A Measure of Dignity

In her final days in 2011, Marilyn confided a heartbreaking thought to her daughter: she felt she had lived without ever making a true impact on anyone’s life. She had spent her years anchored in duty rather than personal passion, living out what Wendi Schweigart describes as "obligation over inspiration." Marilyn had done what was necessary to sustain her family, quietly convinced that when her journey ended, her footprint would fade behind her. What she failed to realize was that her daughter had spent a lifetime taking notes on her tenacity, her resilience, and her instinct to put others first.

Eight years later, while flipping through a magazine, Schweigart stumbled across an article addressing the widespread crisis of period poverty. The injustice of it hit her with startling clarity, and Marilyn’s memory rushed to the surface. Her mother's life would not be in vain; it would become the namesake and foundation of a movement to return human dignity to women across Southern Nevada.

The Thirty-Piece Promise

Founded in 2019, Project Marilyn emerged as the only nonprofit organization in Nevada solely devoted to ending period poverty. Having grown up in Las Vegas since the age of four, Schweigart understood the community’s rhythms and recognized an unspoken gap in its social safety net. Menstrual hygiene was regularly treated as an afterthought—or worse, a luxury beyond reach for women on the margins.

"Period supplies are seen as luxury items when they are just a basic need for a biological function that happens once a month for over half the population," Schweigart notes. Her operational philosophy is defined by discipline and focus. While many initiatives attempt to be everything to everyone, Project Marilyn deliberately stays in its lane. The organization does not hand out ancillary toiletries like lip balm or hair ties; instead, volunteers assemble streamlined kits containing thirty essential pieces—pads, tampons, panty liners, and hygiene wipes—designed to carry an individual through an entire cycle without compromise. By homing in on this single, recurring biological need, the nonprofit integrates cleanly alongside established community partners who handle food, housing, and general healthcare.

Pearls, Gloves, and a Library Card

The ripple effect of that disciplined approach became tangible at a Mother’s Day tea hosted by the organization—a complimentary gathering designed to make women in the community feel celebrated rather than forgotten. Among the attendees was a woman radiant in a black dress, gloves, and pearls. Years earlier, while unhoused and living out of her car, she had relied on the nonprofit’s Finding Marilyn program to access free period supplies through a local public library.

Having access to clean, reliable products each month provided a baseline of self-worth that allowed her to step out of her vehicle, present herself with composure in job interviews, and eventually secure both steady employment and an apartment of her own. What began as a kit of period supplies became the catalyst for reclaiming her life. For Schweigart, the moment offered proof that essential hygiene is never merely about convenience; it is the prerequisite for stepping into the world without shame.

Beyond the Numbers

In the nonprofit’s earliest chapter, Schweigart measured triumph through gross volume, assuming that higher distribution counts automatically equaled deeper success. But years into the work, her philosophy has shifted from raw tallies to the quality and precision of care.

"We can put out 1 million tampons into our community," she reflects, "but if they are not effectively and efficiently getting to where they need to go, to the clients who actually need them... then I would think that that is less successful than we had hoped."

Real success now means meeting people exactly where they are, listening to their nuanced realities, and leading with the humility of not having all the answers. It is an approach she mirrors from fellow Vegas leaders like Rob Banghart of Shine a Light, whose nonjudgmental, servant-hearted leadership inspires her own. That same spirit guides her advice to aspiring civic founders: before filing paperwork to launch a brand-new entity, look around to see who is already doing the work, and offer them your hands and talents first.

Out of the Sleeve

Looking toward the future, Schweigart's ambition stretches beyond packaging kits. She is working toward an everyday cultural shift where menstruation is stripped of taboo—where women no longer feel compelled to smuggle a tampon up their sleeve on the way to the restroom, and where menstrual products are stocked in public spaces as routinely as toilet paper, hand soap, and paper towels.

For Schweigart, Las Vegas remains the permanent proving ground for that vision. Through every kit handed across a counter, she continues to rewrite the quiet conclusion her mother reached years ago, demonstrating that Marilyn’s legacy was never absent—it was simply waiting for her daughter to bring it into the light.