Loving a Life of Purpose

Carpinteria has given Marybeth Carty a lot of joy over the years since she packed up all her belongings from growing up on the New Jersey shore for a cross-country road trip in her faithful Toyota truck in 1978 that landed her almost accidentally in the quaint beach town with an outsized surf culture. 

Carty was drawn to the proximity to the ocean, and the “built-in big backyard” of the beach, met her husband on the sand, and started a family. But if Carpinteria helped her carve out a life on the sand by the blue Pacific, Carty has more than paid back the gift many times over. 

Her early efforts in town over the years began with Lou Grant Parent-Child Workshop (LGPCW) preschool, where her kids were enrolled, and Carty eventually became president of the board. Other Carp-centric organizations include the Carpinteria Children’s Project, the Lynda Fairly Carpinteria Arts Center, Carp Cares for Youth, Hearts of Carp, Carp Education Foundation, and the Carpinteria Triathlon – many of which she either launched, revived, or reshaped. Even her stint in the philanthropic side of the corporate world as community partner manager for Venoco was based in the beachside city. 

Through Carty’s decades in philanthropic service, she’s seen and been a part of almost every sector imaginable, from volunteer to board chair to corporate philanthropy and her current occupation as Executive Director of the Natalie Orfalea Foundation, where her lifelong interest in supporting youth, education, women, and community continues. 

Steven Libowitz: When did you develop the concept of a life of service? 

Marybeth Carty: I think it was originally a healthy dose of Catholic guilt combined with role modeling. My parents were both in the service industry of sorts and helping was a core value in my family. My mother was an obstetrical nurse and my father was in law enforcement. I took it a little further because I was aware of the slippery slope of social justice, and there were issues that felt absolutely glaringly wrong. My mother would come home and talk about the young girls who were having babies out of wedlock, and I’d think, “What support did they have in their choice?” My dad would tell me stories of arrests and instead of being a dutiful daughter, I would say, “What’s the rest of the story? Whose side are you on?” I got involved in the ACLU in high school because of prison reform, and it felt right to offer some kind of assistance. Honestly, my youthful idealism was probably a bit annoying. 

SL: Well, it seems you channeled that energy into a great deal of accomplishments in Carpinteria. How did the preschool springboard your ongoing philanthropic efforts?

MC: Through participation in LGPCW I became a real advocate for kids and public education. My father-in-law (Dr. Bill Carty) was the superintendent of schools in Carpinteria, and I ended up working on behalf of public schools to strengthen them, to engage parents and create programs that were sustainable. Board service came naturally, because once you throw your hat in to help, it’s the next logical step. Then that becomes a calling. It opens up into more opportunities to create change and subsequently, more commitments.

SL: They say all politics are local. For you, it seems, so is all philanthropy. Carpinteria is still at the heart of so much that you do. Is there a nonprofit there that you haven’t been involved in?

MC: Not many. In such a small community it’s much easier to effect change. You travel at the speed of collaboration in a small town but you can get things done. People in the community know and care about each other and the trust factor is pretty pronounced. I helped to start an organization called Carp Cares for Youth in 2006 because even though we’re in south Santa Barbara County, Carpinteria was often underserved. We brought services into the community related to youth development, counseling, and mental health for people who were not able to go outside of town to get them. It was very grassroots. Later, I helped form Compassionate Care for Carp, which was an initiative of Hospice of Santa Barbara, designed to reach families that would not be able to seek out the services that were offered freely to Santa Barbara. We brought them to Carp to meet people where they were, quite literally. 

SL:Can you say a little more about the value of working in your own community? I imagine it’s tremendously rewarding for you. 

MC: The adage “Think globally, act locally” is one of the driving forces behind my ethos. I am grounded in my community. Carpinteria is a microcosm, and there’s a lot of need here. There are a number of organizations that I have started, organizations I’ve joined, and quite a few that I have a leadership position in. You never run out of ways to be involved. I’m a board member of Partners in Education and CADA’s Mentor Program in Santa Barbara and belong to the Women’s Fund, all of whom serve Carp. I’ve also proudly served as a trustee on the Santa Barbara County Board of Education for the past 13 years.

