Overview:
Wealth manager Michael Brady talks about his career and how he helps his clients use their money to do good in the world.
If the phrase “wealth management” makes you think of cold calculators and quarterly earnings reports, Michael Brady is here to flip that script. The founder of Generosity Wealth Management has spent more than three decades in finance, but his approach is anything but transactional.
For Brady, money isn’t just about security—it’s about meaning. And if you’re lucky enough to call him your advisor, he’ll likely ask you not just about your goals, but about the impact you want to have on the world.
Based in Boulder, Brady created his firm around a core belief: wealth should empower people to live more fully and give more generously. That philosophy—equal parts practical and purpose-driven—has drawn a like-minded community of clients who care deeply about how their money moves through the world.
But he’s not just preaching generosity—he lives it. Brady serves on multiple nonprofit boards, mentors clients toward deeper civic engagement, and travels regularly to Ukraine to support children affected by the war. His most recent work includes organizing camps in the Carpathian Mountains for youth displaced by violence, where a week of simple joy—free from air raid sirens and bomb shelters—offers a rare moment of normalcy.
In this week’s 5 Questions, Brady opens up about his own journey—from being adopted and building a career in high finance to finding fulfillment in service and mentorship. He talks about why he encourages clients to act now rather than wait to leave a legacy, the power of surrounding yourself with mission-driven people and what Americans can learn from Ukrainian kids who still light up at the mention of Coca-Cola and friendship.
You say you’re not a typical financial advisor. How do you advise your clients to put wealth into action?
I’m not your typical financial advisor because I focus on helping clients use their wealth to make a real difference—both in their lives and in their communities—while they’re still around to enjoy it.
I’ll never forget a client who once told me he wanted to leave a park bench on a trail as his legacy, a spot where he’d always get tired and figured others might appreciate a rest, too. I looked him in the eye and said, “Why wait until you’re gone to do something good for the community?” He was floored—he’d never thought of it that way—and we made it happen right then and there. That’s the mindset I bring to my clients: don’t just sit on your wealth, put it into action now.
For me, it’s all about generosity—not just to others, but to yourself first. I believe the purpose of money is to help you sleep well at night, and there’s nothing more satisfying than using it to help others while securing your own peace of mind. I named my company Generosity Wealth Management because it starts with being kind to yourself—making sure you’re not a burden to anyone else—then ripples out to your family and your community, if you choose.
It’s not just about writing a check, though that’s a great start and sometimes all someone can do. It’s about getting involved, whether that’s supporting more dog shelters or something else entirely—I’m apolitical about it. What matters is engaging in a way that feels right to you.
I walk the talk too. I’m out there putting in my own sweat equity—serving on boards, joining organizations, having fun while making an impact—and I encourage my clients to do the same. We sit down and budget for the year ahead, not just for expenses but for the kind of difference they want to make.
And when it comes to planning for after they’re gone, we get creative—maybe naming a charity as an IRA beneficiary to avoid taxes, or setting up a donor-advised fund so their kids or grandkids can keep giving back. It’s a simple, powerful way to pass on both money and values, especially through local community foundations that know where the real good is happening.
That’s how I help clients put their wealth into action—living generously now and leaving a legacy that lasts.

What impact have you seen from generosity?
When I think about the impact of generosity, I see it in two big ways: in my own life and through my company, Generosity Wealth Management. Personally, being generous with my time, money, and talents has completely transformed my world. It’s like putting out a signal that attracts the most incredible, positive people—folks who share the same values and want to make a difference.
My network has exploded with these like-minded individuals, and together, we’re doing some pretty amazing things. It’s one of the best pieces of advice I give: look at who you’re surrounding yourself with. Are they complainers who drag you down, or are they solution-focused people pushing to make the world better? For me, generosity has filled my life with the latter, and that’s been a game-changer.
At Generosity Wealth Management, the impact is just as clear. The name itself draws in clients who are positive, principled and care about their values—people who want to do good. If someone’s negative, solution-averse or unclear about what matters to them, they’re usually not a fit, and that’s okay. This approach has built a community of high-quality clients who inspire me as much as I hope to inspire them.
I’ve seen it firsthand: I’ve taken clients on non-religious mission trips—to Ukraine, where I go every six months, or to Nicaragua. I’ve invited them to join boards I’m on, like when we need new members, and I know a client who’d be perfect. They light up at the chance to get involved.
It’s not just about managing their money; it’s about mentoring them and opening doors for them to contribute—whether that’s through financial support, sweat equity, or just showing up to lend a hand. They’ll say, “Mike, we love what you’re doing—how can we jump in?” And I’m right there to help them make it happen.
That’s the ripple effect of generosity I’ve seen: it builds connections, lifts lives, and creates a community of people doing good together.

