So...I Started a Nonprofit

When I imagined launching a foundation in memory of my brother, I had one simple thought: raise money for individuals and organizations who could carry forward what Bon dedicated most of his life to. It felt like the truest way to honor him—by creating something that carries his name and spirit forward.

I started off thinking the first thing I needed to do was research. I had so many questions: How do you start a nonprofit? Why do you need 501(c)(3)? What paperwork do we need to make this official? Then I started thinking about colors, logos and websites. I even Googled “Top 10 Nonprofit Websites” just to see what worked and what didn’t. I dove headfirst into details - digging through every resource I could find, trying to piece together what came next. I started reaching out to friends, former Barangay dancers, Bon's choir family -- people I knew in my heart who wanted this to succeed just as much as I did. I had long conversations with a few - about Bon, about the vision, about what this could become. They were what Karina (friend and former Barangay dancer) calls “voices of reason” -- steady, thoughtful, grounding.  And I really needed to hear those voices. They were my cheerleaders as well as my reality checks. I needed honesty and they gave itl.

As I kept researching and days passed, my to-do list kept growing… then growing even more… until it started to feel less like a list and more like a living, breathing thing demanding full attention. Somewhere in the middle of it all, I started losing focus. My creative brain kept drifting into all kinds of possibilities beyond just scholarships. Ideas started bubbling up about what this foundation could really be. Not just a funding source but a community that thrived on helping and giving space for growth and exploration.

Then I started thinking about Bon -- really thinking about what he gave, what he built, what he shared. I found myself remembering the things he loved and one thing he truly loved was singing. And what some people may not know is that he sang beautifully. One of my clearest memories from childhood is pressing my ear to the bathroom door, listening to him belt out a song while showering. I clearly remember hearing "Ave Maria" and "Hark! How the Bells." Because of him, I know every word to Hark! How the Bells. Because of him, I have a lifelong fondness for Ave Maria. Singing was such a huge part of who he was -- and I realized, if we’re going to honor him fully, we have to find a way to include that in the foundation. And I think I’ve found a way. It’s an idea that’s been quietly taking shape in my mind, and with a little time -- and a lot of heart -- I’m hoping it becomes what I believe it can..

So it all circles back to this question: To honor Bon, what if we created a space filled with music, dance, creativity, culture, and connection. Something welcoming. Something joyful. Something similar to what he gave us. Something that would carry his spirit. What if we created it in the same community he knew so well?

Of course, the more I dreamed, the longer my to-do list became. I was everywhere—excited, inspired, overwhelmed. I had to refocus, come back to center, and stay grounded in what mattered most. The first priorities were clear: file the Articles of Incorporation and get the foundation’s EIN number -- both essential steps to begin the process of applying for 501(c)(3) status. Next up was drafting the bylaws and assembling the board for our first official meeting, where we’ll adopt the bylaws and nominate a President, Secretary, and Treasurer.

All of this -- the forms, the meetings, the structure -- is part of the journey toward becoming a recognized nonprofit and attaining the necessary 501(c)(3). And while my mind was tangled in paperwork, my imagination kept drifting into this big, beautiful “what if” space. I truly believe that if this foundation is led with compassion, gratitude, and kindness, it can become so much more than a scholarship fund—it can become a movement of access, creativity, and community.

Another thought that kept coming up was the reality of families who simply don’t have much. Families who can’t afford to send their kids to summer classes—even when the cost is as low as $20 per session. For some, that’s already too much. When you’re choosing between putting food on the table or paying for an extracurricular class, you choose food. Every time. And I get that. That’s why I knew that giving back in a way that removed financial barriers had to be part of this foundation. I wanted to create a space where money wasn’t a limitation, a space where kids who’ve never had the chance to participate could feel seen, safe, and free to explore. That’s how the idea for the summer workshops was born: donation-based, open to all, joyful, and rich with learning. Music. Dance. Body percussion. A halo-halo of creative exploration. A space where kids can move, express, connect—and in their own way, experience the kind of freedom and joy Bon created for us.

Thinking about all of this melts my heart but can also feel overwhelming. I remember the day I suddenly stopped and said, “What am I getting myself into?” It was a real moment and a real question. And I got scared for a few seconds. But then I immediately giggled because let’s be honest, it is a lot and even with that realisation, I’m still in whole heartedly. Fully committed. So committed that I’m happy to announce that “We. Are. Official.” The Bonifacio Valera, Jr. Foundation was officially approved by the Secretary of the State of California on April 22, 2025. My excitement level was off the charts after I read the email. The first hill tackled and the next one coming right up.

To be honest, some days the walls of doubt and frustration are higher than they should be and that’s not fun. Some walls are often things related to either paperwork or something that's technical/creative like putting together a Wix website. That's why delegating is essential. And often I have to remind myself that I can’t do this alone. I need help. A lot of it.

Sometimes I talk to Bon, especially when I'm doubting myself and when things get really hard. I imagine him hearing me, maybe even answering. But there are also days when I talk to him and the grief turns sharp. I get angry. Angry that he’s not here. Angry that he didn’t take better care of himself. Angry that I can’t hear his voice anymore. Angry that he’s not leading the way like he always did. And when that wave hits, I cry. And then I'm sad. And then I do what I know how to do...I channel my anger. I open my laptop, throw myself into Foundation work, and get things done. Turning pain into purpose helps me breathe again. In so many ways, creating this Foundation has been one of the most healing things I’ve done.

Another thing I keep in mind as I move along this journey is to breathe. To ask for help. To give myself permission to take it one step at a time. I’ve also made a quiet promise to at least do one thing for the foundation every day. Even if that one thing is simply resting so I can try again tomorrow. And when I think of it that way, my mountain of to-do lists doesn’t feel quite so overwhelming and what I’m doing feels possible.

So overall, this foundation, it's happening. It’s going to hold memories, music, culture, joy, and new beginnings. This foundation is how we keep Bon’s spirit alive, not just as an artist, a mentor, and a friend, but as the light that still guides to create, connect, and carry forward.

This is my foundation journey so far. I’ll keep you updated on the ups, the downs, and all the dramatic monologues in between.

More soon. I promise to keep it honest. Stay tuned. Stay compassionate. Stay kind.

— Nerinna (still figuring it out)

[Just for fun, I'm attaching my mood board for the kuya Bon website, I forgot to put a banana image in there.]