You probably know the name because of the basketball arena. If you’ve ever stepped foot in Bloomington or watched a Hoosiers home game on TV, those massive letters—Simon Skjodt Assembly Hall—are impossible to miss. But honestly, most people think Cynthia A. Simon Skjodt is just another wealthy heir writing checks from a skyscraper.
That’s not even close to the truth.
Cynthia, or "Cindy" as literally everyone in Indiana calls her, isn’t just a donor. She’s a clinical therapist with a Master’s degree who spent years obsessing over how the human brain heals. She’s a woman who survived a brutal, public legal battle over her father’s multibillion-dollar estate. And she’s someone who, despite having enough money to live anywhere on Earth, stayed in Central Indiana to fix things that are actually broken—like the local mental health crisis.
The Weight of the Simon Name
Being the daughter of Melvin Simon isn’t just about the perks. Mel was the guy who basically invented the modern shopping mall and co-founded Simon Property Group. He also bought the Indiana Pacers when the team was basically on life support in the early 80s.
Cindy grew up in that shadow.
But here’s the thing: she didn’t just ride the coattails. She went to Indiana University, got her B.A. in 1980, and then did something most billionaire kids don't. She went back to school at Butler University to get a Master of Science in Family and Marriage Therapy. She wanted to understand people, not just spreadsheets.
That’s a huge distinction. It’s why her philanthropy looks different. When she gives money, it’s rarely just for a plaque on a wall. It’s usually tied to something like the Samerian Foundation, which she and her husband, Paul Skjodt (a former professional hockey player), named after their three kids: Samantha, Erik, and Ian.
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That $40 Million Gift and the Assembly Hall Legacy
In late 2013, the news dropped: Cindy was giving $40 million to IU. It was the largest single gift in the history of IU Athletics.
People outside Indiana were baffled. Why put that much into a basketball gym?
"If you love this university, you should give back to this university," she told reporters at the time. But for her, it was personal. She grew up going to those games with her dad. To her, Assembly Hall wasn't just a building; it was where her family's history lived.
The renovation was massive. They added the Mark Cuban Center for Sports Media and Technology, updated the south lobby, and basically saved the "greatest home-court advantage in college basketball" from crumbling. But while the sports world was cheering, Cindy was quietly pivoting back to her real passion: behavioral health.
Why She’s Obsessed with Mental Health
Because of her background in psychotherapy, Cindy knows how much Indiana struggles with mental health resources. She’s been the driving force behind things like the Simon Skjodt Child and Adolescent Behavioral Health Unit at Riley Children’s Health.
Think about that for a second.
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Most wealthy donors want the "shiny" projects—the art galleries or the grand entrance halls. Cindy leaned into the messy, often overlooked world of psychiatric care for kids. In 2016, a $3.8 million donation from her foundation helped build a unit specifically for children in crisis.
She also endowed the Cindy Simon Skjodt Chair in Art Therapy at the Herron School of Art and Design. She’s trying to bridge the gap between creative expression and clinical healing. It’s a niche, specific way of giving that shows she actually knows the subject matter.
The Fight for the Estate
It hasn't all been gala dinners and ribbon cuttings.
When Melvin Simon died in 2009, things got ugly. Really ugly. There was a massive legal war over his $2 billion estate. Cindy and her sister Deborah challenged a change in their father's will that happened just months before he died, which gave his second wife, Bren, a significantly larger chunk of the fortune.
The sisters argued their father was suffering from dementia and didn't understand the changes he was signing. It was a messy, public drama that lasted for years before settling in 2012.
Imagine having your family’s private medical struggles and financial disagreements splashed across every newspaper in the state. That kind of pressure changes a person. It’s likely one reason why Cindy is so fiercely protective of her philanthropic mission now—she’s seen how quickly a legacy can be derailed by infighting.
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What Most People Miss
If you look at her resume, it’s dizzying.
- Served on 38 local boards.
- Appointed to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum Council by President Obama.
- Received the Sagamore of the Wabash (Indiana’s highest honor) three times.
But if you talk to people who work with her, they don't talk about the awards. They talk about her showing up. She’s known for being "hands-on" to a degree that’s almost annoying for some committees. She doesn't just want to sign the check; she wants to know how the program is going to survive in five years.
The Actionable Takeaway: The "Cindy" Model of Giving
So, what can we actually learn from how Cynthia A. Simon Skjodt operates? Whether you're a small-time donor or just someone trying to make a dent in your community, her approach has some real-world logic:
- Don't ignore your roots. She stayed in Indiana. She reinvested in the school that educated her. Influence is more effective when you actually live in the community you’re trying to change.
- Use your expertise. She didn't just give to "healthcare." She gave to psychotherapy and art therapy because she understood those fields from her own education.
- Legacy isn't passive. You have to fight for it. Whether it was the legal battle for her father’s estate or the fight to keep Assembly Hall iconic, she didn't just let things happen to her.
What’s Next?
As we move through 2026, keep an eye on the IU Health Community Impact Investment Fund. While Cindy isn't the only name attached to Indiana's massive health initiatives, her influence on how we view "behavioral health" in the Midwest is foundational.
She's basically set the blueprint for how a "legacy" family transitions from business moguls to social architects. It’s not just about the name on the building; it’s about the specific, clinical work happening inside the walls.
If you want to see her impact for yourself, don't just look at the arena. Look at the "Be Happy" program at Riley or the art therapy clinics in Indianapolis. That’s where the real work is happening.
Next steps to understand her impact:
- Research the Samerian Foundation’s current grant cycles to see which local nonprofits they are prioritizing this year.
- Check out the Lilly Family School of Philanthropy, where she endowed a chair in her father's name, to see how they are training the next generation of nonprofit leaders.
- Visit the Simon Skjodt International Orangutan Center at the Indianapolis Zoo—another project she championed that blends conservation with public education.