The Second Time Around
In her return tenancy at DAP Health, Chief Strategy Officer Brande Orr has one immediate goal — purposefully mapping out the nonprofit’s future.
Words by Kay Kudukis
As a kid, Brande Orr practically lived in her grandmother’s backyard. In a massive treehouse nestled within one of the biggest maple’s highest, strongest branches, she’d spend hours with her younger brother Cody. “It was covered by leaves, and it was big enough to have eight kids up there,” she recalls. “From that vantage point, you could see over the houses and imagine a bigger world.”
Not surprisingly, decades later, Orr is an avid believer in the healing properties of forest bathing, her favorite spots being along the Kumano Kodo in Japan.
Suitland, Maryland, where Orr grew up, is a congested urban town a mile southeast of Washington, D.C. Dad taught history before becoming a high school principal. Mom taught kids living with disabilities. The family simmered in generational trauma — poverty, alcoholism, abuse — though camping trips, beach days, visits to the Smithsonian Institution, and activities like a pen pal in Zimbabwe balanced the mysteries of why. Orr also played sports through college, this despite critical knee and back injuries.
“I wasn’t very good at any of them,” she admits. “But I’m a really great cheerleader. I often won the unsung hero award, and you rarely cut the kid who’s an optimist!”
Growing Up on the Move and on the Rise
At a most awkward stage of life — 8th grade — the family relocated to Annapolis, where Orr attended high school. “Pretty posh compared to where we were,” she recalls. It’s here that Orr had to rapidly wrestle with understanding racial discrimination. In her previous neighborhood and school, while among the racial minority, she was just becoming old enough to sense the privilege her skin color bestowed regardless of socioeconomic status.
Asking these questions led to more exploration into injustice and activism. She debated for animal welfare, the right to peaceful protest, recognition of diverse faiths and worldviews, and death with dignity movements as early as high school, and continues to do so in her personal life today.
These experiences equipped Orr to be adaptable, forgiving, curious, deliberate, calm in chaos, and admittedly an overthinker. Which is distinct from being a risktaker, she notes: “I didn’t get my driver’s license until I was nearly 21.”
She also promised herself to find work environments where a sense of camaraderie — a commitment to mission — provided common ground and a second family. With undergraduate degrees in history and French, Orr worked at two museums — but she realized this nonprofit sector had limitations.
Diversity, Equity, Belonging, Inclusion
The desire to foster what we now call diversity, equity, belonging, and inclusion (DEBI) led her to create culturally inclusive American history resources at Primary Source, a Massachusetts nonprofit that works to advance global education in schools. “We wrote textbooks on Chinese American history, and Native American history, that would complement K-12 teaching requirements,” she says. “I worked on the African American history project.” It was there she met her late mentor, lifelong educator Clara Hicks, and adopted Clara’s mantra: “Keep on, keepin’ on.”
By then Orr knew she wanted to see the West Coast, and applied for scholarships to earn a master’s degree at only California programs, deciding on Pepperdine University, where her grandfather attended on the GI Bill after WWII. She left her best friends in exchange for the adventure, but upon arriving, found the only other person pursuing their MBA to serve the nonprofit community: a guy named David Brinkman, whose career path led him to the CEO seat at DAP Health, which he has occupied for 17 years. Commonality crafted a close comradeship between Brinkman and Orr. But more on that in a bit.
When she graduated, Orr took a position at a center serving teen moms and dads back in Boston. “We had an amazing program with housing and school, but we also taught job skills, parenting skills, and health care.” A year later, the phone rang. It was Brinkman, who was now executive director at My Friend’s Place, a nonprofit dedicated to serving unhoused youth in Los Angeles. Would Orr consider coming to work with him as director of development? It was an immediate “Yes.”
It was a small organization, so they rolled up their sleeves with the most amazing colleagues and put on all the hats: fundraising, leadership, communications, finance, community relations, facilities (plunging toilets and painting over graffiti fell under “other duties as assigned”). “Because MFP was so small, and we were meeting emergent needs of terribly misunderstood, stigmatized, and marginalized human beings,” admits Orr, “it was a sobering opportunity to understand the breadth of nonprofit management and the chops required to weather the blood, sweat, and tears.” The most exciting times were chances to meet new needs. Orr’s most memorable moment was the first day the center opened on the weekends.
Successful Leaders Enlist Highly Qualified People
Orr is admittedly a little uncomfortable about the optics of her history with Brinkman, but leans in and shares the story. Now nearly 30 years into a nonprofit career, she accepts the truth — that successful leaders surround themselves with highly qualified people who bring value to their organization, an obvious testament to her considerable talents. And at this point in the story, Orr’s eyes get big and she says, “It gets worse.”
Brinkman had several childhood friends who would visit him in L.A. The trade-off was they would volunteer for the nonprofit’s events. One such friend was an artist named Dan. Four years later, Orr married him, and followed love to Iowa. She credits her spouse with introducing her to three more loves: salt, Star Trek, and sumo.
The next work years found Orr honing expanded skills with a wide spectrum of stakeholders at the University of Northern Iowa, Cedar Valley Hospice, and Allen Health System. Again, strategic activities like helping to offer free colorectal cancer services and launch a nursing pipeline program for high school students from low-income families kept Orr looking forward. That’s when the phone rang again. You guessed it: Brinkman. With yet another invitation to apply for an opening.
Starting at Desert AIDS Project
Orr was hired as director of grants at Desert AIDS Project (as DAP Health was then known). With tandem interim stints as director of quality assurance, and director of programs, Orr led DAP Health’s pursuit of FQHC status to open the doors wider. This milestone extended the legacy of the organization’s founders to more community members.
She happily thrived there for over nine years, finishing out her tenure by serving as director of strategic initiatives. And then, the phone rang yet again. This time? Not Brinkman. Dad. Mom had Alzheimer’s, and it was time for a radical plan of care. So, Orr and Dan, and Mom and Dad, all moved to the Midwest, closer to more affordable dementia services. After Mom and the pandemic passed, Orr worked for Interfaith America before Brinkman came calling one last time.
Returning to DAP Health
Following DAP Health’s overnight expansion, having acquired the Borrego Health system, would Orr consider applying to become the integrated organization’s chief strategy officer, leading the charge into what is sure to be a promising future? Why, indeed, she would!
Almost a year later, Orr couldn’t be more excited about DAP Health’s mission. She feels drawn to the organizational culture by the conviction that access to affordable, compassionate health care can inspire and inform solutions to inequity, suffering, and conflict of all kinds. The labor of love means even more as an aunt to four nephews who will inherit the world she leaves behind.
“I love this work,” she says. “I love looking at what the needs are, what every possible solution is, and then narrowing that down through all the different types of lenses and criteria to figure out how we’re going to have the biggest impact.”
Hold all calls, please. Orr is finally home for good.