Grab a snack, guys, this letter’s a long one.

If you’re not in the mood to go deep, use the links below this paragraph to jump ahead to other sections, including an uplifting new treat of a read called “Something Sweet.” 🥰 (Hit “Read Online” up top if you’re having trouble with the links!) But if you want to unpack something that’s been on my mind and under my skin in impact work lately, scroll on and stay with me…

Jump ahead:

• Something Sweet

• In Case You Missed It

• Your Space

• And With That…

First of all — how are you?

I’m okay. But I need a minute to share something that’s been nagging at me.

You might have noticed that I’ve made it a point to keep Issue Space an optimistic corner of the Internet. Some might say…relentlessly optimistic. 🤨

While I’ve never been one to Pollyanna the people (toxic positivity is a pet peeve), I do believe that optimism is a skill you cultivate. Specifically, it’s the building of a trust muscle – in the future, in others, in the universe (or your faith), and in yourself.

Keeping any muscle in shape is a discipline; it’s a choice. Imagine working in this field, which basically boils down to looking at the worst things in the world and going, “…Sure, let’s give changing that a shot!”, without the ability to tap into optimism. Why even try to make things better? Why even get up and face the day?

So yes. I’ve made a choice to practice positivity in Issue Space and beyond.

And of course – I’m also human. I’m experiencing the same shifting world and vulnerable social change landscape as anyone else, and I’m stumbling upon my own reframes and realizations along the way.

But for the most part I try to keep things cute around here. As in, constructive, kind, and hopefully fun and a little bit deep without wearing you out. A friendly refresher from – not mirror of – the anguish, intensity, and outrage you’re faced with elsewhere in your newsfeeds and across your desks.

To me, the chance to feel positive, to restore yourself while bulking up that trust muscle, is a reprieve and a gift, especially in impact work.

So I can’t quite figure out why some folks want me to act angrier.

Maybe it’s not as simple as that. But that’s the way it feels, and it’s staying with me.

First, a colleague seemed to try to goad me into being more controversial with the Issue Space approach. How, specifically, I’m not quite sure; I just sensed through his subtle-ish steers that he was disappointed that the vibe veered more toward inspiring-note-on-your-teabag than scathing-political-takedown. 🙃 

A few months later, a mentor suggested that I drop my community of cross-sector professional changemakers (truly, the whole premise of the Space 🥲) in favor of edgier activists. But as they talked, I couldn’t help wondering…what was wrong with this community, where social impact workers of all kinds are seen as welcome and important? Did we all have to cosplay the same kind of changemaker to seem legit? And did I really want Issue Space to become the arbiter of what ‘counts’ as true advocacy? I checked my internal excitement-to-exhaustion meter and it appeared that I did not.

In fairness, it’s not as though I’m clueless about where these well-intentioned tips are coming from. Look around, and there is noooooo shortage of reasons to freak out and pop off. No one would fault a social impact pro for taking a harsh tone to the times we’re in, or for trying to build a platform behind it.

And let’s face it, people bond over what sucks. Whether they do so to laugh or to cry, the things we can’t stand can be a powerful bonding mechanism. (Though I wouldn’t recommend only defining yourself by the things you don’t like — look around the United States, and you can see what that strategy does to people.)

To be honest, even I envisioned a spicier platform when I was first dreaming up Issue Space. It’s only as I watched the world steadily become an uglier place that I wondered — why not try something a little softer than cynicism? 

And while, on a personal level, of course I’ve felt anger and negativity — I’m alive and watching the same horrors you are — it might feel okay to indulge in optimism in this Space because, as social impact pros, our work itself provides an outlet for engaging with important issues deeply and directly. Maybe if we didn’t have those other opportunities to do the work we’re called to, we’d only crave intensity, even / especially the negative kind, to help us feel tapped in.

All of this could be totally true. But the bottom line is — if what’s pouring out of me naturally and consistently through Issue Space is something closer to warmth and good humor than agitation or intensity, is that not also of value? It’s not everything we need to change the world, but in certain moments and quieter contexts, couldn’t it be just enough for us?

I’ve tried to figure out why my colleagues’ prompts (in fairness, the only two like this I’ve heard) raised my defenses and bummed me out. And I think it has to do, as it so often does, with feeling unseen.

It makes me think about this essay I wrote. The piece is about doing incremental work and building soft, supportive spaces for social impact pros to feel and heal – but the accompanying artwork is of a Black woman yelling in the streets.

Do I understand why the two things feel related? Of course. Probably all social change is built on the shoulders of the ‘good troublemakers’ who make noise when it counts.

