For 15 years, the Livestrong Foundation rode Lance Armstrong’s success as a professional cyclist to the top of the nonprofit world, becoming a $500 million global brand at its peak.

The superstar athlete’s dominance in cycling brought Livestrong tons of positive publicity, well-funded business partners and a platform that allowed the Austin-based nonprofit to broadcast its message of fighting cancer to the world. For example, the group’s iconic yellow wristbands — a partnership with Nike — have reached 87 million people since they were first produced in 2004.

But beginning in 2012, when the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency accused Armstrong of doping during his unprecedented seven consecutive Tour de France victories, Livestrong’s ascent began to unravel. And in 2013, months after he stepped down from his leadership role at the foundation he had set up and which had carried his name, Armstrong admitted using performance-enhancing drugs, and the bubble completely burst.

Contributions to the organization plummeted nearly 40 percent in one year, and business partners that had previously lined up to work with the nonprofit, like Nike, suddenly became lukewarm before completely jumping ship.

Now, with a new chief executive and a renewed sense of mission, Livestrong is eager to move past the controversy that has bogged it down for almost three years and refocus the public’s attention on the good the nonprofit says it has done for millions of people affected by cancer around the world.

But how can an organization so inextricably tied to its founder move past a controversy spawned by him?

To many within Livestrong, it’s all about framing the issue not as a bounceback or new chapter after a difficult period, but about doubling down on what they say the organization has always been about: serving cancer patients and survivors.

And although the foundation has seen a drastic loss of corporate supporters, the leaders of the organization see a silver lining. New business partners have come into the fold after the foundation’s refocusing of its mission, said Ellen Barry, executive vice president of strategic communications for Livestrong, and though they are smaller, they are more deeply connected to Livestrong’s goals, she said.

Mark Lipton, a management professor at the New School in New York who has followed Livestrong’s moves closely, said the loss of Armstrong and his lucrative supporters might provide an opportunity.

Lipton said the nonprofit could present itself as a leaner organization solely focused on serving cancer patients and no longer tied down by cycling events or media demands — tied to their superstar founder — that some viewed as distractions.

“It’s a huge opportunity,” Lipton said. “I think this is a moment, and I don’t want to be as dramatic as saying it’s a make-or-break, but it probably is.”

Medical school partnership

The group’s newly announced partnership with the University of Texas Dell Medical School will play a big role in its reinvention. Last year, after two consecutive years of drops in revenue, Livestrong announced its pledge of $50 million over 10 years to establish the Livestrong Cancer Institutes, which will focus not so much on treatment, but on helping patients navigate more day-to-day issues such as second opinions, insurance matters and a host of other obstacles that come after a cancer diagnosis.

Brian Mittendorf, an accounting professor at the Fisher College of Business at Ohio State University who monitors nonprofit finances, said the pledge telegraphs Livestrong’s intentions.

“Ultimately, we’ll see whether it’s the right move or not, but it’s a brave move given that they had some resources left over and could have just said let’s try to ride this out,” he said. “It’s a pretty big decision to say we’re going to commit a huge chunk of resources to shifting things.”

Those within Livestrong have not been shy about what the partnership means to them.

“What the Livestrong Cancer Institute does, I think, is, as much as anything, it clears the air in certain constituencies that there is anything at Livestrong other than its mission,” said Jeff Garvey, chairman of the Livestrong Foundation. “If there was any doubt in anybody’s minds … now there’s absolutely no question.”

New leader

The hiring of Chandini Portteus, a 10-year veteran of the nonprofit cancer sector at the Susan G. Komen Foundation, as the group’s new CEO presents another opportunity to rebrand. At 36, she brings youth, energy and, as an outsider, a fresh face to an organization in desperate need of one. (She replaces Doug Ulman, a highly respected person in the cancer community who spent 14 years at Livestrong, six as the CEO, and who is a close friend of Armstrong’s.)

Portteus wants to engage new audiences through digital tools and social media and bring in new donors and members by showing them their impact on Livestrong’s mission.

“I think people really want to know ‘How am I important to this, and why do you need me?’ ” Portteus told the American-Statesman a day before her hiring was announced. “We need to retell our story in a way that people say, ‘I want to be part of that.’ ”

But she also has the unenviable task of setting and carrying out a vision for a foundation that is linked to a controversial figure and has meant many different things to many different people, Lipton said.

“For them to really succeed, you need Chandini to really much more fully articulate what is the vision of the organization,” Lipton said. “With them plugging ‘We’re here for cancer survivors,’ what does that mean and what makes you different besides the fact that at one time you had a very famous founder that survived cancer? That’s all gone now, and it’s a liability. How do you change that and show to the country that you’re fulfilling a really essential niche for the survivors?”

‘Unique role’

With the Livestrong Cancer Institutes, which the nonprofit is pegging as the first of its kind, the organization is trying to address just that question.

“I think before they were a gigantic fundraising operation and very successful and could through that become a branding operation and provide some of their own services,” said Clay Johnston, dean of the UT Dell Medical School. “Now they’re a service operation that has a unique and important leadership role in cancer. The philanthropy and other sources of revenue are now aligned with that.”

But outside the organization, lingering feelings toward Armstrong and his tie to the foundation still exist.

“It’s hard for some people to separate the individual from the mission,” said Dr. David Johnson, an oncologist and cancer survivor who sits on Livestrong’s board of directors. “I give Lance tremendous credit for doing the things he did at the time he did those things. What transpired in his professional life is something that none of us on the board in all honesty felt was an issue. We were really interested in the mission of the organization.”

This reaction to questions about Armstrong pervades the Livestrong staff, from top to bottom. They are deferentially grateful for Armstrong’s advocacy for cancer patients and survivors but are quick to separate him from Livestrong’s current mission, aware of the controversy and mixed feelings that follow his name.

“We are more than one person,” seems to be the staff’s mantra, and they are ready to get back to helping cancer patients full time instead of worrying about the bad publicity that has hampered them in recent years.

Garvey, the nonprofit’s chairman, said the decision to oust Armstrong, who was a friend of many of the board members’, shows the group’s uncompromising commitment to its mission.

“We did what we had to do, and Lance did what he had to do, which was separate himself from the organization,” Garvey said.

But even after the ouster, Livestrong officials know that some of the public will never fully separate the foundation from its founder, and they consciously choose to focus more on continuing their mission of helping cancer patients rather than trying to separate the organization from a man who they believe started the group with good intentions.

“Don’t judge us by that relationship, but what we’ve accomplished and what we do,” Johnson said. “It’s not about Lance; it’s not about me, or any of the board of directors; it’s about the survivors and their families and providing the assistance they so desperately need.”

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