By Erika Chen, CCF leadership, Seattle-based activist, and former development professional

In September 2017, I was fired from my role as associate director of Invest in Youth in Seattle because I was outspoken about the organization’s need to diversify their volunteer tutors and board members. My passion for anti-racism work did not align with their investment in the status quo.

Of course they will deny this, and I did not win my wrongful termination complaint against them. But I know, as many other womxn of color know, what it’s like to be forced out of an organization for advocating for racial equity. I will not be gaslighted, and I will not stay silent.

In February 2019, I decided to leave my job as event and volunteer manager at Rainier Scholars in Seattle. Among my many reasons for quitting, donor-centrism and upholding systems of white supremacy within the organizational culture were among my top concerns.

While I had never been anything but professional and ethical, I was treated extremely poorly upon my resignation. I was told that my two weeks’ notice was not accepted, stripped of my passwords and keys, given a box to pack up my desk, and literally escorted from the building. And this came from an organization that has BIPOC leadership (still white founded and led by a white executive director).

In both of these situations, I knew I was being treated as a threat, as if I was dangerous — but I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until much later on that it dawned on me — they were scared of me because I am powerful.

There is power in my voice and in my truth — the power to unveil, the power to spread, the power to disrupt. As Michelle explains in her piece, fundraisers sit at the center of the stakeholder ecosystem and have influence in interpersonal relationships and strategic decision-making.

I was simply too influential to keep around once I became vocal about challenging the status quo.

I could go into so much detail about what exactly happened while I worked for each of these organizations, but I’ve already spent too much time focused on them. I’ve ranted to friends and family; I’ve filed complaints; I’ve written out exit interview questions and answers; I’ve debated putting them on blast; I’ve thought about the student program recipients at each org and wondered if I should continue to advocate for them; I’ve thought about friends of mine who were still working there; I’ve cried; I‘ve channeled my energy into volunteer projects because I felt like I would never be paid for fighting for racial equity; I’ve grappled with my own self worth.

And now, after being embraced, trusted, and heard by people who want to improve our sector, after finding a therapist who understands systems of oppression, and after realizing that some people and organizations do not deserve my time and effort because they have shown time and time again that they do not want to listen or change — I realized where I want to focus my efforts.

I want to focus on you. You, who are here to learn about community-centric fundraising and about bringing anti-racism practices to nonprofits. I’d rather refocus what I learned from these painful experiences to what I wish was talked about more in the nonprofit sector and fundraising field.

One of the painful lessons I learned was that the nonprofit sector is steeped in white supremacy. While missions are often focused on communities of color, the same values, care, and practices are not focused inward on organizational operations and culture.

I believe that making internal changes toward being more community-centric will result in necessary positive changes.

Tough lessons I’ve learn

From Invest in Youth

The tough lesson I learned:

Being in a leadership role doesn’t mean that the board will listen to you.

What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more:

In current nonprofit structures, the board of directors has an enormous amount of power and often do not have the lived or learned experiences necessary to understand systems of oppression and how they can manifest in nonprofit programming and operations. Boards don’t just need a single diversity training session, they need to be included with staff and volunteers in ongoing racial equity trainings and discussions. Can we also reimagine the role of the board? Of course governance and fiscal responsibility are important, but instead of positioning themselves as experts at the top of a pyramid, can the board imagine themselves as sponges absorbing ideas and knowledge from all stakeholders (staff, volunteers, program recipients)?

From Invest in Youth

The tough lesson I learned:

Having people you think are friends or allies on the board or in leadership will not keep your job safe.

What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more

Silence is deafening. If you want to be a friend, ally, co-conspirator in the work of advancing racial equity, community-centric fundraising or in really trying to get any improvements made, you will need to speak up in real time. You can’t wait and apologize later for not lending your support publicly. Start getting comfortable being uncomfortable. Don’t let the same person always be the only one who is speaking up or speaking out.

From Invest in Youth

The tough lesson I learned:

Any change (internal/external, program/operations) will be scrutinized, especially under the guise of how to communicate changes to donors.

What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more:

Nonprofits are so invested in the status quo because they know that donors are currently funding it. Change is feared because there is a worry that current revenue streams might dry up if a funder doesn’t agree with the change. This has led to donors being informed and even consulted when changes are being planned. But having money doesn’t mean that donors are experts on social problems or how to operate to solve them. We need to normalize making changes without worrying about donor input, and rather based on our missions, community needs, and addressing root causes.

From Invest in Youth

The tough lesson I learned:

Money is at the center of decision making, and individual donor contributions are often valued more than the physical, mental, and emotional labor of staff and volunteers.

What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more:

If we begin to value time and money equally, nonprofits will need to start prioritizing their employees and volunteers as much as donors. We need to stop seeing donors as revenue streams and employees as expenses. Our work would not be possible without our people. Staff should be viewed as contributors of time and talent — valued, paid well, and listened to. We need to start asking what employees and volunteers think about both our external facing programs and our internal operations and culture, and we need to listen and act to make changes.

From Invest in Youth

The tough lesson I learned:

Donor-centrism can lead to mission creep.

