By Kate Greenhouse, fundraising copywriter and baby mom in Brooklyn

…as of March 2023, only 27% of civilian workers had access to paid family leave through their employer. Among the lowest-paid people, that number shrinks to just 6%. Cue the mom rage.

I just had a baby. And by “had a baby,” I mean my body is now a life portal; I wield an ancient human magic, and I write that with the utmost sincerity. 

And I’m also a fundraising writer, apparently, as the end of my paid family leave so rudely reminded me. 

This shift in my life, which feels like both the most monumental and mundane thing in the world, has me leaning deep into care. At home, care means wiping nostrils and butt cheeks, carting mountains of spit-up stains to the laundromat, smiling and cooing when I’d really rather not until he does it first, then it’s all I can think about. Kissing away salty tears. Care in my partnership, which means tending to big emotions—mine and my partner’s—feeling through them, surfing the waves of parenthood (which includes getting back on the board after they wipe us out). It’s completely all encompassing.

I got 16 weeks of Paid Family Leave (PFL)—seven of which were fully paid by my employer, the rest of which were paid by New York state at 67% of my income. My partner got 18 weeks fully paid (we have his union to thank for that).

But as of March 2023, only 27% of civilian workers had access to paid family leave through their employer. Among the lowest-paid people, that number shrinks to just 6%. Cue the mom rage.

There’s the physical healing that needs to happen in the weeks after giving birth, no matter the circumstances. Up to 90% of people who give birth vaginally have some degree of perineal tearing. In 2022, 33.9% of births resulted in a Cesarean section, a.k.a. major abdominal surgery, the recovery from which one must do while caring for a newborn. 

There’s a metaphysical element of it, too. Giving birth prompted a tectonic shift in who I thought I was and what I thought I was capable of. 

I needed to stay wholly wrapped in the absolute wonder of it all… Of bodies coming out of bodies, of life itself. 

And after spending my whole life within an Imperialist White Supremacist Capitalist Patriarchal system, where profit is more precious than life, everything felt even more upside down than usual. 

I needed every second of the time I got to process the vertigo.

Now it makes sense to me why so few people have access to PFL. Between forking out $2,400 a month for childcare and learning one in four childcare workers in NYC live in poverty … between nursing my perfect son and watching the murder of over 14,500 Palestinian children on my social media feeds, it’s so painfully obvious: American culture doesn’t really care about care.  

And now, I’m back at work. Good work, writing for an agency that fundraises for good causes. I fully acknowledge my privilege here. I’m married, I work remotely, and secured a spot at a lovely daycare just up the block. (Childcare costs are a whole different story.) But basic support shouldn’t feel like a privilege, it should be a given, especially in a sector that revolves around care and community… especially within the shift toward Community-Centric Fundraising. And in a system where our labor is our livelihood, it’s got to happen here. If we have to work to support our families, our work should support our families.

The most obvious step to take is establishing generous paid family leave policies across the sector. Give birthing people and their families time to heal, process, and bond before returning to work—and don’t be stingy about it. Paid family leave can mean all sorts of things, too, from caring for an ailing parent to managing a partner’s health crisis.

Another is to do away with back-to-office mandates. Let parents do laundry during lunch, pump during meetings, and spend would-be commuting time (and money) with their families. 

I could keep going: adequate healthcare plans, adequate pay, and adequate sick days and paid time off for pregnancy-related doctor appointments. And while advocates fight for things like guaranteed PFL, federal childcare reform, prenatal and maternal mental healthcare, abortion care, etc., on a state and federal scale, employers are responsible for policies that seriously impact our daily lives now. As such, our employers—even well-meaning, cash-strapped nonprofits—have the responsibility to support the lives of their employees. 

It’s surprising to me that in the latest report on Adopting Community-Centric Fundraising, there was a slight imbalance in the implementation of external-facing CCF policies and internal ones that promote equity within their own ranks. If we’re committed to seeing CCF through, we need to be all-in. 

As a life portal goddess, I believe that our organizations can be a microcosm of change—a fractal of it. If we structure our organizations around care, we prove that it works. We can shake the table. 

If you’re in a position to enact these care-oriented policies, do it. 

And if not, unionize.