“I’m on fire, but I’m trying not to show it.” (Florence + the Machine, Free)
At the ripe age of 31, I have already experienced a significant share of what it means to work in non-profits, especially those in the cultural and education sector in particular. I continue to work in this sector in order to help me build Luumu during my free time and I genuinely believe that non-profits are good and for people like me — whatever that means — more on that in a different post. No need to name drop here (you'll see why, if you keep reading), but for those that are interested, you probably could figure out on your own. This is not a love letter. It could have been, but for unforeseen circumstances beyond my control, it is not.
I have been employed by, served on boards for, and donated countless non-monetized hours (actually, make that years) of my life letting my passion for something (Finland, language learning, and global education) impede my own ideas about what it means to be treated fairly by various organizations, colleagues, and community members. When I have taken breaks from some of these organizations and their activities, it is important for me to know that it can trigger and cause a complex trauma response (just as an aside, yes… It has been evaluated and diagnosed by a credentialed mental health practitioner), if the break was decided by me or forced upon me by “the powers that be” within numerous non-profit organizations.
That being said, here are few things that I think are important to share, that I have had to “learn the hard way”:
Unless you happen to be one of those people, the people you work for and with are NOT your family.
There seems to be a pattern among a lot of organizations that pay little, but demand a lot. It took me learning this “the hard way” in order for me to believe it. This was a tough thing to deal with. Basically, I can summarize this phenomenon, according to my personal experience, in the following way:
Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed me (literally FOR YEARS): “What do you mean that {insert organization(s) that shall not be named}, isn’t actually family? We all look out for one another. I know someone will step up for me, if I ever need it, but probably won’t ever be needed, because this place is like home.”
Emotionally abused me, after they have decided that speaking up about health and safety concerns is a threat to their positions of power: “How could they treat me and other employees this way?”
Well, they aren’t and they did…
I blamed myself for my termination and even felt partially responsible for the extensive abuse carried out by my colleagues on other bright-eyed and bushy-tailed “less-powerful” colleagues and made excuses for my supervisors repeatedly for years, just trying to keep doing my best to fulfill the organizations’ missions, while simultaneously subconsciously compromising on my very own values and personal missions. It took me quite a while to untangle myself from this web of guilt and “what ifs” in order to realize that I too really experienced severe harm and should not be the one taking all the blame for my and others’ mistreatment, no matter how the powers that be (and continue to be, by the way) tried to gaslight me into believing otherwise.
When push comes to shove, no matter who you work for, they are your employer first and foremost – in its simplest form, you should consider this to be transactional, nothing more. In fact, I have come to believe that organizations (especially the highly visible virtue-signaling non-profits), deliberately use this “family” tactic to prey on bright-eyed and bushy-tailed young (and not so young) laborers. By having the leaders promote the narrative of how “we are like a big family” they are manipulating them, by appealing to their emotions. The same tactic used by many politicians and large corporations to get their constituents and customers to stop using their full brain and heart together to make rational decisions in their own best interests, instead keeping them under their thumb through emotional manipulation.
Look around, notice who can afford to work with you.
After working as a temp worker (who was led to believe that she was so much more than that – at least a cousin in “the family” – if not a matriarch) for many years, I noticed that not all of my friends were choosing to return to this kind of work summer after summer, like I had. I started to ask myself why this was and also had deep discussions with some of these people, in order to figure this all out. It was not long before I realized that it was actually quite a type-cast bunch who were able to sign up “for the long haul” in a number of these non-profit organizations. Many others were unable to dedicate their lives to the organizations’ missions through working there as employees simply because they could not earn enough money doing this kind of work long term.
“Oh, but it isn’t about the money” you’ll hear leadership say or “Don’t forget about all of the other benefits that come from doing this work, like free housing and meals, etc.” or “I wish we could pay you more, but you know how it is…” Unless they are telling you how much everyone makes at the organization from the CEO to the middle managers, to the temp workers of all levels, you actually “don’t know how it is…” and should ask. Transparency builds trust and (theoretically at least) non-profits believe in that.
Overall, in several non-profits that I have worked in, my colleagues come from middle to upper-middle class backgrounds. Colleagues coming from other socio-economic backgrounds may be able to stay in their non-profit positions for a year or two or three, but much more and they realize that they can’t stay, if they want any kind of financial stability for the basics of life here in the USA. Many of the people who have remained in non-profit work for only short durations of time likely have exorbitant student loans to pay back or just simply can’t rely on their parents to catch them financially if they end up not having enough money for rent or food for the month.
When those hard workers leave, it means that essentially, you end up working with people very much like you for years or potentially your entire career. That does nothing really for your own professional development, when it comes to knowing what people in “the real world” face as problems, nor are you able to access their solutions because they simply can’t afford to be in the room.
Therefore, it is essentially a privilege to be able to afford to work with a non-profit. That doesn’t mean that if you are working for one that you should be eternally grateful for the opportunity nor “sacrifice” yourself as some kind of “apology” for your own privilege that your parents and luck were able to provide for you. Rather, try to identify and donate money to organizations doing the good work – and have a track record of it – for the community they serve, the environment, and their employees. Commit to knowing that if it gets to be too much and you need to escape, that you will take the lessons you have learned in order to work hard to build something better. Staying in one place for too long, probably isn’t ultimately serving you.
So I am writing this especially for my Gen Z mentees and fellow Millennials (and who knows, this might apply to all generations), who are just trying their best to work within and volunteer to support non-profits – and they are finding that it is killing them. Get out and walk in the sunshine (it feels great!). Do your best to communicate with others in the organizations you have signed up to be a part of, but do a better job at taking care of yourself, because at the end of the day, no one is going to give you a prize for donating more of your time – at least not a prize that actually helps you pay your bills and create an independent future for yourself where you get to be in control of living your values and mission.
Feel free to reach out, if you’d like to talk. I prioritize supporting young Finnish-Americans (particularly, but not exclusively women) as we figure out this thing called life with a dash of sisu, by lending an ear over coffee in Minneapolis or elsewhere, or through connecting them with other community members, or helping them create and build their own culturally influenced empires.
Eteenpäin yhdessä! (Forward, together!)
