Everyone’s a Philanthropist — You Just Don’t Realize It Yet

By Lihi Maine

Most people hear the word philanthropy and immediately disqualify themselves. They picture enormous checks, fancy dinners, or names on buildings—and assume it’s not meant for them.

Kary Alterman is here to say that’s wrong.

For more than twenty years, Mrs. Alterman has worked in fundraising and leadership development. For the past decade, she has directed $20–30 million annually into Jewish causes through the William Davidson Foundation. She has funded initiatives across Israel and the global Jewish community—and she believes everyone is already a philanthropist.

“Philanthropy is not just about how much you have, but how intentionally you give,” she explains.

Her understanding of legacy is rooted in personal history. Her father was a Holocaust survivor, her mother a Detroiter. Growing up, she absorbed the idea that Jewish life exists in a chain: honoring those who came before, serving those present, and caring for those who will inherit what we build. This principle informs her professional life.

Too often, she says, people think philanthropy starts when you “make it.” In reality, it begins the first time you put tzedakah in a box, volunteer your time, share your skills, or support a meaningful cause. “Not everybody can give everything, but everybody can give something,” she says.

Mrs. Alterman often emphasizes three ways to give: time, talent, treasure. Money is only one part of the equation. She guides individuals and families not toward specific causes but toward alignment—helping them understand what they value and how giving can reflect who they are.

“The question isn’t ‘how much should I give,’ but ‘what story am I telling with what I have?’” she explains.

For some, that story is written in dollars. For others, it’s in time—showing up consistently, serving on boards, mentoring youth. The size of the contribution matters far less than the intention behind it. This is how legacy is built.

This philosophy reframes philanthropy as an ongoing practice rather than a single act. Mrs. Alterman’s goal isn’t to direct money to the most prestigious causes, but to help people discover what genuinely moves them—and sustain that aspiration over time.

She also challenges the notion that philanthropy should exist separately from business. The same skills that build successful enterprises—strategic thinking, accountability, and vision—can amplify giving. When Jewish values meet business principles, philanthropy becomes far more impactful.

Ultimately, Mrs. Alterman’s message is grounding: we inherit a world shaped by those before us, and we are responsible for leaving a world shaped by ethical choices. Philanthropy is one of the ways we acknowledge that truth.

The story is already being written. The only question is whether we are paying attention.