It’s possible for this story to have ended in a different way. A family that was torn apart by an act of pure hatred is turning inward because they are so sad. They would not have been blamed. The Corporon family did not do that, though.
Three people were killed by a white supremacist in Overland Park, Kansas, on April 13, 2014. They were Dr. William Corporon, his 14-year-old grandson Reat Underwood, and Teresa LaManno. In the days that followed, when most families would have just been trying to get through the grief, something strange happened. The people who knew the victims best made a quiet choice. They were not going to let hate win.
Tony Corporon says that the agreement turned into SevenDays, a nonprofit that is now in its twelfth year of spreading kindness in the Kansas City area through education, conversation, and involvement in the community. What began as a private promise from a family has turned into something the city really needs right now.
Take a moment to think about that. Twelve years is a long time to keep going with anything, let alone a movement based on something as vague as kindness. A lot of grassroots efforts start strong and then die. Not for SevenDays. It’s even more important now than it was before. In the past few years, hate crimes across the country have reached all-time highs. Ruth Bigus, who is the organization’s Director of Community and Media Relations, doesn’t try to change that fact. She said, “People learn how to hate.” “We’ve got to teach people how to be kind.”

SevenDays holds a week-long event in the Kansas City area every April. Each day has a different theme, such as LOVE, DISCOVER, OTHERS, CONNECT, YOU, GO, and ONWARD. The structure is very basic, almost too basic to be true. Schools use the curriculum. Businesses plan things to do. Families take part. Love is always the first step. Tony Corporon is planning to give that order. He told her, “You lead with love.” “Kindness is the only way to beat evil.” “And love is the only thing that can beat darkness.” If it came from someone who lost both his father and nephew to hate crimes, it would sound like something you’d see on a motivational poster.
Everyday actions that are part of the initiative are pleasantly understated. Taking care of a door for someone. Giving a coworker help to finish a job. Giving blood. Going less fast on the highway to let someone merge. There’s no need for a big show. It looks like that’s the whole point. Bigus joined the group only three months after the murders, and he says that what the family did still weighs on him. “Just amazed and impressed,” she replied, “how from such tragedy, you would have the sense to think about other people.”
Mindy Corporon co-founded SevenDays and still runs it. That day, she lost both her son and her father. She has said in public that she didn’t know how she would make it through the first ten days. What an honor it is to witness someone not only rebuild their own life, but also an institution from the ruins. The mission’s consistency—showing up every April, every year, without fail—might be the most powerful thing SevenDays says.
The organization cares a lot about young people and has a kindness youth leadership program because they believe that the next generation can be changed. “These kids are willing to learn how to be kind,” Bigus stated. It’s not naive to say, “They’re the future.” It sounds more like a bet that the Corporon family thought was a good idea.
Onward is the name of the last day of the week, and it asks people to keep practicing what they learned for the next 358 days. Tony Corporon says it’s a promise to be the same person at the end of the week. It’s possible that SevenDays wants Kansas City to do that more than any other event, breakfast, or themed school activity. Not for a second. A pattern.
It is hard not to notice that the responses to hatred that last the longest are usually quiet. They can look like a family sitting around in grief, making a deal, and then just showing up. Every year. Except when a city starts to show up with them.

