RETOOLING THE JUNIOR LEAGUE

THE 100-YEAR-OLD LADIES CLUB FACES A 21ST-CENTURY IMAGE PROBLEM-AND THINKS ABOUT YOU TUBE By Kimberly Thorpe Together they walk down to the basement, where it's cool but not damp. They gather inside a tight, windowless room, about 10 feet by 10 feet. It's incredibly well lit and comfortable, small but organized. The first set of shelves against the walls hold toddler clothing, the last ones keep the adult clothes. A handful of volunteers from the New York Junior League, an all women volunteer organization created in 1901, are fulfilling their required hours at a family shelter in Harlem. Today, on a weekend morning in February, they are not interacting directly with the women at the shelter: they're organizing donated clothes to be distributed later. They meet inside a brownstone that looks like any other. Most are in jeans and a hunter-green volunteer T-shirt; those who forgot the shirt confess sheepishly, "I'm a total slacker too because I forgot to wear my T-shirt." Conversation flows easily. They speak about light subjects like the weather or restaurants, all the while revealing only tiny bits of information about their personal lives. They have boyfriends or are married; they grew up volunteering at prep schools and colleges. Many were part of similar organizations back home. They joined the New York League mostly because they were new to the city and looking to plug into a familiar social environment. "It's a really great group of girls," says Whitney Rudner, a 29-year-old from Texas, who moved here with her husband and isn't currently employed. She wears her sandy blond hair in a bob that frames her light eyes. "There's lots to get involved in." Another volunteer, also from Texas, agrees. "It's a really great way to meet people," says Lisa Sanders, who is 40. She's been a reporter for the last 17 years and a league member in the city for three. "When I moved here I didn't know anyone." While the media frequently covers the league's periodic attempts to redefine itself, in the last six months, the organization has been under the microscope again. In January, then league president Trisha Duval publicly accused other board members of hiding a $1 million debt. Within the next few days, the league announced the appointment of its next president, Gena Lovett, as the league's first African-American leader. The publicity has, like it or not, once again highlighted two divergent views of the league. For those who join, it's a way to plug into a familiar social and community-oriented network. For people on the outside, the league looks like an exclusive pack of former debutantes who dabble in volunteering. The reality, however, probably lies somewhere in between. And the public's perception may be poised to change yet again as Lovett tries to attract new members and come to grips with the league's financial troubles. The first Junior League was founded 107 years ago by Mary Harriman, the sister of former New York Gov. Averell Harriman and daughter of railroad financer Edward H. Harriman. The mission then, as it is now, was to put good talents to good use. At the turn of the 20th century, the first 80 members, debutantes including Eleanor Roosevelt, worked as health educators for new immigrants living on the Lower East Side. The group has always suggested an upper-class, all-white society. Even today, it remains difficult to use the word "diverse" to refer to the league's membership. At a handful of the league's recent events, members were almost all white. And the cost of volunteering is an annual fee of $425 (New York Cares, another volunteer organization, is free). Over the years, though, the league has grown increasingly focused on diversification. Black Americans began joining in the 1960s, although not with regularity. In 1978, the umbrella organization, the Association of Junior Leagues International, also based in New York, asked local chapters to standardize the admissions policy to circumvent a tendency to only admit people in the same social circles. The kind of volunteer work offered to league members has also gotten grittier. The league became involved in rape-crisis centers, human trafficking and women's rights legislation, like the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA). Today the league sends trained volunteers to prisons, halfway houses and domestic violence shelters. Members with business backgrounds also mentor students, a reflection of the league's changing demographics. As women increasingly joined the workforce over the 20th century, the league became more accommodating. Although at the league's inception hardly any members held jobs, by the late 1980s more than half of the then 163,000 members worked. A lot of the volunteering options were offered after work hours or on the weekends. Today, the league has grown to include 171,000 members, and more than 80 percent hold jobs. In New York, 85 percent of more than 3,000 members work full time. This month, Gena Lovett, 45, became the New York Junior League's first black president. While the public and the media have made a big deal of this fact, she doesn't believe anyone inside the league finds it as shocking. "The media wants to see the league as black or white," Lovett said, over the telephone from her office in Manhattan, where she is a partner of a hedge-fund firm. "No one inside the league sees it that way." But the outside world's belief that the league is a bastion of white homogeny is just another problem Lovett has inherited. Lovett also must deal with the recent financial controversies. The turmoil in the league comes down to a fight between former president Trisha Duval and the rest of the eight-member board. Last November, Duval asked the state attorney general's charities bureau to look into supposed financial misconduct of the league. On Jan. 18, 2008, an independent auditor's report stated that the financial records for 2007-during Duval's tenure as president-were in such disarray that it was impossible to verify or dismiss her claims of fiscal mismanagement. This was the same day that Duval's perspective was