But my offering in that moment was care, not confrontation. The community I spoke of included people whose contributions might never be directly visible in the public eye (the swaths of service employees let go from the dismantled civilian agencies of late come to mind). And in both that artwork and the comments of my colleagues, it’s like those things weren’t seen, or else weren’t good enough to count.

In the past, I might have felt fine with, or even proud of, the image in that article. I would have seen it as a legitimizer or an aspiration. But now, it rings a little false every time I go to grab that link. Because while it looks strong, strength is not always where I am in this work these days, at least not strength of that sort. At any given moment, I might feel mournful, reflective, worried, heartbroken, frustrated, compassionate, afraid, torn, exhausted, or overwhelmed – all things far from fierce and ready to let someone have it. All things that need tending to in a softer, gentler way.

I’m passionate about what’s right, but I’m also vulnerable, and I’m okay with that. Unlike the woman in that artwork, I’m not compelled to exist in an eternal state of intensity for others to absorb. And I don’t have to accept the implication that I need to if I want this Space to count.

Not everyone is going to get where I’m coming from with my airy, nurturing approach to Issue Space. Maybe they will one day, or maybe by then the Space will have already evolved into something totally new. (Here’s hoping! I love a good evolution. ✨) All I know is that I hope in this unsettling and historic moment, we social impact pros can see and value each other in our love and not only our rage, in our kind gestures as well as our provocations, and in our hopefulness in addition to our grief.

We deserve to feel it all.

With love — and positivity,

Something Sweet

So often, “holding space” in social impact means working through the hard stuff. But we owe it to ourselves to capture the good times, too. The Something Sweet series highlights uplifting moments and memories in impact work shared by members of the Issue Space community.

In this edition, we hear from Anne, communications specialist, New York.

The Flannel Shirt Off His Back

“It was my last door knock of the day on a presidential campaign. I was canvassing alone — not exactly advised, but I was 22, trying to prove myself, and determined to hit my quota. I was deep in rural New Hampshire, where showing up with New York plates to tell people how to vote wasn’t exactly welcomed with open arms.

Conscious of all that, I pulled up to a house in the middle of nowhere, spotted two men outside, put on my brightest smile… and immediately realized I had locked my keys, wallet, phone, and jacket in the car.

Do I tell them? Does it make me look vulnerable? Do I even have another option?

In a moment of surrender, I confessed mid-campaign spiel. Turns out, Ronnie and Fletcher weren’t even the people on my list. They had just bought the house. And — in a twist I couldn’t have made up — they were locked out too, waiting on someone to bring their keys.

They could’ve easily brushed me off. I was a stranger, an outsider, and I had nothing to offer but awkwardness and a clipboard. But instead, they called their daughter and 3-year-old grandson over to put me at ease. And when AAA gave me a long wait time, they phoned their friend from the local auto shop. He showed up with a coat hanger, worked his magic, and popped my car open.

As the sun started to set, Ronnie quite literally gave me the flannel shirt off his back to keep warm. And yes, they even humored my campaign script. They got the info on registering to vote at their new address, and promised they would vote. 

This all could have gone very differently. I carry privilege as a white woman, and that shapes how I move through the world and social impact work.

Still, I often go back to this story. I had become laser-focused on meeting a quota, but instead I was smacked in the face with the most fundamental piece of this work: being decent to people.

It interrupted my urgency — the kind that fuels so much of this work — and reminded me that impact isn’t always strategic or scalable. 

Sometimes, it’s just two strangers giving a damn.”

Is there a moment from your social impact work that makes you smile? To submit a story to the Something Sweet series, please use this form.

In Case You Missed It

You all are the best participants in my weekly question series. This is where I ask you things on Instagram, usually on a Tuesday, about how we all think and feel about work, media, impact, and ourselves. I’m always tickled by the results, which are never 100% what I expected.

Watch a quick reel on some Q&As we’ve exchanged to date, and reach out to collaborate on new inquiries for the group:

Your Space

If you haven’t already, please consider taking our ✨ 6-question Welcome Survey. ✨ It takes a minute or two to complete, and allows you to anonymously answer as many questions as you like about:

• What kind of social impact work you do, if you’re in the field;

• What kind of organization you work in;

• What you’re seeking from Issue Space; and

• Where in the world you and your work are based

It’s a quickie and it helps — why not give it a look?

And With That…

Remember…

@candidly.carly

Join the Space

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🎧 Hear the Issue Space podcast on Apple, Spotify, YouTube, and these platforms. We feature diverse social impact pros on the lived experience of social change work.

🤝 Wanna team up? Brands or organizations who might connect with our community can send partnership inquiries to [email protected].

🗣️  Have an insight about life in the business of impact or an idea for the Space? We’d love to hear from you! Hit that button and get in touch! 👇