There are some people whose presence changes a place long after they leave it. Virginia Lucy, known lovingly to many of us by her chosen Korean name, Yuna (유 나), was one of those people.

I knew Virginia for only a relatively short period of time, but her impact on me was profound. In fact, it was a conversation with Virginia that first made me realize I wanted to be part of this team permanently. She was thoughtful, smart, compassionate, and deeply committed to our mission. As Communications Director, Virginia helped shape how NAPAWF told its story to the world. She brought creativity and passion to our work, helping elevate our mission and the voices of the communities we serve. But her contributions extended far beyond her role. 

Virginia shaped our culture by bringing people together and making everyone she worked with feel valued. Whether offering guidance, lifting up those around her, or simply brightening a room with her presence, she made our team stronger not only because of her talent but because of the way she showed up for others every day, bringing a light to nearly every interaction.

Several people on our team describe Virginia as their biggest supporter. She was the colleague who celebrated your successes as if they were her own and who walked alongside cheering you on through challenges. She had a remarkable ability to see the best in people and encourage them to see it in themselves, often stepping in at exactly the right moment with reassurance or a simple reminder that they belonged. Her kindness was not performative or occasional; it was just who she was. 

One of the things many of us remember most is how much Virginia loved talking about her family. Her love for John and Oliver was unmistakable, and she carried it into every aspect of her life.

The same care, joy, and dedication she brought to her family were evident in the way she showed up for her colleagues, friends, and community every day. 

During strategy discussions and work planning conversations, Virginia would sometimes say that her vision for the future was a world where organizations like NAPAWF would no longer have to fight so hard for basic rights, dignity, and justice, and the work we do would no longer be necessary. “Not that I want us to be unemployed or without jobs,” she would quickly add with a laugh and a grin.

That was Virginia. She understood the challenges before us better than most, but she never let the weight of those realities crush her hope for something better. Her optimism was grounded in a deep belief in people, in community, and in the possibility of a more just world.

Even in our final conversation just weeks before her passing, she radiated that same spirit. She acknowledged the reality of what she was facing while continuing to look toward the future with grace, honesty, and hope. She expressed the sadness she felt about losing her hair for a second time in her life while also describing the joy she felt in building a quirky hat collection. She expressed her ongoing commitment to the mission of NAPAWF while acknowledging that her health precluded her from continuing on as our Director of Communications.  One of her chosen sisters recently shared with me that in her last days the things that Virginia wanted to talk about most were her dog Templeton, her son Oliver, and NAPAWF. 

Virginia’s legacy lives on in the work she helped build, in the people she mentored and in the culture she helped create at NAPAWF.  For many of us, it will also live on in the small things. We’ll make time for a sweet treat, even after a full family-style dinner. We’ll browse one more bookstore while traveling and somehow find a way to carry everything home. We’ll tell the people we love that we love them and hold them a little tighter. We’ll laugh without reservation. We’ll show up with compassion when times are difficult and uncertain. And, like Virginia, we’ll hold onto hope.

I’ve learned in a short time that NAPAWF is a network that shows up for each other in real ways.  John and Oliver, please know that our team will show up for you and with you as you navigate this profound loss.  Oliver, we will continue to tell her story so that you can grow up understanding what a truly incredible advocate and human your mother was.  

Thank you, Virginia. We miss you deeply, we are better for having known you, and we will not forget you.

—

Read more about Virginia Yuna’s life on her family’s online tribute page.