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Interview with Alina Kovaleva

It is a distinct aesthetic — the aesthetic of care, where beauty expresses itself not in objects, but in actions; where generosity is not an orchestra for one’s own fanfare, but a quiet inner note that builds a hierarchy of values more powerfully than any manifesto.

When we talk about the "taste of life," we too often reduce it to a geography of pleasures — culinary, aesthetic, collectible. But true taste is always connected to measure. To what cannot be bought and cannot be simulated: attention, empathy, the willingness to take on a part of another's pain and transform it into action

— To begin with — briefly, about what matters most. How did you come to charity, and why did it become a system for you, rather than just an episode?

Alina Kovalёva entered systemic philanthropy not from trauma or crisis, but from a clear understanding of her own desires. The family habit of "sharing" evolved into a mature practice; spontaneous gestures of care became daily work. Today, she is the founder of the Skolkovo ESG Club, the founder of the National Social Impact Laboratory NGO, and a member of the board of trustees of the "Life as a Miracle" charity foundation, which helps children with liver diseases. And it’s not only about surgeries and fundraising: it’s diagnostics, medical training, methodology of care and, most importantly, a human ethic where "do no harm" also means "do not impose." The word "system" often appears in her speech, but behind this dry, engineered construct lies a deeply personal energy: the feeling of joy that a specific life has become a little longer, a little calmer, a little brighter.

We speak with Alina about the fashion for charity and why fashion, oddly enough, can be an ally of purpose. About the boundaries of communication and "charity terrorism" that repels, and about the professionalization of NGOs, without which trust cannot grow. About children, who are the first to sense the truth of actions, and about men who prefer to help in silence. About a community where those who are ready to act — with their time, money, or expertise — are equals. And also — about the "taste of life" as an unmistakable experience: when each day begins with a simple "thank you" and the question, "What more can I do today?"

— In my family, helping was always the norm. My great-grandmother, who raised me, did it effortlessly and naturally: she herself had a trauma—she was missing part of an arm—but she helped everyone around her. My parents continued this line: giving, sharing—it was just normal. Perhaps that’s why, since childhood, I had this simple impulse: to feed, to warm, to bring home a stray dog and say, "He'll live with us."

Meanwhile, I was looking at projects with social impact, learning about the impact approach. Conversations with Ruben Vardanyan were particularly inspiring: "Look at what improves the world; what are you ready to join?" I began participating in formats where private initiative turns into systemic help — for example, charity auction meetings. And then a meeting with Yuliana Viner happened: she represented "Life as a Miracle," invited me to meet the team — and I simply fell in love with these people. Their sincerity, professionalism, the joy with which they do their work every day. When I was invited to join the board of trustees, I agreed without hesitation.

Systematic charity came later — around the age of thirty-three. Before that, it was all initiatives "by call": someone called, and you responded. Studying at Skolkovo structured a lot for me: I clarified my core values and realized that helping isn’t an elective—it's part of my profession and my life. In coaching, I worked with Alexandra Pritzker—she now heads the National Federation of Coaches and Mentors, and I serve on its expert board. That conversation also put many things into perspective.

And for me, the human fabric of the foundation is also extremely important. Our fundraising director, Pasha, is pure joy. We joke that we talk on the phone more often than I do with my husband: so many processes, so many reasons to interact. But it’s about being in an environment of like-minded people, where values align. It’s incredibly fulfilling.

— These days, charity is often called a "trend." Is the fashion for good deeds a positive thing or a risk?

— Sometimes the opposite happens — "aggressive" communication: endless mailings, tearful messages, pressure. This pushes people away. Where is the line?

— It's good. Even if a person has an additional motivation—status-seeking, PR-related—it's better than nothing at all. Very often, an entry "following the trend" evolves into deep involvement. Yes, there’s a temptation to call this self-interest. But I’m drawn to the win-win logic: you help and gain something in return—reputational capital, a meaningful agenda for a brand, human joy. The important thing is not to hide kindness, but to show it. I’ve seen the ripple effect work literally so many times: you honestly share why and how you helped—and someone else does the same.

— "Life as a Miracle" isn't only about surgeries. What's fundamentally important to you about this foundation?

