For as long as I can remember, giving back has been a core part of who I am. It’s not about recognition or prestige—it’s about believing in the possibility of someone else’s future and doing my part to help it unfold.
For many years, I sponsored children in the Philippines through Children International. Each letter, each photo, each update reminded me of the real lives impacted by consistent, personal support. I cherished those relationships. But due to financial hardship, I had to make the painful decision to stop. That choice still weighs heavily on me, not because I regret helping, but because I couldn’t keep going the way I had hoped.
Even as my own circumstances shifted, my desire to invest in the next generation never faded. That’s why I launched a local scholarship for high school students in the U-46 School District. I started it before I was let go from my student teaching position. At first, I assumed it would be a one-time gift—my final gesture before moving on. But the students changed that for me.
Despite everything, I do not blame the students for what happened. I am frustrated with the district and its decision-making, but my heart still lies with the young people I had the privilege of working with. Their dreams, struggles, and resilience moved me. They deserve opportunities to thrive, and I still want to be part of that.
So, I made a decision: I would continue the scholarship, even if it meant asking for help. Due to my financial constraints, I’ve launched a fundraiser to sustain the scholarship through Bold.org. If you believe in education, equity, and giving students a chance to succeed, I invite you to contribute:
👉 bold.org/funds/katherine-walter-anthropology-scholarship-fundraiser/
This fund supports high school students with a passion for anthropology and the social sciences—fields that help us understand each other more deeply and build a more just world. Supporting this scholarship is an act of hope in a time when many feel hopeless.
Philanthropy isn’t just something you do when you’re comfortable. Sometimes, it’s something you keep doing even when it hurts—because you know what it means to be on the edge and still reach out a hand.
Thank you for walking this path with me.