Social Justice - Alan Khazei and Vanessa Kirsch

If Alan Khazei ever forgets why he set out to change the world, all he has to do is swivel around in his chair and survey the office wall behind him. There, in a golden frame, hangs a collage of snapshots from a 1995-1996 trip around the world that he and his wife, Vanessa Kirsch, took to meet other social entrepreneurs. The people in those photos believe in the same things that Khazei and Kirsch believe in. They've fought similar battles -- for funding and for survival. And they've prevailed against great odds to reshape their respective corners of society. Included in the collage are Debashis Nayak, an architect in Calcutta who works with communities to preserve ancient landmarks; Ashraf Patel, a young Indian woman who heads a cultural-awareness program to bring Muslims and Hindus together; and dozens more.

Seeing their faces fills Khazei with a renewed sense of purpose. It reassures him not only that he chose the right path but also that he is not alone on that path. "We went on the trip looking for change agents -- people involved in making a difference in all sectors: business, government, and nonprofit organizations," Khazei says. "We found that these were people with whom we shared common values, common desires, and common hopes -- hopes for children, hopes for peace, hopes for what's possible in the 21st century. I came back from the trip even more committed to what we're doing."

Before their nine-month sabbatical, both Khazei and Kirsch had independently built visionary vehicles for social change in the United States. Khazei's brainchild was City Year, a sort of domestic peace corps that he cofounded with law-school buddy Michael Brown in 1988. The program had grown from 50 members in Boston to 1,000 members in 11 cities. Kirsch was no less accomplished. In 1991, she started Public Allies, a thriving national youth-service program based in Washington, DC. Both Kirsch and Khazei were looking for an answer to the question "What's next?" "We knew that what we were doing was extremely important work, but we felt like we were banging our heads against a wall," says Kirsch. "It's so hard to grow something. We thought that by taking a step back, we could ratchet up the work that we were doing -- not only for ourselves and our own organizations but also for the nonprofit sector."

The trip around the world was one leg of a larger journey for both of them -- a journey toward what Kirsch calls "high-impact" social change. "We want to make a big dent in history," she says. Their quest: to create a venture-capital mechanism for the nonprofit world -- a system that would reward creativity and performance in the social sector with funding for growth. They want to help build the next generation of great, sustainable nonprofit enterprises. They aim to define the future for a new generation of social entrepreneurs.

Parallel Universes

In hindsight, it seems inevitable that Khazei's and Kirsch's lives intersected. Both were born into mixed-religion homes: Hers was Jewish and Protestant, his Catholic and Muslim. Both went to colleges in the Boston area -- he to Harvard and she to Tufts. In 1988, she worked on Michael Dukakis's presidential campaign; he worked on Gary Hart's in 1984. And both had parents who inspired them. Kirsch remembers coming home from school to find her artist mother painting. "I loved watching her take a blank canvas and transform it," Kirsch says. "I would often run home from school so that I could paint with her. It gave me a sense of limitless possibility."

Khazei's immigrant father, who came to the United States from Iran, instilled in him the virtues of citizenship. "My father came from a country with a dictatorship, so he appreciated the value of democracy," Khazei says. "He said, 'The United States is the greatest country in the history of the world. It's the only country I could come to as a foreigner and be accepted and raise a family and contribute.' But he also raised me to have a critical eye. We Americans have these ideals that we don't always live up to."

Neither Khazei nor Kirsch knows how to take no for an answer. Shortly after Kirsch launched Public Allies, she got in her car and drove from Washington, DC to Chicago. There she waited outside a hotel to accost a program officer for the MacArthur Foundation. She offered the woman a ride to the airport, and on the way, pleaded her case. They parted with a noncommital "Come and see me the next time you're in Chicago" from the program officer. Weeks later, Kirsch road-tripped to Chicago again and called the woman. This time, Kirsch walked away with her first $25,000 grant. "She thought that Public Allies was extremely entrepreneurial," Kirsch says. "And probably crazy as well."

Kirsch is, by nature, a relentless battler. Dyslexic, she had to fight her way into college. "Everybody told me that I wasn't going to get into the school that I wanted to attend," Kirsch says. "I wrote to Tufts, 'Look, my scores are terrible. But I really want to go to Tufts.' It was a heartfelt letter. I just wanted them to know how badly I wanted to get in -- and I did."