What Running a Cancer Nonprofit Taught Me About Serving Professionals

When people hear I went from running a cancer nonprofit to leading a premium flex office company, I get the same reaction every time: “That’s… a big switch.”

And on the surface, it is. But if you peel back the layers, the two worlds aren’t as different as they seem. At their core, both are about serving people with urgency, empathy, and intentionality.

Nonprofit Roots, Business Backbone

For nearly a decade, I helped build and scale Stupid Cancer, an organization focused on young adults affected by cancer. Our mission was personal, raw, and direct: make sure no one goes through cancer alone. We did that through education, community, digital innovation, and advocacy.

The stakes were always high. When you're supporting people in the hardest chapter of their lives, every interaction matters. We weren’t just building programs—we were building trust. The same principle applies in the business world, especially when your “product” is a place professionals choose to work, meet, and grow.

Lesson #1: People Don’t Buy Products—They Join Communities

At Stupid Cancer, people didn’t just attend events or use our tools—they connected with a community. We built spaces—both digital and physical—where young adults affected by cancer felt seen, supported, and understood. That sense of belonging was everything. It turned one-time participants into lifelong advocates.

I’ve carried that same focus on community into my work in flexible office space. At Firmspace, our members aren’t just leasing offices—they’re joining a professional environment that values privacy, productivity, and connection. We’re building more than square footage; we’re building trust and a shared sense of purpose among people doing serious work.

Whether you’re navigating a personal challenge or growing a business, there’s something powerful about knowing you’re part of a space that supports you—not just functionally, but emotionally too. People remember how a place makes them feel, and that feeling often stems from the culture and community around them.

Lesson #2: Details Are Everything

In nonprofits, resources are tight, but expectations are sky-high. You're constantly juggling limited budgets, small teams, and urgent needs. And yet, the people you're serving—patients, survivors, caregivers—are expecting an experience that feels personal, professional, and deeply supportive. That gap between what you have and what’s expected becomes your creative playground. You learn to stretch every dollar, systematize every process, and spot problems before they become visible.

That mindset didn’t stay behind when I left the nonprofit world—it became my secret weapon.

In the world of flex office space, there’s a similar tension. Professionals walk into our buildings with high expectations, spoken or not. They may not ask for fresh flowers in the lobby or perfectly aligned furniture, but they notice when it’s missing. They won’t always complain if the coffee is slightly cold or the conference room remote is missing, but they’ll remember it the next time they decide whether to invite a client in or take a Zoom at home.

From the cleanliness of a kitchen to the reliability of a conference room TV, every touchpoint matters. That level of precision isn’t about being obsessive—it’s about respect. Respect for the work our members are trying to do, the meetings they need to lead, and the moments that might define their careers.

What I learned in the nonprofit world is that people often make decisions based on how something made them feel, not just what it delivered. It’s emotional. It’s subconscious. It’s human. Whether someone is choosing a cancer support group or a workspace, they're evaluating trust, safety, and care—often without realizing it.

The details aren’t “nice to have.” They’re the whole thing.

Lesson #3: Mission Isn’t Just for Nonprofits

One of the biggest misconceptions I’ve encountered is that only nonprofits have a “mission.” In reality, the most effective businesses I’ve seen are driven by something deeper than revenue. They know their purpose. They stand for something.

At Stupid Cancer, our mission was clear: help young adults impacted by cancer feel less alone. Every decision we made was filtered through that lens—whether it was designing a mobile app, planning a road trip, or hosting a conference. The work felt urgent, but more than that, it felt aligned.

That same clarity of purpose is what I now strive for in the private sector. At Firmspace, our mission is to empower professionals to thrive by providing a distraction-free, high-integrity workspace built for focus, not chaos. We're not just selling office space—we're protecting people’s time, headspace, and ability to perform at their best.

I didn’t pivot away from impact. I pivoted toward a different kind of it. Helping someone get one more hour of deep work, land a big client, or simply feel in control of their day? That matters too. It may not look like traditional advocacy, but the intention—to support, to elevate, to serve—is the same. I am lucky to work with a team that gets this and brings their A game every day.

Different Sector, Same Soul

My time in the nonprofit world shaped how I lead—through empathy, integrity, and a clear sense of purpose. Those values didn’t fade when I moved into commercial real estate. If anything, they became even more important.

I used to stand on stages rallying communities to support young adults with cancer. Today, I walk office floors, building environments where professionals can focus, thrive, and feel supported in quieter, more personal ways. The setting changed—but the mission-driven mindset didn’t.

Over the years, I’ve come to believe that impact looks different at different stages of your life. When you’re younger—or just starting out—you often give what you have: your time, your energy, your blood, sweat, and tears. That was my story in the early nonprofit days. But as your career evolves, so does your capacity to contribute. Maybe you serve on a board. Maybe you write checks. Maybe you help build the kind of company that quietly supports hundreds of others doing meaningful work every day.

Impact doesn’t disappear—it shifts. And if you stay connected to your values, you can keep making a difference, no matter what sector you’re in.

Working in the private sector has only reinforced a belief I’ve carried for years: every industry needs what the nonprofit world does best. We need to listen—really listen—to the people we serve. We need to care deeply, not just about outcomes, but about experience. And we need to deliver thoughtfully, with intention behind every detail.

Because whether you're building community for patients or professionals, people remember how you made them feel. And for me, that’s always been the heart of the work.

P.S.
At 15, I was stocking shelves and counting pills behind the counter at Islip Pharmacy—just a kid behind the register trying to make a small difference in my community. I didn’t have money, power, or a title. But I had the desire to help people, and that was enough to get started.

Looking back, that moment wasn’t just the beginning of a job—it was the foundation of everything. That instinct to serve, to pay attention, to care about the person in front of me—it’s shown up in every chapter of my career, from cancer advocacy to commercial real estate.

The settings may change. The tools may evolve. But that 15-year-old kid is still at the heart of it all.