I joyfully lead the Center’s communications strategy and public relations, as well as oversee our online and print content—from blogs to billboards, from press releases to podcasts.

Throughout my professional journey within international aid, philanthropy, and advocacy circles, I have considered myself a student of influence—how decisions are made, how community is built, and how power is shifted. Prior to joining the Center, I was an independent consultant, leadership coach, and facilitator who worked to usher in political courage, cultural humility, and an ethic of care within teams, organizations, and the social good sector writ large. I am the creator of the blog how-matters.org and co-editor of a book, "Smart Risks: How small grants are helping to solve some of the world’s biggest problems," which features the growing community of grantmakers who find and fund visionary, yet under-the-radar community leaders around the world.

My people are people of the horizon, the 360-degree view. They are the people of four seasons and four-part harmony. We are resolute, resourceful, and stubborn descendants of German settler farmers in south central Nebraska, who benefited from the Homestead Act to occupy stolen land from the Pawnee people. Given that my hometown of Bruning, Nebraska, has a population of fewer than 300 people, it’s no wonder that I found a calling in helping people to build and thrive in community. My chosen kin are people who give a damn, who extend care to others in myriad ways.

I returned to my home state in 2021 after living in Harare, Detroit, Pittsburgh, Windhoek, Lilongwe, Santa Cruz, Santa Fe, and the past 10 years in Washington, D.C. Today, I live near where the Missouri River flows into Omaha with my partner, Denise, and our chihuahua, Betty.

Q&A

What's something surprising about you that most people don't know?

I was once named one of Foreign Policy Magazine’s “100 women to follow on Twitter.”

But I was really always a poet. The day I understood that was when my Fredricks cousins asked me to write a poem about my grandfather Virgil that we read at his funeral in Glenvil, Nebraska, in 2012.

Grandpa’s Hands
By Jennifer Lentfer

Grandpa’s large, leathery hands were good for many things.
Holding the hymnal as his big bass voice sings.
Moving so fast to milk cows or pick corn.
Or holding us all on the days we were born.

With John Philip Sousa, he played the clarinet.
Folded for doxology when the table was set.
Casting fishing rods in pursuit of a bullhead.
Rarely holding back his opinions, he said.

His big hands would reign in Lady’s bridle.
Carpentry or crosswords, his hands were rarely idle.
Helping out on the farm, his retirement hardly for rest.
Holding a hand of cards, his was always the best.

Grandpa always put on his bolo with style.
As a kid, you’d pull your hand from his pile.
Grab his hands, climb up, a flip, and you’re fine.
But what I’ll always remember is … his hands holding mine.

What is one of your pet peeves?

Actions or sentiments that are based on “...because that’s the way we’ve always done it.” 

What is one piece of advice you have never forgotten?

During our intro class in graduate school, the professor shared this piece of wisdom that has stuck with me: “You may not ever entirely know if you’re doing [the work] right, but if you’re not questioning, you are most certainly doing it wrong.”