What one fundraiser taught us about leadership, kindness and how to show up
Our friend and mentor Ken Mayhew died on March 2, 2026.
Ken faced the end of his life the same way he lived it—with grace, humility and intention. In his final months, he made the most of the time he had, spending it with the people he loved, walking outdoors, staying deeply connected to family and friends, and continuing to give of himself to the fundraising profession and the causes he cared so deeply about. Even while living with illness, his energy still exceeded that of the average person. That was Ken.
We both had the privilege of working closely with Ken during some of the most formative years of AFP Canada. Alongside Scott Decksheimer, AFP Canada’s first chair, and an extraordinary group of volunteers and staff, we helped build something that none of us could have done alone. We often joked that we were building the plane while flying it—guided by passion, purpose, and a deep belief in the fundraising profession. Those years spanned the COVID19 pandemic, when leadership roles became far more than volunteer positions. They were, in truth, fulltime jobs layered on top of already full lives.
And yet, none of us ever heard Ken complain. In fact, he seemed to have endless energy for his AFP work, including when he served in the challenging role of chair during the pandemic. He met obstacles the way he met everything—thoughtfully, calmly, and with a steady belief that there was a better way forward. Every minute of every meeting Ken chaired was spent doing the work. He listened carefully, asked hard questions, and chewed thoughtfully on complex problems. He persevered, always focused on solutions rather than problems. He wanted to get it right.
Despite leading a major hospital foundation, and being a devoted husband and father, Ken was always there when he was needed. (We often wondered if he ever slept!) His life was full—of work, learning, and people—and he showed up to it all with humour and heart. He remembered names. He followed up. He noticed when someone was quiet and made room for them to contribute.

Ken had a wonderful way of poking fun at himself. His selfdeprecating humour only added to his his charm. He could joke about his own faults, but he never spoke harshly about others—ever. Meetings with Ken were serious, thoughtful and purposeful—but they were also full of laughter. He believed deeply in the work, and he believed just as deeply in joy. That was Ken.
He lived with intention—toward the fundraising profession, and toward learning. Podcasts filled long drives. Books were always on the go. He was curious, actively listened, and was always seeking new ideas and better ways of doing things. Ken was also a natural mentor—and just as importantly, someone who was easy to mentor. He actively sought feedback, genuinely wanting to be better. He made space for others and believed that leadership was not about having the answers, but about creating the conditions for better ones to emerge.
In his final months, Ken told many of us how great we were. He told us how we had helped change him for the better. He told us he loved us. Not everyone does that. Even while dealing with serious illness, he continued—almost instinctively—to carve out space for others, offering kind words and gentle levity in the midst of a deeply grave situation. It was extraordinary. And yet, for Ken, it felt entirely natural.
Ken did so much—for his family, his friends, the charities he served, and the fundraising profession he loved. But just as importantly, he made people feel great. He made people feel heard, seen, valued, supported, and genuinely cared for. As we read the many tributes pouring in, we are struck by how many people Ken readily called friends—especially in a professional world where that word is often used sparingly, if at all. He meant it. And it meant something.
Our shared vow is simple: to be “more Ken”. We will fall short. But we will keep trying. For us, that means being genuine—showing up for others with ideas, kindness, laughter, gratitude and courage—and knowing how to do even the hard things with grace.
The world needs more Ken.
Paula Attfield is CEO of ST (Stephen Thomas Ltd.), a marketing and fundraising agency serving the nonprofit sector. She is a committed sector volunteer and was fortunate to count Ken as a friend.
Lisa Davey served as the vice president of AFP Canada from 2018 to 2025. She worked closely with Ken during that time and considered him a dear friend.





