In a place where beach sunsets blend with civic culture, one name has been woven into the region’s philanthropic fabric for decades: Teri Hansen. As chief executive officer of the Charles & Margery Barancik Foundation, Hansen has spent the past decade crafting more than a legacy—she has built a blueprint. Her tenure, now drawing to a close with her announced retirement, began not with fanfare but as the foundation's only employee, with a modest office, a blank canvas and a vision for what philanthropy could be.

Since joining Barancik in 2015 following a 13-year run at Gulf Coast Community Foundation, Hansen has led the foundation through tragedy and transformation. Under her stewardship, it grew into a $700 million powerhouse, granting more than $30 million annually to causes spanning early education, mental health, environmental preservation, community news and the arts. She also shepherded the organization through the sudden loss of its founders, Charles and Margery, in a tragic accident in 2019, and later through the churn of the Covid-19 pandemic. And still, she pushed forward—introducing initiatives like First 1,000 Days Suncoast while navigating disaster relief efforts and elevating the foundation’s national profile through efforts like the Barancik Prize for Innovation in MS Research.

Named twice to Florida Trend’s "Florida 500" list of the state’s most influential leaders, Hansen, 68 this month, has never been one to chase the spotlight. Instead, she’s aimed her efforts at unglamorous, often invisible spaces. As she prepares to hand over the reins, we caught up with her to learn about her challenges and achievements.

What was it like when you started at Barancik? 

“When I started, the only thing we had was some money, a board and a name. I picked out the office furniture, the color scheme, the logo—everything. We were building from the ground up. I knew what had to get done. There were two tracks: getting the office set up and building a brand-new organization.

"The very first big project I did was with the Boys & Girls Clubs, helping them get permission from the county to use Newtown Estates as an after-school club. That worked. It was my first month and our first grant. It was everything you’d expect in a startup environment—and then we jumped right into the work.”

You've been in Sarasota for more than two decades. Can you walk us through the path that led you to Barancik?

“I’ve been in Sarasota for 23 years, and at Barancik for 10. Before that, I was recruited to lead Gulf Coast Community Foundation, where I served for 13 years, from 2002 through 2015. That’s how I met Chuck and Margie—they were donors at Gulf Coast."

You’ve led through crises, including the sudden passing of the Baranciks in 2019 and the pandemic. What did that teach you about leadership?

“I’ve been through a lot of crises in life. The first year I was at Barancik, my husband became ill and passed away. So this wasn’t new to me. Honestly, if there’s a crisis, you want me there. I can take people through it—and be able to deal with it later.

“When Chuck and Margie died, we went right into planning a celebration of their philanthropy. And then, suddenly, we were in a pandemic. I remember feeling almost grateful for that time—it allowed me to catch my breath. People needed an adult in the room. We Zoomed twice a day, and worked tirelessly figuring out how to keep nonprofits afloat. We were tracking down thermometers for child care centers and getting laptops to organizations so they could turn their services remote. It was constant.

"People thought, 'This will be over in three weeks.' It wasn’t. We had to make sure kids who depended on school meals were still getting fed. We worked with the food bank to start that early. We made sure students stayed on track with learning programs. It was complex, and it lasted many months.”

What about natural disasters, like hurricanes?

“Every hurricane is different. They hit communities in different ways, and we’ve learned not to rely on a one-size-fits-all approach. For example, Hurricane Helene hit the barrier islands and impacted hospitality and food service workers. Then Milton came through, and I’d never seen anything like it. Hurricane Ian devastated the southern part of Sarasota County—an area with fewer resources than the mid- and north-county areas.”

What are you most proud of?

“Two things. First, my team. I work with an amazing group of smart, compassionate, passionate people. Second—before he died, Chuck told me the foundation had far exceeded what he ever imagined in terms of impact. That meant a lot.”

Philanthropy is described as being “big-hearted,” but it’s also power. How do you hold that tension?

“For us, it’s about venture philanthropy. We can try things that others—governments, businesses—can’t or won’t do. And once something works, others can scale it. That’s what we did with The Bay. We helped fund the research to prove its value to the community. Same with programs in schools, especially around teacher support.

"We also fund things that aren’t particularly sexy. Selby Gardens is entering its second phase of development, and we’re helping provide a secure environment for rare plants throughout that transition. Some of them are the only ones of their kind left on Earth. It’s not flashy, but it’s necessary.

"Same with dolphin research. Randy Wells runs one of the oldest longitudinal studies of wild dolphins. I asked what he needed. He said: basic research funding. It’s not glamorous, but it matters.

"We’ve even supported a recidivism program that pairs people exiting jail with navigators who help them find housing, training and food—everything they need to reenter society successfully. Without that, they’re more likely to reoffend. We’re not doing this for recognition. It’s doing what needs to be done."

How do you decide what’s urgent versus what’s important?

“The foundations in this community talk all the time. We stay in sync to avoid duplication. At Barancik, we work with a sense of urgency because going without basics for days or weeks can be deadly. We study where we can make an impact. But the real heroes are our nonprofit partners. They’re the ones on the ground doing the work.”

What’s unfinished? What do you hope the next CEO carries forward?

“We’re at the edge of a new chapter as a foundation. I’ve got the vision for it, but this is a 10-year run, and it’s time. We’re making $32 million or $33 million in grants this year, and by law, we have to give away 5 percent of our assets annually. That’s nearly $100 million over three years. The question is, where can we make the most impact?

"Before Chuck and Margie passed, we didn’t have that kind of money. Their passing grew the foundation’s assets exponentially. Now the focus has to be on how we use it wisely. I don’t want to prescribe what the next CEO should do, but instead describe what needs attention.”

Is there a question you wish people in philanthropy asked more often?

“In general, I wish more people would ask, 'How can I help?' instead of leading with anger. If we framed our challenges as opportunities to serve instead of getting angry at each other, we could find better solutions, and find them faster.”

When is your last day?

"When they find my successor and we’ve handed over the keys. It should only take a few minutes. I’ll be around to help. But no new CEO wants the old one hanging around. I’ll be available however they want, but I suspect it’ll take six to eight months to find the right person."

What’s next for you?

“I’m staying local, and in retirement, I want to be a better friend and relative. I want to give back to the people who have helped me so much over the years.”