Tell us about the work you were doing with Ukrainian orphans and why you were drawn to the youth of that country.
Adoption has been a huge part of my life—I’m adopted, along with my older brother and sister—so it’s something I’ve always carried with me. Now in my 50s, after years of running a successful business and serving on various boards, I felt ready to give back in a way that really mattered to me.
I wanted to be a voice or a mentor in the adoption space, so I worked with a life coach to figure out my next step. He suggested I write down what I was looking for and share it, so I posted on Facebook about wanting to get involved in adoption or foster care, leveraging my experience and financial know-how. The response was incredible—over a hundred comments with ideas and connections. It was like Facebook for good!
One suggestion came from a gym buddy who’d adopted his son from Ukraine years ago. He invited me to lunch, then to a board meeting for his small organization, Frontier Horizon. I clicked with the team, joined the board, and two weeks later, Russia invaded Ukraine.
That changed everything. Frontier Horizon focuses 80% of its hosting and adoption efforts on Ukrainian kids, but wartime rules halted all international adoptions. We had to pivot.
Some kids from orphanages were evacuated to Germany and Poland, but others—those with guardians like grandparents or family friends—had to stay in Ukraine. These were kids who wanted to be adopted, with families in the U.S. ready to take them in, some even far along in the process.
We didn’t want to lose touch, not knowing when the war might end, so we started hosting week-long camps. Our first was in January 2023, about a year after the invasion—small, but a learning experience. Since then, we’ve held them every six months—winter and summer—bringing 100 to 300 kids from war-torn areas like the east or near Kyiv to the safe Carpathian Mountains in western Ukraine, near Slovakia and Romania.
It’s a chance to give them a break, but also to make a difference. We identify kids with medical needs—like severe burns requiring surgery to save a leg, or simpler fixes like a lazy eye or dental work—and we’ve raised tens of thousands of dollars to help. We also spot kids struggling with trauma. Through a group called I.I.T.S., funded by a generous client of mine, we’ve trained counselors in trauma care, even helping them earn certifications that boost their careers. It’s short-term support—a week away from the front lines, some counseling to carry forward—but it’s meaningful. International Center for Mental Health and Human Rights – Dignity ~ Capacity ~ Resilience
I was drawn to Ukraine’s youth because adoption is personal to me, and this opportunity just unfolded naturally. My advice? Figure out what you’re passionate about, put it out there, and watch what happens. Saying yes to Frontier Horizon has enriched my life—I’ve built real relationships with these kids and seen the impact of simply raising my hand. It’s been incredible.

What are some of the things you have learned from them about the situation there?
One of the biggest things I’ve learned from working with the kids in Ukraine is that kids are kids, no matter where they are. I saw this so clearly during a Zoom call I set up at our latest camp. We had about 80 Ukrainian kids, along with counselors and adults, connecting with students from Boulder’s Fairview High School. I kicked it off simple: “Who likes pizza?” Every hand shot up. “Who likes Coca-Cola?” Same thing.
It hit me—whether they’re in a war zone or halfway across the world, kids want the same basics: to feel safe, to be loved, to have friends. They’re figuring out life just like any other kid. And honestly, it’s not just the kids—adults everywhere share that too. I’ve traveled a lot, worked in different countries, and it always comes back to this: we want safety for ourselves and a better life for our kids. The details might differ from place to place, but at our core, we’re all human.
I’ve also learned that every country has its struggles—stuff we think is unique to us, like arguing over leaders or policies, happens everywhere. We just don’t hear about it as much because the U.S. gets the global spotlight. Smaller places like Ukraine deal with the same mess, just quieter. Over there, the war’s brought out complicated feelings—some want it resolved fast, others, understandably, have hard feelings and want to keep fighting.
I’ve picked up details you don’t get from headlines here, like how they draft men from 25 to 65, with volunteering up to 25, or how everyone’s touched by this—empty houses from people fleeing, losses of friends and family. It’s universal impact. There’s a deep dislike of Russia, even the language, which many speak but are now discouraged from using with kids. Yet, it’s sparked this fierce Ukrainian pride—it’s brought people together, shouting, “We’re Ukrainian and proud!” That’s been beautiful to see.
The situation’s taught me practical stuff too. Everyone’s affected—whether through loved ones leaving or lives lost. But being there, even for a short time, makes a difference. I’ve seen it in the kids’ faces at camp—from day one to the last, their smiles grow. A week without air sirens, without hours in shelters, just jumping rope or making art—it’s simple, but it’s huge for their spirit.
We adults overcomplicate things, but kids don’t need much. Give them a chance to play, make friends, and they’ll figure out the rest. That’s what I’ve learned: the power of just showing up, being human with them, and letting them be kids again, even in the middle of all that chaos.

What can people do in their own communities to bring about sustainable change?
To bring about sustainable change in your community, my first piece of advice is simple: it’s got to be fun. Don’t force yourself into something you don’t enjoy or feel obligated to do. Find what lights you up—whether it’s cleaning a river for the environment, helping at the humane society for dogs, tackling homelessness, or anything else you’re passionate about—and get involved. It could be an hour here or there, a day of volunteering, or something bigger like a board position.
Every little bit counts, but sustainable change takes time, so don’t expect to fix everything overnight. Problems that took decades to build won’t vanish instantly, and that’s okay. Stay realistic, don’t get discouraged, and keep showing up. There’s real power in consistent effort—putting your energy, focus, and brainpower into something you care about.
You’ve got life experience, and that’s gold. Whether you’re volunteering a little each week or stepping up as a leader, bring that wisdom to the table—it’s valuable, locally or globally. I used to volunteer with Big Brothers Big Sisters, just a couple hours every other week, and it fit my life back then. It was simple but meaningful—spending time with someone who needed it.
That’s the thing: what works for you might shift depending on where you are in life. If you’re a parent focused on raising good kids, that’s a huge contribution already—don’t feel pressured to do more if the timing’s off. But if you’ve got the space, start with passion. I’ve seen clients and friends make a difference by leaning into what they love, and it’s inspiring.
Here’s the practical side: forget grandstanding on big issues like geopolitics—your opinion on a war won’t stop it, and that’s fine. Focus on what you can touch, where you can get your hands dirty. Maybe you can’t solve homelessness single-handedly, but you can help locally and trust others are tackling their own passions—like health or education.
If we all come at it from different angles, it adds up. A thousand efforts by ten thousand people can slowly weave together into something real. So, pick your thing, make it a hobby—write a check if that’s what you can do, or call an organization and ask how to jump in. Passion plus persistence is how you build change that lasts.

