This past August, our nation celebrated the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington, an event at which the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. made his famous “I Have a Dream” speech at the Lincoln Memorial.

Fifty years later, our country continues to dialogue about diversity, inclusion, social justice and advocacy issues. Leading up to the anniversary of the March on Washington, many of those who gave their lives for the cause, as well as those who continue the struggle today, were profiled in countless magazine articles and on websites, social media and television.

I want to focus this column on two people who had an impact on my thinking and heightened my appreciation for those who have worked to make this a more compassionate and inclusive society. Many of you know the name Thelma Daley. She has served in many leadership positions in ACA, including as our organization’s president in 1975-1976. Thelma has distinguished herself as a leader in the profession and for the doors she opened for so many who entered leadership after (and, in some cases, because of) her.

What some are not aware of is Thelma’s role during the civil rights movement of the 1960s. Thelma was one of the people profiled in a recent Washington Post article about women’s roles before, during and after the historic March on Washington. In addition, she wrote an essay that appeared in USA Today reflecting on what the march meant to her. During my more than 20 years with ACA, I have seen personally how Thelma mentors and guides others — especially those for whom the door to serving in leadership might have been closed in the past. Thelma represents someone who lives her passion and has maintained her dedication to a cause that is so meaningful in her life.

I also want you to know about someone else who, much like Thelma Daley, was unassuming in his actions but passionate about the work of civil rights and social justice. Franklin Fung Chow was a civil servant who was born and raised in San Francisco’s Chinatown community. He eventually moved to Washington, D.C., and worked for the Office of Civil Rights and the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission for many years. Whenever an Asian Pacific American moved from California to Washington, they were almost sure to run into Franklin. Then he would end up inviting them to his small apartment for a home-cooked meal. While he reminisced about life in San Francisco and whipped up one of his famous Chinese meals, one would also realize how passionate he was about civil rights issues.

I remember how, during a public event acknowledging the struggles of the civil rights movement, Franklin’s voice cracked and he shed tears as he retold the story of the racially motivated bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Ala., that killed four African American girls in 1963. He was that kind of person — someone whose compassion for his fellow human beings came through in his generosity, his genuineness and his optimism that if we all worked together, tomorrow really could be better.

When I heard that Franklin succumbed to leukemia last year, I was of course saddened to learn of his passing, but I was also thankful that I had the honor and opportunity of knowing him. People come into and out of our lives. Some we know for only a few fleeting moments, but they are still able to make such a profound impact. I encourage you to think about some of the people who have had that effect on you. It will brighten your day.

As always, I look forward to your comments, questions and thoughts. Feel free to contact me at 800.347.6647 ext. 231 or via email at ryep@counseling.org. You can also follow me on Twitter: @RichYep.

Be well.