Yolanda Contreras Archive

Pay me like a white man: Support BIPOC creatives and professionals through tipping

We all know that white men are at the top of the career food chain when it comes to earning power — with white women being a close second. (You need one more sentence, something giving an opinion or more info. Right now, it reads as two separate observations. So you need to supply the “so what” bitty 🙂 )

There are many ways to tackle this inequity, and I will present a few of my humble offerings towards this goal.

As I’ve grown as a writer, I find that more and more (white) people are sharing my work, whether it be in newsletters, curricula, or lesson plans. While that is amazing and gets my name out there, it doesn’t always turn into a type of quantifiable success. BIPOC writers don’t generally see extra income from the sharing of our work.


What working at a flat organization has taught me about white supremacy

We are all familiar with how ‘standard’ businesses, organizations, and nonprofits typically operate. The structure usually resembles a pyramid — the base staff of employees start at the bottom, progress up in status until they reach the top, which usually consists of a CEO and/or executive team.

But what happens when a business or organization adopts a non-hierarchical or flat structure? Flat structures don’t have a pyramid — there are no levels of management, employees are part of the decision-making process, and everyone typically makes the same amount of money.


It’s pronounced ‘zeen’! (How the world of zines inadvertently prepared me for a career in nonprofit fundraising)

Zines are usually categorized as ephemera, something that exists only briefly or for a short period of time.

Zines are pronounced zeen, short for magazine, and are self-published, not widely distributed, and cost very little. As small and temporary as they initially seem, zines have actually been around for decades and can have the power to provide a voice to those who are not normally heard.


Can anybody hear me? How white nonprofit writing standards erase BIPOC voices — and why that is definitely not OK

Writing has always been my saving grace. I grew up an introverted only child, and sometimes, I could only communicate through my writing.

My love of writing grew over the years, especially when I went full-force into zine creation in highschool. I loved the fact that I could create, print and distribute my own words, without dilution, to the masses. It became my form of therapy, to salve the scars left behind from very real pre-existing generational trauma to also new trauma.