As the health and economic toll of the coronavirus becomes more clear, those of us in the foundation world have little idea how challenging these days are for nonprofit executive directors and their staffs. To truly understand what response foundations need to provide, we must put ourselves in the shoes of the nonprofits doing essential work. This is what leaders and staff of nonprofits are currently dealing with:
Widespread financial distress. In a recent La Piana survey of more than 400 nonprofits, 26 percent had lost 50 to 100 percent of their revenue, and 44 percent had lost up to 49 percent.
Changed needs for mission-related activities. Nonprofits didn’t budget for skyrocketing increases in demand or plan a pivot in delivery, so they face many unexpected additional expenses.
Staffing and compensation cuts. In the La Piana survey, 55 percent of nonprofits said it was likely they would have to make further reductions beyond what they had in recent weeks.
Pervasive guilt. Executive directors and staff members have described crushing guilt as they try to reconcile the relative stability they have compared with the near-complete instability for those their organizations serve.
Stress. Nonprofit leaders are also dealing with all the upended routines, fear, and confusion the rest of us are in their personal lives.
When I think about shouldering these difficulties, I know I wouldn’t last much longer than the time we’ve been in this crisis. Maybe a few more weeks. Most nonprofit executive directors have done three months’ worth of work in the last three weeks. It probably feels like three years’ worth. Not many people will be able to continue in these circumstances for an extended period.
We all know we’re dealing with an unpredictable global health crisis and the resulting protracted economic crisis.
Making the worst crises in our lifetimes even worse are deep problems that have long been simmering — problems that could devastate the nonprofit world for years beyond Covid-19:
Mass burnout and deterioration of mental health across the nonprofit work force. Nonprofit executive directors have told me and others that they are most concerned about their staffs’ well-being.
Nonprofit executive directors know they are pushing themselves and their staff members to the limit to step up for the people they serve in a time of unprecedented need. Nonprofit workers’ deep commitment to those they serve is not one they will betray. They are making smart choices and saying no to many requests they can’t address, but even so, the stress is building fast.
If we don’t do something drastically bigger and supportive than simply promising to preserve existing funding, burnout and exhaustion will hit the nonprofit work force soon and potentially en masse.
Exodus of experienced nonprofit professionals. At most companies, when workers face burnout or exhaustion, they have ample health insurance that allows them to seek medical treatment. Sometimes they are eligible to take a compassionate leave or a sabbatical, and there are other professionals with the skills to take on the roles and responsibilities of whoever needs to step back and recover his or her health.
In those circumstances, burnout does not necessarily mean leaving your job. This level of support rarely if ever exists for the majority of nonprofit professionals. When they burn out, they have to quit. When they know they need better medical benefits, they seek jobs in corporate America.
Most nonprofit staff members don’t have access to sabbaticals or enough savings to take unpaid time off. Even in a good fundraising year, most nonprofits don’t have the resources to support staff members going through burnout or severe mental-health challenges. When people start to burn out, they will most likely quit because they face unsustainable challenges.
We are at risk of losing far too many talented, experienced, knowledgeable, valuable people who do essential work in our communities. This is, of course, on top of the already recognized impending generational leadership shift.
Frustration among nonprofit leaders about the foundation world. This issue isn’t new. As Jennifer Niklaus, chief impact officer at the American Leadership Forum Silicon Valley and a former mental-health practitioner, told me recently, “The anger and resentment existed pre-Covid. It is old and indigenous to our sector. Now the wheels are off the bus, all inequities are laid bare, and the fury is only made more strong.”
In the Covid-19 era, it is now boiling over to the point where I’m starting to hear it expressed out loud and directly from nonprofit professionals who would never previously have dreamed of being so blunt and honest about this topic (especially in forums including grant makers).
We all know that nonprofits and foundations are not on the same side, or, if we believe we are, we certainly don’t act like it. Until now, the rift has been politely referred to as “power dynamics” and ignored or buried away by nonprofits because it wasn’t worth it to risk funding by telling the full story.
Now the division between foundations and nonprofits is a bright, clear inequity that can’t be ignored and doesn’t have a name; it’s just “tears of anger and bitterness,” as one executive director recently described it.
Nonprofit professionals who abruptly depart the field will likely be leaving with disillusionment and feelings of betrayal. How this plays out will shape the cohesion and effectiveness of philanthropy. After all, the communities that foundations want to support trust nonprofit professionals more than they have ever trusted grant makers.
In a recent BBC article about the health-care crisis, Rita Nakashima Brock, senior vice president at Volunteers of America, noted that “one of the most toxic forms of moral injury is betrayal. ... Our health care workers are working to save people, but they have been betrayed by the government’s inadequate response.”
If we switch out a few words, we have a very nearly perfect description of what is starting to happen in our industry: Our nonprofit workers are working to save communities, but they have been betrayed by philanthropy’s inadequate response.
This crisis of existential division is coming unless we do something to stop it. We — foundation staff and boards — must understand that we can’t close this dangerous gap as long as we give higher priority to protecting our endowments and congratulate ourselves on “being responsive” by providing flexibility and general operating support (things we should have been doing all along) while nonprofits risk their very existence and their staffs’ mental and physical health to support the communities we all claim to serve.
How will grant makers bridge the gaping hole between us and them? Can we truly stand in solidarity with our nonprofit colleagues? How does this crisis and the response bring us closer and not rip us apart?
The responsibility rests with grant makers and must go beyond spending more than the legally required minimum of 5 percent of assets this year. It might also include:
- Fully funding nonprofits — not just keeping our commitments but reaching out to other grant makers to ensure that nonprofits have enough money to keep or rehire their staffs to do the additional demanding work needed this year.
- Demonstrating the value we and our communities place on the nonprofit work force by extending funding to provide the same level of benefits, bonuses, and — dare I say — competitive salaries that foundation staff are immensely grateful for in this period of instability.
- Looking outside our portfolios and existing grantee lists to fund the grassroots organizations most trusted by people of color. We don’t need more data to identify these organizations; they are those we knew were already getting too few resources before the pandemic.
- Shunning the need for copious praise and instead looking at every process or practice we have to ensure we immediately and continually show appreciation for our nonprofit colleagues’ unfaltering herculean efforts and sacrifices.
We don’t have to allow the division between foundations and nonprofits to persist.
We can be the generation of foundation professionals to step over the lines drawn by power dynamics to link arms with our nonprofit peers. We can stand in solidarity with the people who do the groundwork that allows foundations to meet their missions.