featured in the Times, where she appeared as a watchdog for her own organization. The paper called it a "somewhat ugly public airing of dirty laundry at the league." After the article reported the debt accusations, the league's communication department responded in an email to members that was obtained and published by the Times in its blog. The email read, in part, "The New York Junior League remains financially sound. While the Board of Managers is currently addressing a projected budget shortfall for the current fiscal year, we are confident that we will adopt measures to mitigate or eliminate the shortfall using our own resources. At the same time, the board is thoroughly committed to and will not be distracted from achieving our core mission of empowering women and their families." Finances are now in order, according to the league, and a final verdict from the attorney general is expected. Lovett added, during an interview, "There may be a debt, but it's not $1 million." Alongside-and possibly contributing to-the financial problems is the league's struggle to find new members. "I would like to see our member base increase," said Lovett. "I want to see what prevents people from joining the organization." She added that she had already assigned another member to start figuring out the best way to attract more women, perhaps cutting back on the time commitments. Her goal: "I want to be the premier source of volunteer training." Marian Hutchins, program director at the Father's Heart Church, would probably say that the league is already there. Hutchins is working one weekend morning with three new members, as well as volunteers from other organizations, setting down plates of food for a line of homeless men and women. It's pouring rain outside and the volunteers don hairnets and latex gloves for their work. "Junior League are very high functioning volunteers," she says. She compliments them for always being on time and helpful. "That's the Junior League. They go above and beyond. ... We love 'em!" On another evening in February, about 60 new members-called "provisionals"-are attending a new volunteer orientation to learn about many volunteer options. Some involve working directly with the beneficiaries. The event takes place at headquarters of the New York Junior League inside the old Astor mansion. To walk inside the multi-story building at the corner of 80th Street and Lexington Avenue, is to leave, just for a moment, all that is tough about life in the city. Elegance, perfume, nice clothing, wine-it all waits up the banister staircase. The guest speaker is East Side Assembly Member Jonathan Bing. The women lean forward, careful not to spill the contents of the wine glasses they hold in their manicured hands, and listen to him talk about traffic and congestion issues and his support of legal abortion. "Considering the audience you are addressing, if the Equal Rights Amendment were to pass here, what would that do to the all-women Junior League?" asks one young woman. Bing touches his red tie. Many women in the room are young lawyers, so his explanation is brief: no deleterious effect at all on the league, he says. He adds, "I love representing this district. In other districts, when there is a problem, the community will organize a protest. Here, someone will organize a half million dollar fund and get on it in a week." This gets a laugh. League members are between their 20s and late 40s and often cringe when they are asked about the league's exclusive reputation. They seem tired of hearing about it. At the recent annual black-tie event held for league members-a tradition that dates back to 1952, and was even once hosted by Walter Cronkite-members avoided talk about the recent publicity. Although Trisha Duval was listed in the evening's commemorative booklet as the first speaker, she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, a week before the March 1 event, she had quietly resigned. The New York Junior League 56th annual Winter Ball takes place inside Cipriani's stunning banquet hall near Grand Central Station. The evening is pure extravagance, with women in furs and men wearing tuxedos. The dinner is braised ribs and canary-yellow risotto. Real oranges hang from decorative trees throughout the hall, tied on with fishing line by volunteers. A former league president, Mary Beth Tully, taking a break from a fresh crab, cucumber and tomato concasse appetizer, ponders the league's image dilemma. "I think we are just not good at tooting our own horn." Tully now helps train the provisionals. She wants the young members to participate in the promotion of the league as something that empowers women. "This is a place where a young woman can take a risk," she adds. "It's a safe environment." Soo Won Hwang, a good friend of Tully's, wants the league's fun factor to also be acknowledged. She lifts her glass of Pinot and says, "And we know how to party!" At the end of the night, much like at the end of a wedding, the band is long gone, and the DJ is playing hits like "SexyBack," by Justin Timberlake. Many members have cleared out, and mostly the new volunteers are still hanging around and dancing. Lovett has been quiet most of the night. "I go to so many functions where I have to talk the whole time," she says. "These are my good friends. I don't need to talk. Everyone is so excited to get a word in, I can just sit back and listen." Just then, Allison, a 28-year-old new member, comes over to say hello to Tully. Allison explains that she was on the Winter Ball committee and helped tie the oranges to the trees for decoration. She's a perfume marketer for Sean Combs, aka P. Diddy, fragrances. She joined the league because she was new to the city and wanted to plug into a good group, and she says her experience has so far been "awesome." Tully listens proudly to Allison. When the new member leaves, Tully admits that she regularly asks the provisionals to help make the league look cooler to outside eyes. "I say to them," she says, gesturing to all that remains of the gala, "put something on You Tube, so people can see how fun we are."