Hi friend,
How are you? Had enough winter here in the States? 🫠
I have to tell you something, and it might come as kind of a surprise.
Two months ago, I almost broke up with social impact work.
I know.
I didn’t go looking to end it; there was a pivot and an exploration that kind of got out of hand.
A few weeks, two paths, one big decision.
Let me tell you what happened.
In This Letter:
We don’t need to recap how wild 2025 was for our sector, right? Great. Because then I can just jump to my personal aftermath —
I had contractor’s whiplash, hustler’s burnout, and a real fear that trying to maintain my impact portfolio in its 2025 iteration was going to push me beyond what I could survive.
I needed to shake up the energy. And that meant trying to follow where my energy flowed now, regardless of the circumstances that brought me there.
Turns out, when it came to evolving my work life, my priority list was actually pretty clear:
Time with my family was a must. No globetrotting or forever-late nights for me.
I wanted to be able to continue nurturing Issue Space, whose following and community I adore and whose future and potential I can see.
Work that created positive change was by far my preference, because I still felt convicted that those of us privileged enough to choose what we do for a living owe it to the world to choose work that in some way does good.
And the part that the 2025 grind showed me — connecting directly with people about projects and possibilities was a must for me. A job where I built no relationships and then networked ““on my own time””? Wasn’t gonna move me.
So much of life is about picking the right kind of hard thing(s) to take on in a given moment. And mine had just changed.
After a marathon of diligent searching (both LinkedIn and soul), intense applying, divine timing, and kind recommendations, I somehow accomplished the impossible:
Late in 2025, smack in the era of think-pieces about the demise of corporate futures, sustainable careers, and Black women at work, I was blessed with not one but two job opportunities that turned my head and gave me a serious decision to make.
A dream problem – with a curveball.
Because one of those opportunities had little to do with impact at all.
So much of life is about picking the right kind of hard thing(s) to take on in a given moment. And mine had just changed.
One of the opportunities in front of me was squarely in the zone of reasonable expectation for someone who hasn’t shut up about purpose-driven work in literal years.
A nonprofit. I’d never worked at one before, but have felt their undeniable influence over all professionalized purpose-driven work because, hello. There was a mission that matters. One foot in the entertainment space (where, sometimes even I almost forget, I got my professional roots in the music biz). And a role that would keep me connected to people and partnership and creating positive offerings together, like I’d wanted.
The other role was decidedly for-profit, but that wasn’t the big differentiator. This organization, which had a focus on innovation and human insight (😍) was also about reaching people. It was staffed with people I personally knew to be purpose-seeking in their professional and personal lives. And it had the conditions for changemaking that the impact workforce often only dreams of – scale, resources, and direct access to massive audiences and cultural tastemakers.
But it wasn’t an impact organization.
It was the kind of place where ideas are welcome — authentically, I felt, after talking to leaders and team members on the team. The deal was that while they couldn’t promise I would only ever have purpose work on my plate, they were genuinely open to integrating my perspective and pursuing impact wherever it fit the brief in-hand.
And that kind of put me in a pinch.
Because now my simple job search refresh had become an existential question of – where did I actually think I could do the most good?
The team and their intent were sincere, but I was only one person potentially joining tens of thousands around the world. As many times as I’d encouraged a friend or mentee that their single voice could make a difference — and as strongly as I believe that, when the stars align, it really can — did I believe in this instance that the voice of change could be mine? And did I have the energy to carry that?
There was something so seductive about the potential and the ifs. If the moment was right and if the team was aligned and if the stakeholders agreed and if we rolled out everything just right — then the impact could be huge; blow-us-out-of-the-water big.
In the past, the romance and earnestness of that personal mission might have been enough to tip my scales. But today, after ten years of purpose work and continually receiving the message, through politics and beyond, that people rarely change exactly when and how you want them to, I couldn’t fake a me-against-the-world pretense. I would rather join a system that was bought in and on the same side.
But I still couldn’t decide.
So I did what I had to do.
I called several of my best gays.
My simple job search refresh had become an existential question of – where did I actually think I could do the most good?
Over the phone, one dear friend listened to me speak about the choice I had to make without judgment. And at the end of a long conversation, he said that he could sense my interest and gratitude about both opportunities – but when I spoke about the nonprofit, he couldn’t ignore “the passion” in my voice.
And he was right. They were two incredible opportunities. I felt ready for something new and excited about a change. But when it came down to it —
I was still in love.
