As we celebrate John Knox’s retirement after almost 3 decades at the Department of Juvenile Justice, I’m also celebrating something else.
His decades of commitment to City Youth Now.
I met John in 2019 when I became Executive Director. The organization had served young people for more than 60 years and, like many nonprofits, had experienced its share of leadership transitions. I wanted to build on that history and create a strong foundation for what came next.
John walked into the office, introduced himself, and mentioned that he had been volunteering for decades. He’d served as a board member, supported programs and operations, and become the organization’s keeper of institutional knowledge.
I remember thinking, I need to spend more time with John.
I wanted to hear every story. What worked. What didn’t. What lessons we couldn’t afford to lose.
It didn’t take long to realize John wasn’t simply a volunteer.
He was part of the organization’s fabric.
John in the brown sweater, celebrating at our volunteer appreciation event in March 2020
Then the pandemic hit.
Almost overnight, we had to reimagine how to support participants in our paid internship program. Their job sites had closed, but they still needed a way to earn an income.
I called John with an idea: What if we moved the program online until it was safe to return? It sounded practical to me but John was always good at pointing out the cons.
We decided that we would make it happen. We had an amazing program director (hey, Jocelynn!) and a desire to lean in while everyone else was tapping out.
An incredible foundation purchased 50 laptops. John helped procure them, set them up, and prepare them for distribution. Then he helped us build and deliver virtual programming so participants could continue learning, working, and earning.
When the work became harder, John leaned in.
He was a steady presence, something that is often missing for leaders in this sector.
He drove us to pick up donations, joined college tours, bought lunches and incentives, and was often among the first to make a financial contribution when the organization needed support. I can’t remember a time that I called and John didn’t pick up the phone.
He never asked for recognition.
He simply showed up.
John and I picking up donations during the thick of the pandemic
Eventually, my time at City Youth Now came to an end. A new Executive Director stepped in.
And something magical happened: John showed up for her exactly as he had for me.
He drove her to pick up donations. He supported fundraising efforts. He offered the same generosity, encouragement, and steady presence.
That experience changed the way I think about nonprofit sustainability.
Too often, supporters become attached to a leader. When that leader leaves, so does the relationship.
But John’s commitment was never to an executive director or board member.
It was to the young people served by the mission.
The organization was simply the vehicle through which he served them.
There’s a difference between loyalty and commitment.
Loyalty is often rooted in a relationship with a person.
Commitment is rooted in a belief in a purpose.
Loyal people may leave when the leader they love moves on.
Committed people stay because the mission is bigger than any one individual.
Over the years, John served under roughly a dozen executive directors. Through every transition, he remained because his commitment never changed.
John, Jasmine (City Youth Now’s current Executive Director), and me. May 2026.
The nonprofit sector benefits from people with influential networks, fundraising experience, and deep community connections. Those supporters play an important role.
I’ve also come to believe that organizations are strengthened by another kind of supporter.
The people who stay.
They carry institutional memory. They provide continuity through leadership transitions. They help new leaders build on what came before instead of starting from scratch.
Imagine how much stronger our organizations could be if we intentionally cultivated both. People who open doors and people who help hold them open. People whose commitment isn’t tied to a particular leader, but to the purpose itself.
John’s legacy extends far beyond the lives he touched directly. It lives in every leader he supported, every transition he helped steady, and every year he chose to keep showing up.
Celebrating Jocelynn’s graduation in 2023
As we celebrate his retirement from public service, I’m also celebrating the impact of his volunteer service.
And I hope his example leaves all of us with a question worth considering:
Am I loyal to a person, or am I committed to a purpose?
Thriving nonprofits need great executive directors and great teams.
They also need people like John Knox.
Leaders will come and go.
But people who are committed to the mission ensure that it can continue to grow.
John, thank you.
Congratulations on your retirement. Your legacy will continue for generations.
A final thought.
People often ask how someone can continue showing up year after year in this work without burning out.
I’ve asked John that question many times.
His answer has always come back to the same thing: the young people.
His commitment has never been driven by recognition, a title, or even the organization itself. It’s rooted in the people he cares about and the future he wants for them.
But I don’t think that’s the whole story.
John has also taught me that sustainable commitment requires boundaries.
He is incredibly generous, but he’s equally comfortable saying no. He knows what he can offer, what he can’t, and when it’s time to step back. When he says yes, he shows up fully. When he says no, it’s because he understands that serving others shouldn’t come at the expense of himself.
I don’t believe passion alone sustains people.
I think purpose, healthy boundaries, and knowing when to say yes all work together to make long-term service possible.
John embodies that balance, and I think that’s another part of his legacy worth celebrating.