SL: You spent 15 years at Venoco (which operated the Carpinteria Oil and Gas Processing Facility and managed offshore platforms Grace and Gail). That seems on the face of it to be almost an anomaly in terms of switching from nonprofits to the corporate world. But that was also about doing good for the community. 

MC: It definitely wasn’t something I’d ever envisioned. They were a new oil company in town and they reached out to me to help with their corporate community relations and giving department. I said yes because I had so many friends on the other side I honestly thought that I could change the conversation. As a homeowner and a business owner who lived on the beach I knew that there was common ground. Venoco wanted to work on community relations and offered me an office to continue with the mentor program I had started, which I was now fundraising for on my own after the grant sunsetted. We had many matches that weren’t ready to end, and Venoco employees had stepped up to mentor.

I’m so glad I took that leap because while I was there, I was able to work with countless nonprofits in five different regions, including Santa Barbara and Ventura Counties but also Beverly Hills, Sacramento, and Denver where Venoco was based. I learned about nonprofits in all those different communities which was a rich education for me. We forged partnerships, created employee engagement and benefit programs, where employees could trade hours of sweat equity for financial contributions. We had our own little United Way-style internal match where people would donate to their favorite nonprofit and we would match that, which was built into the budget. 

Maybe most rewarding was creating opportunities for employees to get more involved. I took my committee through what I called Philanthropy Bootcamp so they understood how nonprofit organizations operated, and what the fiscal restraints were. Many of those employees ended up getting much more involved in their respective communities, becoming volunteers, board members, and donors, which was my objective. 

I relished the grantmaking aspect, leaning into things I believed were essential to health, human services, education, and the arts. The conundrum was working for a company that was exploiting natural resources yet reinvesting in those communities. Now, at the Natalie Orfalea Foundation for the last eight years, we are on the other side of that coin, because one of our main philanthropic pillars is the environment, conservation, and mitigating climate change.

SL: Which leads into the curiosity that not only are you deeply involved with so many organizations as a volunteer or board member, it’s also your career. How do you find the time and energy?

MC: Some people have hobbies, but this is what I love to do. I get supercharged by the energy of people with great ideas. Whatever struggle I might have to maintain balance is met by adding to my life, not taking those things away. If I ever get into a scarcity mindset, I look at the abundance around us and it feeds me. I like to think that I’m looking ahead even when I’m turning my focus inward, being introspective and assessing life at this juncture. When things don’t make sense anymore, I will walk away. But in the meantime, I’m loving this life of purpose.

SL: On top of that, you’ve raised a family. Have you instilled that love of service and philanthropy in your children?

MC: Absolutely. The kids are involved in service and always have been. My oldest daughter lives in town and she’s the machine behind the school that her children attend, and has her litany of action, her own charities. My son is a green builder in the Bay Area who just recently helped build tiny homes for kids who are being emancipated from the foster care system. He’s doing great work, too. I love watching my two grandchildren turn their attention to helping others. My siblings are absolute superstars, and we love opportunities to work together. 

SL: It’s challenging times for nonprofits in the social sector. What are your thoughts about how to adapt? 

MC:  When things feel like they’re falling apart it’s easy to feel helpless. But that presents an opportunity to build back stronger and better. We’re at an inflection point and if each one of us picked up just one or two of those pieces that have fallen and used our own personal resources of time, talent, and treasure, we really could create something great, a beautiful mosaic that represents everyone. I know it sounds corny, but I really believe that. 

SL: Do you have specific advice to others who are seeking an entry point into service or  philanthropy? Particularly young adults who may not have been raised that way but still want to contribute. 

MC: Stand in the place where you live! I think place-based collective action is one of the most dynamic levers for change. Wherever you live, look around, find out where the needs are and reach out to see what you can do. We can’t just wait for things to happen and wait for the government or the scientists to save us. We have to do that for ourselves. It’s important to become a change agent yourself. We are the heroes we’re waiting for.