I wrote The Nonprofit Sector aka My Former Life almost eight months ago. Buried in the recitation of the remnants of that life was “tried to start a training institute.” It’s my subject today.

Many years ago a local nonprofit ran an inclusion program, designed to train and place minorities on nonprofit boards. There was nothing especially unusual about the program. Similar programs existed—and exist today—in many communities. The programs offer training in how to serve in the nonprofit community, along with a placement effort. Nothing wrong with any of this … but, and this is the question no one could answer, “Why do we assume minorities need training and white people don’t?”

I’ve served on many boards, committees, commissions,

I walked away from the nonprofit sector six months ago, after almost 20 years of pretty intense involvement/engagement. Working with charitable organizations was my non-working, non-family life. (I chaired four boards and the United Way Tocqueville Society, helped create Social Venture Partners Tucson, shut down one organization, tried to start a training institute, and served on many, many committees, task forces, etc. I also raised some money for good causes.)

Why did I walk away? I was tired and, at least in my own mind, had become ineffective. I left with plenty of anxieties about how I would fill my time—enter Mark Rubin Writes—and what would become of my relationships, but I knew for sure it was time

This seems like a good time to bring up my disclaimer:  Mark Rubin Writes belongs to me, and not to the terrific law firm, Mesch, Clark & Rothschild, P.C., with which I am affiliated. Opinions are mine alone, and if they happen to be shared by anyone at my law firm, that is happenstance.

Why I am disclaiming? I’m using my space to commend two fine men who want the thankless job of running states in the United States of America. Many men and women are running for office in 2014. Many are fine people; some are not, and some are just plain awful. I’m writing about two men because, as it happens, I go back pretty far with

Graduation! Truly a special time, when all around us are young (mostly) people who are ready to make their way in the world. (Even as I write these words I get verklempt, which is Yiddish for excited, overjoyed, and full of emotion.)

I was walking to Brueggers for a bagel on Thursday for lunch and ran into a line of cars the likes of which we only see downtown on Friday evenings, Second Saturdays, and the day in May when some of the colleges at the University of Arizona hold graduation ceremonies at the Tucson Convention Center arena. Verklempt.

Every time I checked Facebook today, there was another picture of a graduate, usually with proud parents. Verklempt.

And then