— Systematic approach and the ultimate goal. For me, the ideal task of any foundation is to make itself unnecessary one day. That means maximizing early diagnosis, prevention, professional development for doctors, and family support. In our foundation, this is built very concretely: we help children with liver diseases, but we take a broader view—looking at the patient’s journey, providing informational support, and educating regional specialists. When you understand that help begins at the stage of the first symptoms—it changes everything.

Of course, there will always be skeptics: "She does it all out of self-interest." But in my experience, the visibility of charity is not boasting, but a way to multiply these practices. Especially in business. It used to be called CSR departments; today it’s the sustainability agenda, the ESG approach. And yes, it starts with the company’s leadership. If the leader embodies the value of "helping," it becomes embedded in the processes.

— It's a significant problem. Historically, our sector wasn’t built by professional managers, but by caring people. And that’s wonderful in essence and very challenging in terms of processes. NGOs need to professionalize: train leaders, establish standards for communication, feedback, and fundraising ethics. When someone makes a donation and then disappears into a void—no "thank you," no showing where the money went—they stop trusting. When they get "bombarded" in messengers—they shut down.

Now there are strong educational platforms that are cultivating industry culture—including the Moscow School of Professional Philanthropy. I come there as a practitioner and see how the quality of communication changes among graduates. Charity should be on par with professional activity. Polite, transparent, respectful of boundaries. Trust is a form of capital earned through actions and very easily lost.

In our family, we try to turn important events—birthdays, wedding occasions—into opportunities for targeted support for the foundation. We tell guests in advance: "Please, no gifts or flowers—better support our beneficiaries." And every time, I see how involvement grows. The most touching thing is when children make donations. It’s their personal decision, from their own piggy banks. You see how values become their own, not imposed.

— How to engage children and teenagers in an eco-conscious way—so they don’t "burn out" and don’t perceive helping as coercion?

— Often, men help "quietly." They say: "I'm against showcasing good deeds." Is this about modesty or is it a stereotype?

— You mentioned collaborations between businesses and foundations. How can they be made "non-toxic" and yield real results?

— The key is freedom and meaning. A child should have the opportunity to choose the format—to man a stall at a sale, help with sorting, create a mini-campaign at school, record a video, come up with a design. And also—the directness of the result is important: "We did this, and it has a name and a story." When a child sees that their contribution is tangible, they take pride in it—and come back.

— Children and charity. How do you properly "embed" this into culture from an early age—and is it even necessary?

— Yes, it is. And not just through "lectures," but through lively, interactive formats and practices. At my children’s school, for example, there was a course from a foundation on how to treat animals properly, how to help. They came back thrilled: "Mom, we learned this and that!" It’s important to give children the chance to "do it with their own hands": to volunteer at a charity sale, participate in an event, see the result.

— It's both. In my family, my father helped quietly for years—"there's no need to talk about it." And I understand him. But there’s also the power of example. Each of us has a "warm circle"—people who trust us. If you share a practice—honestly, without pretension—it can become an entry point for someone. I call myself an impact influencer: I try to lead by example. And I see how it works. Maybe someone doesn’t use social media—personal conversations remain. The essence is the same: to show that helping is normal and beautiful.

— Mutual agency. A foundation should offer a company a set of clear, proportionate formats—from skills-based volunteering to special projects where the company gets honest PR value, and the foundation gets resources. It’s not about "you owe us a discount," but about transparent agreements. And it’s important that within the business, the ESG approach isn’t an "add-on" but part of its DNA. That’s when natural products emerge: separate waste collection, corporate volunteer hours, charitable initiatives within marketing activities.

— Is charity only about money?

— On "meaning." In the premium segment, there is a distinct shift from "fast luxury" towards what withstands time: heritage, trophy assets, a long-term taste of life. Is charity part of that same logic here?

— What helps you filter out fraudsters and low-quality initiatives? What would you advise those who want to help but are afraid of making a mistake?

— What changed within you when charity became a "primary option," not an "add-on"? Was there a moment you hold in memory as a turning point?

— How do you establish boundaries in the foundation’s communication with donors and partners? What is unacceptable to you?

— Definitely not. Time, expertise, connections—sometimes these are more valuable. Legal consultation for a foundation, accounting support, design, PR—these are real hours from professionals that translate into systemic change. And also—community. In charity, statuses surprisingly level out: a corporate top manager, an entrepreneur, a young specialist—all find themselves on the same side of action. This unites people more powerfully than any team-building exercise.

