From Outsider to Community Builder: Hal Cato’s Lifelong Mission to Strengthen Nashville

From his early years delivering Meals on Wheels to rebuilding boards, navigating crises, and challenging Nashville to collaborate across sectors, Hal’s story reminds us that real change happens when we lead with care — and refuse to leave anyone on the margins.

The Tailspin:

Long before he led one of Tennessee’s most influential philanthropic organizations, Hal Cato was a kid riding his bike around 1970s Nashville feeling like he didn’t quite fit in.

“I was one of those kids that grew up feeling like they could fit in anywhere but didn't belong anywhere either,” Hal reflects — a truth that would later shape his empathy as a leader.

After graduating from Ole Miss, Hal tried commercial real estate but quickly realized it wasn’t who he was. To stay grounded while knocking on doors convincing people to move, he started delivering Meals on Wheels.

“I loved it,” he says. “It made me think of my grandmother who was really instrumental in shaping who I am today.”

Then everything changed. Inspired by a news story about Hands-On Atlanta, Hal realized Nashville needed the same kind of episodic volunteer opportunities for young adults. One Meals on Wheels route turned into the launch of Hands-On Nashville, started by a frustrated 24-year-old searching for meaning.

“There was a whole career opportunity in giving back and touching other people's lives,” Hal shares, “and it's just shaped my trajectory ever since.”

That same door-knocking job introduced Hal to a woman launching a corporate childcare company — and suddenly, for the next eleven years, he was building childcare centers across the world. 

“We went public, we were acquired, and I moved to London for a few years and ran their UK business development work over there. It's now the biggest childcare company in the world.”

But it wasn’t until he returned to Nashville in 2001 that he made a 180-degree turn. “I was not done being an entrepreneur,” Hal says, “but I wanted it to be about giving back.”

He joined Oasis Center, drawn to its youth, its energy, and its rebellious spirit. Nashville was changing — and so was Hal.

The Work:

At Oasis, Hal found a mission he deeply identified with.

“I fell in love with the young people who were coming through that door,” he shares. “I saw myself in them.”

But the organization needed structure. “There just wasn't a strong organizational culture,” he explains. “Accountability was not a very popular word.”

So Hal rebuilt board engagement, professionalized operations, strengthened donor relationships, and helped Oasis grow its national reputation for youth empowerment. After 11 years — “probably two years too long,” he admits — he felt the familiar itch to build something new.

He then launched an ed-tech startup, Zuo, designed to help counselors and students connect more effectively. 

“What I didn't realize is that breaking into the tech space, there's not a funding market for it in Nashville, and schools just don't have money for it. So they wanted platforms they could use for free and that's not a very sustainable business model.”

When schools lacked funding to pay for the platform, a healthcare leader saw another possibility — pivot the tool for hospitals.

He did. The company survived. But Hal still felt lost.

“I didn't start that company to help hospital administrators better communicate with surgeons,” he says. “I was miserable.”

Still, he honored his investors, oversaw an acquisition, ensured his team stayed employed — and then walked away.

That’s when Thistle Farms came calling.

He was approached at church by Becca Stevens, the organization’s founder. “The board has told me it's time that we need to hire a CEO. And I agree, and you're going to be it.”

Hal’s response? “I remember thinking something like, hell no — which to Becca means I'd love to.”

Stepping in behind an iconic founder — and into a community of women who had every reason not to trust someone who looked like him — was terrifying.

“People who look like me had just done nothing but buy, sell and abuse every woman in the building,” Hal says. “Until I have their trust, nothing’s going to happen.”

So he showed up — in the café, in manufacturing, in fulfillment, in residential programs.

“Just to be there,” he says. “Self-deprecating. Talk about what I'm not great at. Ask where I need help. Teach me.”

And it worked. Trust formed. Sales skyrocketed. Lives changed — theirs and his.

But Hal knew how to listen to the inner voice he’d ignored years earlier. Thistle Farms needed a season of maintenance mode, and he wasn’t a maintenance-mode kind of leader.

So Hal stepped away — planning to run for mayor, and for weeks, momentum grew. Stickers were printed. Advisors lined up.

But in the quiet moments, Hal admits something just didn’t feel right.

“All the voices outside were telling me to run, run, run,” Hal says. “But the voice within was like, man, I don't think this is for me.”

Two weeks before launch, he ended the campaign before it even began — a decision he has “no second guesses” about.

And then the Community Foundation called.

The Tailwind:

When Hal joined the Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee, he inherited a 62-person board — the largest of any community foundation in America.

“That’s not an honor you want,” he says plainly. So he rewrote bylaws, rebuilt the board, and began reimagining what a community foundation could be when it centers people over process.

“The most important word in our name is community, not foundation.”

Under Hal’s leadership, the Foundation has leaned into civic issues — affordable housing, early childhood education, cross-sector collaboration, and immigrant support.

“We had been thinking about a mutual aid fund to support immigrants for some time, but when the ICE raids hit and the phone rang, I felt like we needed to do this. We need to do this now.” 

Some funders expressed they were unhappy about his decision, while others pulled their support. But Hal stayed the course.

“I knew it was going to teach courage over comfort,” he says. “I was going to get some darts thrown at me either way. But it was the right thing to do.”

Today, Hal continues to lead with deep empathy — the kind born from being the kid on the bike with no friends, now riding for all the others who feel the same way.

“I want to look back and be proud of the fact that I worked my tail off to try to hold our social fabric together.”

He knows Nashville won’t solve its biggest problems alone.

“We can only do this together,” he says. “There’s no one elected official, no one nonprofit, no one business leader. We can only do it together.”

From launching Hands-On Nashville at 25 to restoring structure at Thistle Farms and now reimagining one of the region’s most powerful philanthropic institutions, Hal’s journey shows how empathy, grit, and heart can truly transform a city.

To hear more about Hal Cato’s journey, his leadership philosophy, and his vision for Nashville’s future, listen to the full episode of re:Purpose with Buddy Teaster.