With my sector, in all of its beautiful idealism and cringe perfectionism and frustrating hypocrisy and weirdness and annoying quirks. Even when we’re actively being nuts, there’s still so much about us that I adore.
I love that we care about the world and try, really try, not to look away from too many hard things.
I love that we’re always trying to be better.
I love that we hold space for each other to process and share and build and play.
I love how generous we are with our time, even when our calendars are screaming at us to calm tf down. 🥲
I love our stubborn optimism, and how great we are when we land on the right side of delulu.
I love the character of a people who can say ‘haters, to the left’ and keep trying to solve the big impossible problems that need solving, again and again.
I love that we’re always trying to rebalance the scales of life and dole out kinder lots to people.
I love that I don’t have to convince us that progress matters.
I love us, and I believe in us, and I want touches of our best work everywhere.
That is what my friend heard in my voice that day. And it’s what I feel today.
Ultimately, I chose the nonprofit. I believe there’s still so much we as a workforce – and I as one worker – can do to spread goodness and hope. I just don’t know if it can yet be at a place that isn’t bold about wanting to.
To choose a purpose-driven career is to embrace trust. You put one foot in front of the other and hope you’re on the right side of history but ultimately — there’s no blueprint. It’s a combination personal exploration and social experiment that you hope pans out for humanity. It’s a calling, or maybe an infatuation, but either way, it’s a serious choice. And I hope it’s one that continues to be kind to me.
And I hope that for you, too.
In community,
Where she landed
💪 If there’s one thing purpose-driven pros know how to do, it’s show up when we’re needed. And I could use your help! If you get value from the Issue Space Letter and the content and community it brings, you can support by inviting a colleague or friend to join us here. You can also become an ~ official ~ Issue Space Supporter with a gift or subscription. However you support, you are appreciated! ✨
You guys, let’s face it — I stay on LinkedIn.
Literally couldn’t find my way out if I tried. I feel like I’m wandering around a mall trying to find that one specific pair of double doors that’s gonna take me back to my car.
But while we’re here!
I came across a post that made me pause:
She’s not wrong.
I have read, or had, some version of this conversation here and there over these recent years as my network and I all ride the wave of workforce turbulence. Including in your impact work search stories, I’ve heard people admit that they don’t care if their temporary work makes impact so long as their overall career does, mutter their current ‘mainstream’ job under their breath as if they’re ashamed not to be something world-changing, or else announce with confidence that they’ll never do impact work again and skip off to higher-earning sectors. We’re kind of all over the place.
And while this post from the entrepreneur and investor Kathryn Finney isn’t about purpose-led work but passion-led work, it opens up similar questions about when most people should start considering using their careers for more than money — as soon as they can, or after they’ve ‘made it’?
It’s a hard and humbling thing to ponder.
You can click the excerpt to read the rest of the post, but pop back to this post online to leave your thoughts with the Space.
Last year, we binged Something Sweet. But now, some of you have requested something spicy. 🌶️🔥
Enter Unpopular Impact Opinions — a Space to share your takes on how our sector could be better. Let it out, and hope to inspire a decision-making changemaker who’s reading along.
Last month we heard from a nonprofit insider who wants to see more impact organizations acknowledge what they’re not great at, then step aside to make space for other existing nonprofits who do those things well. Fair enough!
This month, a growth specialist with purpose-work experience wonders where our sector’s candor went:
My unpopular opinion about the social impact space — and audience — is that many of us have become so afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing that we’ve accidentally created a culture of hesitation.
We spend so much energy trying to avoid harm, offense, missteps, or imperfect language that we sometimes end up doing…very little at all. And we need a framing shift.
I think there’s an enormous social pressure to avoid harm at all costs, and that comes from a good place. But it means that we also avoid action and proximity to the issues (and solutions).
I’d like to see us moving from a posture of being frozen to practicing and being participatory. And from this fear of contributing to the problem to taking a few ‘imperfect actions.’
Oof. As someone whose impact work often orbits around ideas and language, this is a point I wrestle with. I agree that the grip around perfection and purity needs to be loosened in the name of humility, grace, and getting things done. But I also appreciate a slow-down that leads with intention over reaction any day. The problem is that when that intention curdles into fear, paralysis, and hyper-judgment, it’s hard to see how that helps move anything along.
What do you think — are we slowing down to get things right, or long past that milestone and well into frozen territory? (“Let it gooooo, let it goooo!” — maybe that’s appropriate here! We should do a brand deal.)
You can read this letter online to leave your two cents in the comments, and you can submit your own unpopular opinion about impact work here.
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