— Yes. It’s important for people to understand that their money becomes not just things, but a legacy. A painting you pass on to your children—that's one form. A life you’ve extended or made easier—that's another. For me, charity is a very concrete way to answer the question, "What will remain after me?" It’s important to me that each of my projects contains a social component. I’ve restructured my work so that helping is embedded in the processes.

— The main change was energy. I once had a wonderful position at a major corporation—an office, a salary, status. But I caught myself not wanting to go there in the morning. Not because it was bad, but because the meaning had vanished. Charity brought meaning back into my daily life. Now I wake up with a very simple feeling: "Today, I can definitely do something useful." And that drives me incredibly. There are many turning points—and each is deeply personal. Sometimes it’s the story of a child who received a diagnosis in time. Sometimes—the gratitude of a family that simply felt less alone on their journey. These moments accumulate into an internal support: you know why you’re doing all this.

— Asking a foundation for basic documentation and reports is normal practice. Check the website, transparency of communication, team composition, reviews. Clarify how work with beneficiaries is structured, what partnerships exist with clinics, how applications are vetted. Any openness is a sign of maturity. And conversely: vagueness and pushy requests are red flags. Start small: support a project you’re familiar with, volunteer at an event, try "helping with your time." Trust is built fastest through personal involvement.

— An example that particularly inspired you in a partnership between business and a foundation?

— I really love formats where the community is deeply involved: charity sales in partnership with hotels and brands, when people bring items, designers contribute capsule collections, and teenagers come as volunteers and feel for the first time that their participation is real. Or stories where companies allocate hours for their specialists to help foundations with core tasks—legal, financial, technological. You see how such "mixing of competencies" creates an impact that lasts longer than a one-time transfer of funds.

— What does the foundation's name—"Life as a Miracle"—mean to you personally?

— That we ourselves become co-authors of miracles. I sincerely believe: every day is a gift. Morning begins with gratitude—for family, for the team, for the opportunity to do work that fulfills you. Miracles aren’t only "incredible coincidences," although they do happen: when what’s planned suddenly falls into place faster than you could articulate it. Miracles are a child diagnosed in time. A doctor who received the right training. A family that felt there were people beside them. And if we can join in that—that is the taste of life.

— And finally—what would you say to someone who has been "meaning to" for a long time but keeps putting off that first step?

— Take a small step today. Transfer an amount you can afford to a foundation you understand. Write about what you can offer professionally. Come to an event as a volunteer. Choose a format that resonates with you. And see how you feel. It’s very likely you’ll discover that quiet, very steady feeling: "Yes, this is for me." And from there, everything will only expand.

— To put it briefly: what does the "taste of life" look like for you today?

— It's a feeling of measure and meaning. A taste that cannot be faked. When beauty isn’t about sparkle, but about relationship. When you share not "from surplus," but because that’s how your heart and your daily order are structured. When in any project—business, family, creative—there is room for another person. And when your internal compass is simple: "By helping someone, I help myself become better every day."

— Is there competition between foundations? And is it needed?

— I'm closer to the logic of synergy. We often organize joint events and support colleagues' initiatives. The overall result only grows from this. Competition in this sphere has a very low ceiling: it quickly drains the meaning, reducing charity to a race for "numbers in a report." Where people are willing to unite, the impact is significantly higher. And this, too, is part of the "taste of life": the ability to rejoice in another’s success and amplify it with your own.

— You often say "community." How do you build it—in a big city where everyone is in a hurry?

— Through specificity and regularity. Clear points of meeting and action are needed: events, volunteer hour clubs, closed conversations with doctors and experts. "Ambassadors" are needed—people whose word carries weight in their circles. And beauty is needed. I’m serious: charity doesn’t have to be about "gray stockings." Its aesthetic lies in dignity, respect for the person, in normal language and warm rituals. When things are well-organized and beautiful—people are more willing to come and stay.

— Pressure. Manipulation. Lack of feedback. Those are the three red zones. We must respect a person’s time and attention. Our task is to inform, not to "assault." To thank. To show results. And, of course, to build long-term relationships. The highest standard is when someone returns on their own. Not because they were "reminded," but because they enjoyed being involved and saw the impact.

Author: Anastasia Kremleva