[Image description: Golden sunlight streaming through a forest of pine trees. Pixabay.com. By the way, someone told me they didn’t understand why I write these image descriptions. It is not just for fun. Image descriptions help people who have vision impairment. Read more here.]
Hi everyone. This week is Thanksgiving in the US, a holiday revolving around food and spending time with the people closest to us, the people we love despite their continuing to have no understanding of what we do. It’s capacity building, Dad, holistic organizational capacity building combined with equitable leadership development, I’ve told you a hundred times, gaw!
Thanksgiving forces us to reflect on what we are grateful for, the people and things we often take for granted, and this should include the fact that we are on, and benefit from, stolen Native land. Take a moment to read this article, “This Thanksgiving, Educate Your Family About Native History and Culture.”
[Image description: Two lemurs, an adult lemur with a little baby lemur riding on their back. They both are facing the camera. I am not sure what kind of lemurs these are, maybe ring tailed? The adult has white and grey fur, while the baby seems to have white and light brown fur. Pixabay.com]
This week I got a text message from a foundation program officer colleague talking about “when philanthropy takes equity seriously but not really because they ask the POC to be THE equity person when they are already doing four jobs.” This reminds me of “Equity Offset,” a term my friend James Lovell may have invented when he and some colleagues were discussing the phenomenon of nonprofits or foundations bringing in well-regarded speakers or equity consultants to signal that the organizations are “woke,” and this then allows them to continue being inequitable.
Equity Offset is like carbon offset. Carbon offset, in simplistic terms, works like this: Companies or individuals pay for trees to be planted, or parks to be cleaned up, or other things that reduce carbon or other greenhouse gas emissions, in order to offset their own negative environmental impact. This allows them to basically continue polluting while feeling less guilty.
[Image description: A blue frog with black spots all over, looking to the left, while standing on some sort of mossy branch or something. They look serious. Very serious. Pixabay.com]
Hi everyone. I have almost exactly one month left before the sun sets on my time as an executive director. (If you want to sound majestic and full of gravitas, just add “the sun sets on [someone]’s time” to anything; for instance, “We have ten minutes before the sun sets on our time together at this dive bar.” Thanks, Lion King.) I explained why I and a whole lot of other leaders, especially leaders of color, are leaving here.
Last week, I got an email from a colleague, a woman of color ED, asking me to call her back. There was no context. I knew what this meant. It meant she was leaving her position and wanted to give me a courtesy notice before the announcement came out. I was right. “I’m tired,” she said; I could hear the weariness in her voice. We were silent for a moment. I didn’t know what to say that didn’t seem trite or patronizing. “I’m sorry,” I said.
Quietly, nonprofit leaders are leaving their posts. And most of us ED/CEOs swear off ever doing it again. And younger folks, it seems, are increasingly reluctant to take up the mantle. Who the hell can blame them? The ED’s job has always been like Sisyphus pushing the fundraising boulder up a hill, but while the eagle of program impact is pecking out his liver; the Cerberus of board, staff, and community expectations is chasing after him; and he’s trying to avoid looking at the Medusa of cash flow projections.
[Image description: An exhausted cat sleeping with their head on a wooden platform. They are white with some gray hair on their head, and pink ears. Their eyes are closed. I wonder if they’re dreaming. Do cats dream? Excuse me while I spend the next hour googling whether research has been done regarding whether and which animals dream. Pixabay.com]
A couple of weeks ago, I asked the NAF Facebook community, “What are creative ways you are thinking of in terms of retirement? Me, collecting kitchen gadgets in hope that these cherry pitter and pickle grabber etc., will appreciate in value!” The comments that came back were hilarious, because this is a group of brilliant, witty, and extremely good-looking folks. Here are a few:
“I intend to die in whatever museum I’m
working in, and have my corpse be mistaken for part of the exhibit program.
Until a century later, when an intern is cleaning they figure out that I’m that
curator who disappeared. It’s the price of fame.”
“Dumpster dive former board members homes.”
“Relying on my love of the outdoors, because I’ll be living
in a tent. When I’m ready to die, it’ll be with honor- just wandering into the
forest and letting the coyotes eat me.”
“I plan on selling black market pies at the train station.
Not kidding. I make excellent pie.”
“Work until I die – in debt”
“Commune / small house community with
all of the other women I know who gave their best years to the cause and never
got enough in salary or retirement benefits to be able to “plan” for
retirement.”
“I feel like Pokémon will still being a thing in like 40
years, so hopefully I can sell the cards that I hoarded in 1999 to help make
the student loan payments I’ll have until I die.”
“I’ve thought about dying at my desk”
“Counting on society to totally collapse before then, so
currency and debt will be meaningless.”
“I plan on dying on the phone line, most likely in the
middle of an ask.”
“My retirement plan is climate change and/or the total
collapse of late stage capitalism.”
[Image description: Three dogs, draped in white sheets, dressed like ghosts. There is a jack-o-lantern between two of the pups. They are outside in what looks like a forest, all look adorable. Pixabay.com]
Hi everyone, Halloween, my favorite holiday, is this week. So here are some scary stories that are guaranteed to send tingles up your spine. Make sure you don’t read these alone. Also, if you’re looking for nonprofit-themed Halloween costumes, check out #NonprofitHalloweenCostumes on Twitter (“Dress in yellow clothing. Wear a brown hat. Say things like ‘We will triple the number of people served.’ You are a Strategic Flan.”)
The Chair
There was clearly something wrong with the chair. The
team had received it from an anonymous donor. It showed up in the office one
day, a shiny black executive swivel, ergonomic, with a headrest. Right away, it
gave off a strange vibe that the team had never felt before. Staff who sat on
it complained that it made them feel uneasy. Someone suggested they bring in a local
medium who was known to be able to purify negative energy in objects and rooms.
