Go for it

Beltway Diary:'I swear, at times, I don't know why on earth I keep doing this." Several heads nod vigorously in agreement while sipping mile-high-skinny-caramel-macchiato-decaf-strawberry lattes from Starbucks.

We rant about the good, bad and ugly of leadership, social and business entrepreneurship and trying to make things happen.

David Bornstein, with whom I am sharing a flight back to the US after a conference on social entrepreneurship in Dublin, has a theory. "You do it because in some ways you are arrogant. You believe that people really need to hear your point of view and because that view is disruptive, demanding change, you have to fight hard for it."

I was stunned. Arrogant? Me? But David has a point.

There is something incredibly arrogant about believing you have to be listened to, about getting up after being kicked down, and fighting blindly to get what you want, but I would rather call it passion. The common thread that binds us, as Eisenhower fellows, is this passion and the ability to get things done. It seems to drive creativity.

Through endless conversations we unanimously agree, despite those ugly moments - when the funds don't come, when you miss a deal, when your heart breaks with frustration that no one seems to get it - that giving up is never really an option. Each of us is a gambler, betting on the greatest currency of all - the belief it can change.

Whether it is Rabia Garib, who wants to promote a more positive image of Pakistan through technology, education and media, or Ratish Nanda from India, who believes urban planning in heritage areas and/or conservation precincts can lead to improved living standards, economic development and neighbourhood stability, the belief that things can change is what makes the change happen.

This passion is reliant on moments of success. It is what we live for. We are addicted to those moments when we shift a person's point of view, bag a fabulous funder, watch a vision become reality, but mostly when we experience the wonder of unexpected opportunity.

My first day in New York is a perfect example. At 10am I find myself sitting in front of a senior partner and global managing director in Ogilvy. I can hardly believe my luck as my half-hour meeting rolls into a two-hour discussion about how an idea I have been nursing for some time around media and disability could became a reality. I have come to this advertising guru and, right across the table from me, this man gets it! And, what's more, he asks me back!

Later that evening I am eating a green curry with Shirlene, an art entrepreneur from Singapore, and Chien-Chi Chang, a Magnum photographer from Taiwan. As I launch my diatribe about disability representation in the media and arts, Chien gently pushes his recent book across the table. It is called The Chain, and is a shocking testimony of life at the Lung Fa Tang mental asylum in Taiwan. He gets it!

By the time we leave the restaurant, I have the support of someone I could not even have dared hope for.

Goodbyes said, smiles all around and flushed with excitement, we flag our cab and head uptown to a tiny jazz club on Broadway called Iridium. There we are mesmerised by the 92- year-old jazz legend and creator of the electric guitar, Les Paul.

By the time I get back to the hotel, with the Manhattan lights twinkling outside my window, I have to pinch myself. I may not have changed the world but I have seen the possibility of it.

We do what we do because we know we can change things; because our belief and courage are fuelled by the entirely unexpected moments of chance, where serendipity throws you a line and an idea you have could very possibly become a reality.

In the business of business, social change or just taking a risk, never forget: among the good, bad and ugly, the bloody marvellous exists too. And that, I have learnt, can come any time, any place. Just keep your eyes open.

• Caroline Casey is chief executive of the Aisling Foundation and O2 Ability Awards. She is the 2007 Irish Eisenhower Fellow (eisenhowerfellow.org) and over the next eight weeks will be detailing her experiences as she travels across the US