Years ago, I learned something about Robin Williams that completely changed how I watched his movies. It wasn’t about his humor, his energy, or his genius—it was about his heart. I never actually booked Robin Williams for an event, but I came close enough that his office sent over his rider.

For those outside the entertainment industry, a rider is a list of an artist’s specific personal and technical needs for an event. It can include anything from bottled water in the green room to sound and lighting requirements. Often, you can learn a lot about a person just from what they ask for. For instance, rock bands famously demand green M&Ms, a detail that seems absurd until you realize it’s a clever way to test whether the production team reads the fine print.

But Robin Williams’ rider was nothing like that. Amid the usual details of food and comfort, he had a requirement that stunned me: for every single event or film, the company hiring him was also required to hire a certain number of homeless people and give them work.

Think about that for a moment. Robin Williams, one of the world’s most famous comedians, was quietly using his influence to create opportunities for people who had none. He didn’t just give his own money or time—he leveraged the clout of every project he touched to lift others. Production companies had to provide jobs, even temporary ones, to those struggling to regain stability. It was subtle, it was effective, and it was profoundly human.

From that day on, I couldn’t watch a Robin Williams movie the same way. I saw the laughter, the joy, and the magic—but also a man who cared deeply about those without a voice, those without opportunity. How many production companies continued the practice in future projects? How many people felt the pride of earning an income, even temporarily, because Robin Williams insisted it happen? We may never know the full scope of the lives he touched, but it was enormous.

Robin Williams wasn’t just a performer. He was a multiplier of impact, quietly weaving acts of generosity into everything he did. He showed that even someone at the height of fame could insist that others succeed alongside them. His legacy isn’t just the laughter we remember—it’s the example of how to use one’s influence to create meaningful, lasting change.

Thank you, Robin Williams. Not just for the laughs, but for the lessons in kindness, compassion, and quiet leadership.