Banksy’s Girl with Balloon (There is Always Hope).
If your organization is shrinking right now, if good work is being cancelled and you feel like your heart is lodged in your throat, this is for you.
Hi.
What you’re going through right now is tragic. It is hard and sad and scary.
Don’t grit your teeth and try to “get through it”.
You’re a human being, not a robot. It’s your humanity that makes you good at what you do. Stay open, even when it hurts.
Grieve for the people you won’t be able to help.
Grieve for the talent you won’t be able to nurture.
Grieve for the ideas that won’t make it out into the world for a while.
Grieve for the moments of connection you aren’t sharing with donors and members.
Grieve for the dreams you can’t bring yourself to dream right now.
After hours, when only your cat can see you, let the sadness wash over you. Feel the ache of loss - because it is real loss.
Just a minute can be enough to reset, to prepare yourself for the next step forward.
You feel grief because you love beautiful and courageous things. You love the people you help, the ideas that can change lives, the purpose that comes with serving your community. Of course you are anxious when they are threatened. Your grief points you towards the things that matter.
There are moments of joy and impact and genuine progress to come. But you won’t be able to recognize them if you shut down. Feel grief now so it is possible to feel joy later. Stay open.
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The idea for this post came from the feeling of deep sadness I felt for colleagues in the sector, people I don’t know, after reading this week’s news. With charitable revenues projected to drop as much as $15-billion and possibly 100,000 job losses, Canada’s charity sector is in for some challenging times.
I read about 20,000 layoffs at YMCA and another third of the jobs at the Canadian Cancer Society and know that those are just a few of the public stories describing the pandemic’s impact on charitable work.
Meanwhile, other nonprofits are scrambling to keep up with surging demand. I've see pictures on the news of food banks expanding to arena-sized spaces and the camp near my childhood home converted to a support centre for the growing homeless population. The tragic need for these services breaks my heart, but I’m heartened at how many charity workers and volunteers have been quick to respond. Where there is grief, there can also be joy.