The Highs and Lows of Working in a Nonprofit

There are real highs and lows for those of us working in the nonprofit field.

The lows include being challenged on a daily basis to meet the needs of the organization, in the most basic ways, things like insurance, office supplies, and oh yeah, staff. In my particular nonprofit, every expense is magnified in my mind. Even the most basic bills get reviewed for accuracy and for hidden charges. Before signing any contracts for services, I comb through pages of legal gobbldygook to ensure we're not going to get nailed three years down the road. We don't have the luxury of making stupid mistakes. And by the way, I hate finding out a few years later I didn't catch something that will now cost my nonprofit $29.95 extra per month. I growl out loud when that happens (which isn't very often).

The highs - and I do mean highs - make the disadvantages worth enduring. The other day, I was in a meeting about a program that the Brain Injury Association of Delaware (BIAD) piloted with several other nonprofit collaborators. The people in the room represented - for me - the long term leadership of "The BIAD Art Club". Check out pics of the program here. (You have to scroll all the way down to the bottom.) The energy in the room among the four of us (and our distant participant on conference call) was fabulous. Andrew, who serves Peach Tree Acres as its Activities Director, said something about our program that made my heart skip a beat: "For some of the [Art Club participants], this program was the biggest thing of their entire lives." Hearing this, I realized that through BIAD's Art Club, we helped people experience their own highs through personal achievement and recognition. I was struck at the weight of that statement. An immense feeling of humility washed over me.

When the lows get me down, I will think of Jody, who was terrified and nervous at the thought of showing her work in a professional gallery, but got dressed up, did her makeup, and bravely did it anyway. I will think of Hollis, who created a chalk pastel sunset so beautiful it took my breath away. I will think of Linda, who created gorgeous clouds and taught me how to use a paint brush. I will think of Bob, who loved his sister Jane so much he featured her in his artwork, in a manner of speaking. I will think of Tracey, who inspires me every day to continue to work to enhance the quality of life for everyone I meet - not just brain injury survivors - by looking at the whole person.

Administrative headaches will always be there. Funding will never be what we need it to be. And yet, these things are all peripheral to the importance of our mission. They will never stop me from working to make a difference.