Justin Rudd is one little person in one little part of the world. But his work shows how one little person can make one big difference and provides a model that can be copied anywhere.

Almost none of us ever have an influence beyond our family, our closest friends, maybe our workplace. But that doesn't mean we can't make a big difference to our world—which is, after all, local for each one of us.

Justin Rudd is a paragon of positive influence on a local level. His world is Long Beach, California, and it is there that his Community Action Team (CAT) works its influence, with the mission of "promot[ing social well-being among the general public" through "quality events within our community that benefit children, animals, and the environment."

While that may sound like a broad umbrella, that is how Rudd likes it. Well-being, after all, is a general state, with many subdivisions and many ways to get there. But the breadth of CAT came to be almost accidentally, as Rudd's good work began with modest intentions: to get together with people who shared his interests. Long before CAT was conceived he was putting together gay/lesbian sprint-dating events and a weekly supper club for gay men. Then he decided a good way to give his bulldog Rosie more opportunities to play with other dogs was simply to organize get-togethers of dog-owners.

Then came what would be a CAT cornerstone: a weekly 30-Minute Beach Cleanup. A dog parade followed (an outgrowth of the response he got whenever he dressed up Rosie for Easter, etc.). Then another. Rudd realized that this was what he wanted to do.

"That's where my heart was," he says. "My heart wasn't in making money for a PR agency."

But that's what he was doing part-time, along with various additional gigs (teaching a fitness class, cleaning offices, cutting grass). But he continued with the events. Then came the day in 2003 when Anne Tolles, a regular attendee of the fitness class he taught inquired about donating to support his philanthropic endeavors but wanted a tax write-off. Hearing that Rudd had yet to file for 501(c)3 status, Tolles led Rudd through the seminal steps to turning his natural inclinations into a career.

I didn't set out with a vision like, 'I want to better my community'; it just has evolved into that," Rudd says. "I've always wanted to do better for the world and the world [directly] around me, and that just happens to be one way I did it: by bringing large groups of people together."

Fast-forward a dozen years, and today CAT is promoting social well-being in Long Beach by staging dozens of community events throughout the year. Various holidays, for example get the CAT treatment. Operation Easter Basket, for example, provides approximately 1,800 essentials-filled baskets for some of the neediest children in the city. On July 4th there's a kids' bike parade. On Halloween there are costume contests for both kids and adults. On Valentine's Day is a father/daughter dance. The Christmas season is decorated with a host of events.

Another holiday event, Thanksgiving morning's 5K/10K "Turkey Trot," regularly attracts 5,000 participants and nets CAT most of its operating capital. That capital allows CAT to distributes cash at several other events, such as $500 apiece to a number of "Long Beach Heroes" awarded at a dinner recognizing their work; $1,000 for the winners of a National Anthem Sing-Off, a chalk-art contest, a 24-hour digital-photo contest, and both a kids' and adults' spelling bee; and the Long Beach Giving Project, which provides $1,000 apiece to about a dozen do-gooders to help them provide goods and services throughout the community.

Rudd freely admits that several CAT events are derivative of well-known, national counterparts, and he couldn't care less, because the point is not originality, but bettering his community. The idea for Long Beach Heroes, for example, comes directly from CNN Heroes, of which Rudd became aware during a rare moment in front of a television.

"I said, 'Wow, those are some impressive people on that stage,'" he recalls. "I didn't know of another program in Long Beach that was recognizing unsung heroes, so I kind of just fashioned it after CNN Heroes. I knew we couldn't give everyone $50,000, but I figured we could give people $500 or $1,000. […] We're rewarding people who are doing a good job at whatever they do in our community."

Rudd points to 2014's Hero of the Year, Anna Manguia, a homeless woman, as an example, noting that she takes it upon herself to help clean up a park in which she spends a lot of time, reports problems to the parks recreation office and the police, etc. She was even instrumental is helping the Long Beach Police Department arrest two child molesters.

