Tania Woodward and I work beautifully together, much in the way Sue Silverstein and I work so well together. When I first started working with refugees through a non-profit refugee program in Albany, it was tense – and discouraging – from the beginning.

People like her are the reason we can do the work we do.

I couldn’t make it work and gave up after a couple of years.

The leadership was xenophobic and suspicious, they were happy to take any money from the outside world but made it clear they didn’t want to see me or have me hanging around.

And they sure didn’t want me taking any photos, no matter how much money it brought in. They declined to explain where each donation went.

They do great work for the refugees, they have never been more important,  but it wasn’t a good fit for me. They may have changed, I hope so. The refugees and immigrants urgently need the program.

It’s a new idea for many nonprofits, this idea of openness within limits and humanizing the needy in photos and words so that people can relate to them and want to help them.

You aren’t giving money to some bureaucratic institution, but to Juan or Tsan Lee. You have the right to their story and to know just where the money goes. The idea of Wish Lists – which began as a way to give wedding gifts –  was radical at the time I started suggesting them as a non-profit fund-raising tool,  but it is becoming more widespread.

People feel safe and at ease contributing that way. And there are no middlemen or bureaucracies to absorb the money.

I gave up working with that first group, and no one tried to keep me there. It just felt too uncomfortable. I was clearly not wanted.

But these past few years have proven our instincts were correct. We’ve supported more than 50 Wish Lists for the Mansion and Bishop Maginn, and a list of support too long to repeat here.

I have a smart and compassionate headmaster to also thank for much of our good work.

When I raised money to send eight refugee girls to private schools on full scholarship, I realized that the private schools talked about diversity, but didn’t really want to take it too far.

A headmaster I was working with took me aside and suggested I contact a struggling high school in the middle of Albany, a haven for refugee children called Bishop Maginn.

I think he was also happy to have me pestering somebody else.

I called them and they called me right back and said they would be delighted to work with me. I was transformed into another world.  They needed the help and wanted the help.

And the door opened for me and the Army of Good to start helping out in a new and very powerful way.

The same thing happened to me at the Mansion, where I was greeted warmly and given access (within the limits of Hippa and family and individual choice). Director Kassi Gormley made me feel very much at home and also guided me towards the people who need help and the help they need.

Julie, the former activities director, was eager to work with me and we broke some exciting new ground with more than 25 Amazon Wish Lists that funded garden work, games, puzzles, books, movies, and art supplies. Julie was always responsive and available and we did some great work together.

Once again, I saw the value of working with a single person inside. Julie left the Mansion a few months ago.

And Kassi is very busy, buried under paperwork, and while I am always welcome, I wasn’t 100 percent sure I was hitting all the right targets in the most effective way. I am sure now. Tania makes sure of it.

When she asks for help, I know it’s an urgent matter of genuine need.

We are one of those teams that just click.

Sue Silverstein is another, powerful role model for me and a fiercely supportive advocate for our work. She is the real deal.

She felt like a sister to me from the first, I think of her as my best friend, she describes me in the same way.

She introduced me to the refugee kids,  explained who I was, helped me communicate with them and learn about them, and told me what it was they really needed. She made sure, as Julie did, that I had permission for all of the photographs I take and took, and helped me get help to the people who most need it.

We have paid the tuition of more than a  score of refugee children and bought food, blankets, lamps, soap, toothpaste, schoolbooks, and a hundred other things for them.

The same is true of the Mansion.

I have to be honest and say none of this would have happened without Sue, Kassi, Julie or Tania. You have to have a trusting connection to someone inside the institution who believes in your mission and shares it.

Tania is filling that role for me at the Mansion, at least for now.

The pandemic disrupted everything, but Sue and I became close friends and stayed in touch, and then Tania stepped in to help me rebuild our program. As soon as the dust cleared, I was invited back in and helped raised money for their prom, to the students the most meaningful thing I have done.

Tanis makes sure I schedule my meditation and prayer classes and lets me know when someone needs shoes and can’t afford to buy them. She read the blog, learned of the Bishop Maginn prom, and understand how she could help.

“I could feel their excitement,” she told me, “my parents worked hard to get us what we needed, and of course, I wanted the fanciest dresses and couldn’t have them, they were just so expensive. That’s the reason why I “hoard” them now. I wanted to make sure they have a prom they would never forget and for Sue to have a smile on her face watching them all go through them and try them on.”

I don’t think Tania can get her to wish and see the girls go through the dresses, but I’ll be there soon after and get her some pictures.

I am grateful nobody paid much attention to my mumbling and grunting and very grateful to Tanis for getting us these big bags of beautiful dresses. Tuesday, I will get to see their faces while they see the dresses and respond to them.

When Tania suggested gathering some prom dresses from her past and some of her friends and fellow workers, I kind of groaned inwardly. Really? Gowns? What did I know? I’m a 75-year-old man who had never been to a prom in his life until Bishop Maginn invited me last year.

Tania knew instinctively what I am just learning. This is very important to the girls at Bishop Maginn, and this will be a perfect capper to what is shaping up as a wonderful event.

I learned early on when the Army of Good was launched that most people are eager to do good given a chance. It is not easy to know how, it took me years to figure it out.

There are language issues, legal issues, impendetrable bureaucracies, and utility companies, clogged and often surely civic institutions.

We are figuring that out together. People like Tania and the people out there helping in every way they can are the glue that holds all of this together. They will always do good, given the chance.