of listening, adapting, and contextualizing to ensure the institutional decisions are grounded in lived realities. 

In practice, this looks like: 

● Replacing written reports with oral reporting; 

● Adjusting grant payment schedules so organizations can receive grants when it best serves their annual cash flow; 

● Writing memos for the Daphne board that framed an organization’s wins and setbacks within broader economic and social pressures rather than reducing it to performance. 

During moments of collective strain, including the COVID years, we did not invent new values. Rather, we leaned more fully into the ones we already held. We listened more closely. We adapted with intention. We examined our own processes and asked whether they were creating unnecessary steps for organizations already navigating immense complexity. That’s what trust looks like to me: being willing to change the system. 

When people speak about trust in philanthropy, it can sometimes sound aspirational or even performative, especially if grant practices do not reflect real trust. Over the past decade, I have come to see trust as a practical tool that requires humility, flexibility, and consistency. Trust is built when grantees feel they can speak honestly about challenges without fear of penalty. It grows when reporting becomes a conversation rather than a performance. It strengthens when funders recognize that timing, cash flow, and context matter as much as outcomes.

In reality, practicing trust is often less dramatic than it sounds. Many of the changes we made at Daphne were small. They required intention and attention. Listening carefully enough to hear strains and offering flexibility before it was formally requested.

Some of my understanding of this work comes from my mother, who believed that work is good when you are truly invested in it and care about the people involved. That lesson has shaped how I approach grantmaking. Systems matter. Financial diligence matters. But what ultimately sustains the work are relationships rooted in respect.

Looking back over the past decade with Daphne, my growth has been less about titles and more about stewardship. I learned to frame complexity without flattening it, to hold accountability alongside empathy, and to use writing to bridge worlds – helping the board understand what community organizations are navigating on a daily basis.

As I say goodbye to this place of care and learning, I carry with me the belief that philanthropy must continue to lean into trust, especially in moments of uncertainty like the one we’re in now. Listening, adjusting, and contextualizing are not secondary to the work. They are the work. If more institutions treat trust not as rhetoric but as practice, we can build funding relationships that are steadier, more responsive, and truly aligned with the communities they aim to support.

After ten years, I leave with deep gratitude for the work and relationships that have shaped me and with a clearer sense of the principles that continue to guide how I understand this work:

1. Grantmaking is about responsibility, not just resources.
2. The most important work is often invisible.
3. Trust is built through practice, not language.
4. Accountability and empathy must coexist.
5. How you fund matters as much as what you fund.

As Daphne explores a new chapter, I hope part of the legacy we leave is in how we funded; in the quiet adjustments that created the conditions that allowed organizations to do the work they are called to do. In this moment, the question for funders is simple:
In times of collective strain or uncertainty, how are you creating the conditions for organizations to do their work and thrive?