What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more:

Instead of focusing on root causes of social issues, nonprofits often focus on which programs can be sold to donors and funders. By prioritizing marketing and public image over community need, individual and collective missions start to manifest programs and operations that are pleasing to donors, leading to more images and sentiments of white saviorism, instead of applying those missions to addressing root causes and facing tough issues headon. We need to work together to shift the dynamics so that program design is based on community need and donors and funders are partners who will invest in these programs because they trust the nonprofits are led by and listening to the communities most directly affected.

From Rainier Scholars

The tough lesson I learned: A strong public image doesn’t equate to a positive workplace culture. What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more: Don’t ignore the red flags. When I was in the job market, I refused to apply if a salary range wasn’t listed. Rainier Scholars was the one exception I made because of their reputation, and I regret it. There were other red flags too, but I was so ready to be employed again, and I thought there was no way they could have such a stellar rep and employ so many POC unless they truly were great. I ended up having a much different experience than I expected.

From Rainier Scholars

The tough lesson I learned: Having BIPOC in leadership doesn’t guarantee that an organization will prioritize anti-racism. What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more: People in leadership positions often obtain those roles by conforming and excelling within the status quo. If you’re interested in advancing racial equity and moving toward community-centrism, you might need to build coalitions among staff members at all levels. Test the waters by sending articles around, asking for honest opinions over lunch, and talking about what you’re reading at the water cooler. See who might want to join and support you in advocating for change.

From Rainier Scholars

The tough lesson I learned: Using the word “equity” in a mission statement doesn’t mean the organization actually understands the meaning of the word and applies it to all aspects of their work. What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more: Words matter. Words are important. But their power is diminished when there are not equal values and actions taken with those words. How are our organizations’ missions, visions, and values statements actually embodied within our work — not just our programs, but in our fundraising, in our operations, in our internal workplace culture? How often do we examine these things?

From Rainier Scholars

The tough lesson I learned: Development departments love capitalism when it translates to sponsorship dollars. What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more: Actively seeking sponsorship dollars from companies that are exploiting workers (especially workers of color) or even turning a blind eye to these injustices is not okay. Coddling a donor or board member who commits macro and micro aggressions because they are your connection to a large sponsorship check is not okay. Development teams need to start creating and adhering to a code of ethics around what money is acceptable and mission-aligned. We currently operate as though all revenue is good for our organization, but what if that money came from a company that is creating widespread social problems (*cough Amazon cough*)? If donors/companies were truly aligned with our missions, would they still operate this way? If we accept their money without a second thought, aren’t we just perpetuating the injustice we are seeking to eliminate?

From Rainier Scholars

The tough lesson I learned: The widespread lack of HR departments in nonprofits (especially small and medium sized orgs) is really unhealthy. What I wish I had known, what advice I’d give, or what I wish is talked about more: Of course most nonprofits have their legal and payroll bases covered, but there is a tangible lack of focus on the human aspects of nonprofit work. If nonprofits have an HR department, they are more focused on protecting the agency from employees, rather than on the well-being of staff or how negative agency culture might be harming workers. I have seen fundraisers, who are naturally and skillfully inclined to be relationship-builders and listeners become the defacto HR department through hearing complaints, offering emotional support, and even elevating issues up the ladder when necessary. This should not be the role of fundraisers. Our sector needs to invest in equity-aligned HR in order to truly create inclusive workplaces.

What I want to see

While I could go on and on, the most salient thing that I learned is what I really want to see in the nonprofit sector and fundraising field.

I want to see more nonprofits founded and led by BIPOC, especially Black womxn. I want to see internal organizational culture and operations matching the organizational values.

When I first entered the ‘real world’ after college, I got a job in for-profit fundraising. I quickly saw how mission and profit were antithetical and how a toxic work environment brings everything down. I thought that switching from the for-profit sector to nonprofit work would be freeing, and that mission-driven organizations would be better.

But I’ll never forget what one of my grad school professors said: “Nonprofit is a tax status, not a business model.” Mission-driven orgs are still profit seeking, and I see a lot of the same toxicity that I saw in for-profit work.

I am learning that our sector has a lot of work to do in order to realign our missions and our operations, fundraising included. But I am also learning that the majority of folx agree and are excited to put in the effort to make these improvements.

On a more personal note, I have also learned to love and embrace the fact that I am a change-maker and a thought-leader and an activist. I have realized that I want to effect change on a larger scale than just with one nonprofit. I want to change the sector and change the world. I want these changes to happen quickly so others don’t have to go through similar experiences, but I also realize that many individuals will have to band together to make waves. And I believe in us. We can do this together.

Erika Chen

Erika Chen

Erika Chen (she/her) is a founding member of the Community-Centric Fundraising Seattle Chapter. She also volunteers her time as the Appeals Chair for the Seattle Human Rights Commission and as Vice President of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Access for AFP Advancement NW. She is a consultant focused on racial equity within nonprofit operations and organizational culture, with an emphasis on inclusion and employee happiness. She can be reached on Twitter at @erika_chen and on TikTok at @erikalianchen.