Dawn Sandone

I would say my greatest strengths are my compassion and my communication skills. I’m naturally extroverted, but I’ve also lived a full life — I’m in my early 60s, and with that comes a depth of experience, perspective, and understanding. I’ve faced challenges, pain, and growth, and I think with age comes a certain wisdom about what truly matters and what doesn’t.

Even early in my career, my personality, communication abilities, and genuine compassion have been the foundation of my success. My authentic, empathetic nature has consistently elevated every aspect of relationship development. Whether it’s in sales — as I am now, representing Amber Glen — or during my decade at the University of Illinois, where I helped raise over $10 million, the common thread has always been building meaningful, lasting relationships. Relationship development has been at the heart of everything I do.

Be genuine. Years ago, I was a successful fundraiser, raising more than $10 million for the University of Illinois. When I was first hired, I was incredibly passionate about the opportunity and wanted to make a strong impression. I went above and beyond — sending handwritten thank-you cards to everyone I interviewed with and even having flowers delivered to a secretary, who had graciously hosted me and walked me around campus on a cold, wintry day in Illinois. Afterward, I was offered the position, and my boss gave me advice that has stayed with me ever since. He told me that my interview follow up enthusiasm and gestures were heartfelt and sincere, but he cautioned me to always ensure that people could see my authenticity. In fundraising and relationship development, he said, if there’s ever a question about whether someone is truly genuine, it can undermine trust — no matter how kind the gesture. That conversation made a lasting impression on me. Over time, he came to see that my actions truly did come from the heart — that my warmth and sincerity weren’t strategic, but simply who I am. Ever since, I’ve made it a priority to ensure that people can feel that authenticity in every interaction.

I have a colleague who’s 27, and she often tells me how much she admires my confidence — how unfiltered, authentic, and comfortable I am in my own skin. She strives for that same sense of ease. I encourage her to let go of the worry about how she looks in photos or what others might think on social media. So many in her generation feel constant pressure to curate their lives online — to focus on appearances, possessions, and the material side of things. When I speak with young women, I urge them to look inward and spend less time fixating on the superficial. We’re not celebrities, and we don’t need to live as if we are. Too often, social media becomes a stage for projecting perfection, but that’s not where true fulfillment lies. Real happiness and purpose come from discovering what genuinely inspires you — your calling, your passion, your work. You won’t find that through likes or followers; you’ll find it through meaningful experiences and pursuing what you love. Once you uncover your true passion, you’ll never feel like you’re working a day in your life. That’s the advice I share: put down the phone, stop comparing, and focus on what truly matters.

The biggest challenge we face is that there simply aren’t enough assisted living communities — not just locally, but across the entire United States. We don’t have the capacity to meet the growing needs of the baby boomer generation. With one in three individuals being diagnosed with dementia, the reality is that our infrastructure is not equipped to handle the demand.

The shortage isn’t just about the number of facilities — it’s also about affordability. In my community, for example, care is private pay, and families spend an average of $120,000 a year. Many residents are able to manage this through long-term care insurance, retirement savings, or other assets. But looking ahead, future generations are far less likely to have long-term care insurance, and that’s deeply concerning. We also lack sufficient Medicaid and Medicare-supported facilities, and even when those options exist, the quality of care often doesn’t match what’s provided in private communities. That disparity highlights both the challenge and the opportunity before us. The opportunity lies in reimagining how we care for individuals with dementia — creating environments that bring joy, dignity, and comfort based on where they are in their cognitive journey. By developing financially sustainable models that make quality care accessible and affordable, we can ease the emotional and financial burden on families and ensure that every individual receives the compassionate support they deserve.

The core value that guides both my work and my personal life is simple: I want to get to heaven. In everything I do, I strive to serve the Lord through my role and my actions. That spiritual foundation shapes how I approach my work, especially in an industry like healthcare, where not everyone’s heart is always fully in their role. One of my deepest commitments is to be an advocate for our residents at Amber Glen — and for any elderly individual who can’t advocate for themselves. It’s a responsibility I take to heart because, in this field, there are times when the voices of the most vulnerable go unheard. I take great pride in standing up for them, ensuring they are treated with dignity, compassion, and respect. With one in three older adults in the United States expected to be diagnosed with dementia, the need for advocacy and education has never been greater. I’m devoted to this mission not only professionally but also through volunteer work in the community, helping others understand dementia and how to support those affected by it. This work is more than a career — it’s a calling. It’s spiritually fulfilling in a way that no other role could ever be. Representing a company for the sake of profit could never compare to the purpose and meaning that come from serving others and honoring God through this work.