Flashbacks

Me waiting for a video conference to begin, an image that will likely be replicated many times over before Coronavirus is over.

I graduated college in 2007. In January of 2008, I got my first nonprofit job at a sexual health education organization in Philadelphia as an Administrative Assistant. By December, I was out. My boss sat me down in her office and told me tearfully that the fundraiser we just had didn’t raise enough money and, as much as she wished otherwise, they couldn’t afford to keep me anymore.

I was making $24,000/year and it was two full years before I was employed full time again.

I don’t talk publicly about that very often. By now I have shaped a narrative for that time, since you’re not supposed to be un- or underemployed for so long and you’re not supposed to leave a job after a year. But I’m not actually here to talk about my resume. I’m here to talk about how now, today, I’m once again witnessing firsthand the decimation of the nonprofit economy.

The last time I wrote - mere days ago! - was right after Super Tuesday. Today is March 12 - the day after coronavirus really sunk in for me and many others. On Tuesday, my first event got cancelled. In the last 48 hours I have been in multiple meetings, conversations, text threads, Facebook groups that all ended up in one realization: we are all about to lose a lot of money we had been counting on. Galas and conferences are begin cancelled. Programming is getting pulled. Clients are stopping work indefinitely. Fundraising campaigns are being put on hold. Endowments are crashing with the stock market. One client I spoke to said they learned their insurance policy doesn’t cover losses from bacterial or viral infections. No one knows what to do and how to make up for these losses, no matter how short-term they may end up being.

In 2008, I was 23, in my first job, with no real understanding of what was happening. I didn’t understand how nonprofits were financed or how fundraising really worked. I knew we were “in a recession.” I knew jobs were low, banks were being bailed out, our economy was at risk. But this time I’m (almost) 35, having seen the sector re-stabilize, watching the tsunami come in from a 15th story balcony and actually, finally, understanding what it could mean.

Everything - I mean literally everything - feels like it is in free fall right now and none of us know if we can make the landing or how far down it is.

As an atheist Jew, I pray for two things: a government that this time bails out its people not businesses, and a philanthropy sector that steps up in ways we have never seen before.

I want foundations to think long and hard about their longevity. What is the value of existing in 100 years if we can’t make it through the next 10? Spend down. Give largely and easily. Accept applications from other foundations and minimize reporting. Trust us. Bail us out because I’m pretty sure we’re about to need to get bailed out.

Stay safe out there, everyone. And set up lots of video meetings, we’re in for a long haul.