Philanthropy and business leader Piya Saliba has a message for anyone considering a new charitable commitment: the question is not whether the cause matters, but whether you are the right person to help it right now. Saliba, who leads Fountain Capital and volunteers with the Nalin and Naseeb Foundation and the Cedars-Sinai NICU Parent Council, says most people decide based on emotion rather than fit. That, she argues, leads to wasted effort and quiet burnout.
Saliba's first question is deceptively simple: what do I actually bring? She notes that people often ask if a cause matters, but almost every cause matters. The real issue is whether an individual has something specific to contribute, whether time, money, a skill, a network, or a story. She recalls sitting in rooms where everyone cared and nobody could say what they were there to do. Caring gets you in the door, she says, but it does not tell you what to do once you are inside. Her own background, split between Indonesia and Singapore and exposed to both a family furniture business and the arts, taught her that naming your own value clearly is more useful than general enthusiasm.
The second question concerns cost and its location. Every commitment has a cost, but Saliba says the cost that trips people up is rarely money. It is attention. You can budget money, she explains, but you cannot budget attention the same way because it leaks out of whatever you are not looking at. She advises asking which part of life will quietly shrink to make room, whether sleep, a hobby, family time, or a slower version of work. Naming the cost in advance does not remove it, but it prevents the surprise that often arrives six months into a new commitment.
The third question is whether the commitment fits what you already know. Saliba's own choices track closely to her existing knowledge. Her work with the Cedars-Sinai NICU Parent Council draws on her experience with families in vulnerable moments, and her involvement with the Nalin and Naseeb Foundation reflects causes close to her. She says she did not pick these because they were the biggest needs out there, but because she had something specific to offer based on what she had already lived through or already knew. This question, she argues, filters out well-meaning but poorly matched commitments. A person can be moved by a cause and still lack the specific footing to help it well.
The fourth and final question is the plainest: can I keep showing up? Not can I say yes today, but can I still say yes to this in a year. Nonprofits rely on people who stay, and a one-time burst of energy helps less than steady, smaller involvement over time. Saliba says she would rather commit to less and sustain it than take on more and quietly fade out. Consistency, she says, is its own form of respect because it tells the people and the cause that you meant it.
Saliba still makes room for the arts in her own life, including singing, acting, and dance, alongside her work and volunteer commitments. She sees that balance as a small daily version of the same question: what can I actually sustain, and where does it belong. Her framework offers a practical alternative to impulse-driven philanthropy, one that prioritizes fit, attention, and longevity over momentary passion. For nonprofits and donors alike, the implication is clear: better matching leads to stronger, more durable support.
