Kristen Grode was surprised to see what she stumbled into when she launched a nonprofit this spring to distribute diapers to needy families.

The suburban mom just wanted to build Minnesota's first diaper bank, an organization that collects diapers from the public and delivers them to agencies helping struggling parents.

But as Grode was calling family and friends in the Twin Cities for donations, a national movement on diaper rights was emerging.

Yale University held its first "diaper colloquium" to devise strategies to get diapers in more hands -- and around more bottoms. The first national study on "diaper needs" was released, showing one in three parents have cut food purchases to pay for nappies. A national campaign to improve access to diapers was launched in Connecticut.

The humble diaper, it seems, is becoming a new frontier of social policy. Advocates argue they are an essential need for children and parents, much like infant formula and food stamps, which are available through the government.

Grode is too busy dispensing diapers around the metro to get too deep in the movement right now. But she says the national trends are helping create a rash of interest in her diaper bank.

"It's been incredible," said Grode, 31, the mother of two from Blaine. "All I knew was that there was a need. But diapers are something that really resonate with people."

Full speed ahead

Grode, a project manager for a large Twin Cities retailer, never set forth to build a diaper organization. She happened to be cleaning her closets this spring and found packages of diapers her children had outgrown. At about $20 a package, she figured she'd donate them.

She discovered that Minnesota food shelves and social service groups distribute diapers if they're donated, but no group was dedicated to collecting diapers. While cloth diapers are logical alternatives, disposable diapers are mandatory for most day cares and Head Start programs, she said. And many low-income families don't have easy access to washing machines and must pay to use laundromats.

So Grode began calling friends, family and some retailers to collect donations. She searched the Internet and found about 20 other "diaper banks" around the country, serious agencies with playful mottos such as "Get behind the movement."

Practically overnight, Grode had an organization called the Diaper Drive, a "steering committee" of friends, temporary collection sites around the metro and four nonprofits needing donations: Kingswood Church in Blaine, Cornerstone in Bloomington, Dakota Woodlands in Eagan and Families Moving Forward in Minneapolis.

Once a week, Grode picks up donations at collection sites and delivers them to one of the participating nonprofits. Last week, her gray van -- stenciled with a picture of a baby diaper -- pulled into the parking lot of Kingswood Church. Volunteers unloaded the diapers, sorted them by size and packaged them into smaller bags to offer to food shelf visitors.

That afternoon, folks walking out the door with diaper bags included a grandmother whose grandchildren lived with her on weekends, a middle-aged woman whose teenaged niece just had a baby and a laid-off worker who grabbed the diapers for a neighbor.

"Diapers are expensive, and it puts stress on families to pay for them, especially if the father of the baby doesn't have a good job," said Alexis Wiita, clutching a colorful bag of diapers while pushing her 1-year-old son in a stroller. "This is a great idea."

A national movement

The timing of Grode's venture couldn't have been better. Kimberly Clark Corp., the parent company of Huggies diapers, last month issued one of the first national studies on "diaper shortages" and pledged to donate up to 20 million diapers to U.S. diaper banks this year.

It's the biggest windfall of diapers ever available to diaper banks nationally, said Kirsten Grabo, a Duluth native and a founder of the Southern Arizona Community Diaper Bank, the oldest in the nation.

Grabo's diaper bank, created in 1994, delivers more than 600,000 diapers each year to 42 social service agencies. It also equips Tucson emergency responders with diaper bags to give to families fleeing fires, domestic violence and other trauma, said Grabo.

"Most people don't realize what a problem this is," Grabo said. "One clinic called us because a baby came in wearing a Wal-Mart plastic shopping bag as a diaper. We get reports from nurses that they've seen babies with staph infections from being in a soiled diaper too long."

Grabo was among the diaper bank leaders who met at Yale University this spring for its first "Diaper Colloquium." The meeting was convened by law professor Judith Resnik, a friend of Joanne Goldblum, founder of Connecticut's diaper bank, who is leading the charge for a national diapers rights movement.

Resnik said she became concerned about the issue when she learned diaper bills can cost up to $1,100 a year, yet there was no government funding stream to help families pay for them. She said there is now sample legislation designed to change that, a bill tentatively called the "Infant and Toddler Healthy Hygiene Act." Sponsors are pending.

Back in Minnesota, the Diaper Drive's needs are more basic. It's looking for new drop-off sites because its 21 Rainbow Foods locations were temporary, said Grode.

She also expects to have an application for nonprofit status submitted within weeks, making the Minnesota diaper bank eligible to receive diapers from the Huggies campaign and other companies.

Meanwhile, two of the powerhouses behind the diaper rights movement, Grabo and Goldblum, are coming to Minnesota next month, and Grode expects to connect with them.

Grode can't believe what she has gotten into.

"Sometimes it's like, 'What was I thinking?"' Grode said. "We're just an ordinary family. We're parents. We're working full time. Trying to do other things. ... But I think it's all worth it."

For more information, go to www.thediaperdrive.com.

Jean Hopfensperger • 612-673-4511