"She very impressive," Rudd says. "For someone who could easily be a person who begs or says, 'What else can you do to help us?' she's giving back to the community, raising it up and making a difference."

Just as Rudd has fashioned CAT programs like Long Beach Heroes or Long Beach Losers—a 12-week team weight-loss competition that not only uses the fulcrum of community to facilitate improved physical health, but incentivizes the process by redistributing around $40,000 in registration fees as cash jackpots—after other programs, he's perfectly happy to have people in other communities to fashion their own programs after his.

"I would say that every program we do could be recreated in any other city by someone that's going to take the initiative," he says. "Like Operation Easter Basket. Anyone can gather some baskets and fill them with supplies and give them to kids that need them. […] Or the sock drive we're currently doing. Maybe they can't collect 3,500 pair and give them out, but they can collect 300 pairs quite easily, I think. […] It's just follow-through. Tell people about [your project], and do what you say you’re going to do."

CAT's most-copied event is Operation Santa Paws, a December drive to collect toys, treats, food, and supplies for shelter dogs animals. As of this Christmas Operation Santa Paws has been picked up in 25 states. "They're all using our name and our logo," he says, "and they’re welcome to it!"

If there's a common thread that runs throughout CAT events, it's their tendency toward helping the helpless.

"I have a thing for things that can't necessarily help themselves and that need some help," Rudd explains. "The beach, for example, can't help itself, so I try to help clean it up. Or shelter dogs and cats. It's not their fault that they're there, so I want to help them. Or homeless people. Maybe sometimes they can help it, but I'm very familiar with mental-health issues [vis-à-vis the homeless population], so in that respect they can't help where they are. Sometimes they don't realize that they have holes in their socks or wet socks. That's why we collect socks. That's why in June, when my birthday is, I say, 'I don't want any presents; what I want you to do is clean your closest and donate your old clothes, so we can give them to those homeless people. I want to help people and things that can't help themselves. I like that. I love that."

Rudd always felt pulled toward organizing gatherings and events. Even before high school he was putting together large birthday parties for friends, and in college he was social chairman of fraternity even as a freshman year.

Another of Rudd's lifetime drives has been simply to do better. In high school he recalls forgoing Friday-night fun with his twin brother and friends in favor of studying, a sense of priorities that contributes directly to keeping his philanthropic engine running.

"It's always been something in my psyche that I want to do good and help improve and be of service," he says. "[…] Sometimes things can get in the way of that. But I don't watch TV, I don't go to movies, I never got into drug and alcohol. I don't judge people for being into things like that; I'm just choosing to use my time in different ways."

Rudd also harnesses his religious faith to drive his work.

"I choose to see Christianity as being a proponent of love and peace and giving and kindness, and to live like that, a Christ-like type of a life," he says. "I think that's what Christ was, and those are some things I try to incorporate into my daily living."

Rudd's simple model of putting one's particular talents out into one's immediate surroundings can be copied by nearly anyone in any community. And how Rudd has put that model into practice garners praise from the highest levels of local government.

"Justin is a great example of creative community service," says Long Beach Mayor Robert Garcia. "His love for Long Beach and his ability to connect with people have helped make this city a better place to live". 

"I do have confidence that I can make a difference—and that everybody can," Rudd reasons. "It's that so many people don't allow their skills or their talents to be used or they don't put them out there or they don't go for it, there's little to no follow-through. […] I always wanted to do better and I wanted to make a difference, [so] I put myself out there."

About the Author

Except for a four-month sojourn in Comoros (a small island nation near the northwest of Madagascar), Greggory Moore has lived his entire life in Southern California.  Currently he resides in Long Beach, CA, where he engages in a variety of activities, including playing in the band MOVE, performing as a member of RIOTstage, and, of course, writing. 

His work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, OC Weekly, Daily Kos, the Long Beach Post, Random Lengths News, The District Weekly, GreaterLongBeach.com, and a variety of academic and literary journals.  HIs first novel, The Use of Regret, was published in 2011, and he is currently at work on his follow-up.  For more information:  greggorymoore.com