Burnt out, out the door, and out of f*&%s to give
January 17, 2022
In 2021, I decided to make the two biggest decisions I had ever made. I started saying ‘no’.
First, I left the job I’d had since college. Then, less than 6 months later. I left the highest-paying job I’d ever had. In both cases realizing that not saying ‘no’ would have been far worse for me than staying true to the course. Neither would have been possible without the pandemic as a backdrop.
What did suffer in both decisions was my own ego.
The first ‘no’ was to an almost decade-long commitment to an organization that helped shape me professionally and whose mission I still deeply believe in. I felt as though I’d met my cap, but it was the death of my own ego that ultimately sealed it. I believed that clearing the way for someone else and a new generation of staff entering would be better for the organization in the long run. What I failed to realize was that the multitudes of burnout from work, life, and now a pandemic had left its mark.
I did say ‘yes’ to my next job, excited and hopeful that a new endeavor would help me realize a vision for a job I had a passion for. I came to this position bringing in my style and the type of work-life balance I’d been developing for years. Ultimately, I hoped that having a job that granted me a new level of stability to my life financially, physically, and mentally would help keep my passion projects within focus.
I wasn’t able to make any of that possible and after only a few months, my second ‘no’ leapt out of my chest. I found myself at the end of a two-week time period where I had forgotten to eat every day until 3 or 4 PM. I found myself in a bit of shock and frustration, angry at myself for allowing my ship to run ashore, completely off course and with no way to get back on my route. It was perhaps the biggest wake-up call. The morning routine to slow down had gone out the window, met with a more frantic rush. The hour I allocated for lunch and a walk had squinched to almost nothing. The hard stops in the evening to make bread and cook food that I was excited to share with those I cared for were no longer a warming endeavor. Everything I’d built, including myself, was lost to a new and more demanding job. This time I came out a bit more defeated and plenty exhausted.
The death of this ego was less intentional. I felt I had failed the future I was planning and had lied to myself about what I could make possible in this new role. It was a ding I spent many weeks trying to sort through – and the belief in myself of being able to manifest and still “do the work” continues to be shaky.
That’s the why, but how did I say no? I found myself honestly reflecting on and looking forward to 2022, the year of my 30th birthday. Was this the person I wanted to bring into my next decade? Someone who forgot about their health, physical and mental? Someone who, because of the work stress and lack of time, snapped at their partner, unable to grant the measured patience that the person I love deserved? It surely wasn’t. I had to say no to this very tantalizing financial compensation because I couldn’t get back what I felt like I was losing: the version of myself most honest to my dreams, my heart, and my happiness.
It was a difficult decision and with no real plan for what comes next, I chose myself over the burnout engine by which I felt ground down.
And here we are. A few months later, motivated by the desire to build my own venture so that it fit what I wanted out of life, I made the leap to be an independent consultant. I no longer want to be forced to be molded into who I wasn’t and I refuse to do things that I either do not enjoy or weren’t going to build the skills I actually wanted.
So, what’s the takeaway I’m hoping for here? Part of it is for people in the nonprofit and organizing worlds to learn to say ‘no’, and when. But honestly, I think what I’m really sitting with is a fact. I see that workplaces are now enacting stronger and more beneficial policies. In fact, the benefits I had at both workplaces were actually competitive. I even had robust vacation and paid-time-off allowances, and the people I worked with were incredible.
But, and this is a big one, what’s the point of progressive employment policies if you don’t do a good job of implementing an environment in which as many of your staff as possible take advantage of them with freedom and a sense of ease? For years, I felt bad taking time off from work. Plus, the anxiety of the work I’d be met with upon my return from vacation did nothing to add to the relaxation I was supposed to feel while I was away physically.
And honestly, why are we demanding more out of staff in a pandemic? Why are we assuming the ideal situation for travel instead of assuming the worst-case scenario that a pandemic supersedes? Let’s take it a step further. Why do we continue to lie about the imbalance of power in salary negotiations, or the toll organizational restructuring has on staff, or how extractive the continued pursuit of productivity from staff is – and how all of this disproportionately affects staff based on their ability, race, gender, sexuality, class, and more?
I’ve cited one thing time and time again over the past few years. The following formula must be, in it’s entirety, positive.
Intention → Process → Outcome
As an organization or an employer, what are you doing to ensure that your intention is grounded in the right thing to do, that the process you implement is as inclusive and positive as possible, and that the outcome is as good as it can be?
Burning out made me realize that many of us aren’t alright. Some of us might say to ourselves that we’re alright and even believe it wholeheartedly. Others might even accept that we're actually struggling but that we are placed in this ‘just for now’ situation while we inadvertently find ourselves continuing to accept being burnt out for much longer. Or we might even say that we’re alright to other people, hoping they give us the honest truth we seek. None of it leads to fundamental shifts and changes for us individually and lets the residual burnout build. That makes recovery take even longer.
And the truth is, working in the nonprofit world has not been alright for some time, especially for staff who are Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC). Add to that the compounding brought on by the pandemic and many of us now have an elevated consciousness that has changed what we are willing to do and what we expect for it.
That’s what I hope this newsletter serves as:
A demand to organizations/employers for how to be doing better. To truly realize all these racial justice commitments and endeavors, and create a more tangibly positive environment for your employees.
A message to the people that move all this work forward, especially BIPOC folks like myself. For how to be kind to and demand better for yourself, and manifest the world you want to live in – and yes that includes if you want your workplace to be part of that.
A batch of reflections, thoughts, and ideas as my offering to the world in hopes that it helps someone along the way.
I truly believe in organizing for justice, peace, and transformation. I believe in the organizations wanting to do this not because of the entity but because of my steadfast belief in the people doing the work. If we are to transcend the pits of the reality we all operate in, the environment in which we organize must be grounded in humanity and center the people most impacted and those that live at the intersection of these injustices. There are too many young BIPOC staff coming into a “martyr for the work cause” mentality. If we’re all martyrs then who will survive?
As a consultant, I’ll center the young staff that have so often been the least invested in. I want to support dope organizations that are moving the world in the direction I want to live in. My role is to do it with honesty, transparency, accountability, and a commitment to breaking the cycle of burnout and martyrdom our movements don’t need. Let’s work together, to do better because we know we can.
With gratitude,
Michél
