Hey friend,

Did I ever tell you I was nominated for homecoming queen?

Don’t hang up.

I remember it vaguely. Senior year of high school, a campus-wide announcement, and my name among those of five or six girls exalted by their peers and meant to represent…I don’t know, coming home or something.

I was genuinely shocked to be included. Not because I was a wallflower, a shy loner like the pre-makeover lead in an early-2000s teen movie. (Though, in fairness, that was the era; I have the Steve Maddens to prove it.) 

No, I was surprised because the whole homecoming court culture was an intensely social thing, rooted in notions of who’s accrued the most capital and become the most admired, and my mode of connecting with my peers didn’t look anything like what culture would have me believe passes for ‘popular.’ 

Because I didn’t do that alpha-group thing of roaming the school with a clique of fixed, fairly homogenous allies. Instead, save an anchoring bestie or two, I floated across social circles, had deep connections that went in and out like waves, and generally bopped around the connections of my young world. A shared childhood memory here, an inside joke there – my social network was a constellation of beautiful stars that shone bright on their own but never quite connected, and that was good enough for me. I never imagined that these disparate relations would amount to a critical mass of connections strong enough to put me in the category of potential social ‘queen.’

In the end, I didn’t win the crown, which I sometimes forget because it was memorable enough to be in such an unexpected contest to begin with. But each time I think back to that surprise nomination, I remember what didn’t quite add up about it, too:

If my world was so rich with social connection, why didn’t it feel like it?

Why, if I had this big, wonderful web of friends and acquaintances who clearly saw and appreciated me, did I feel a little lonely and unknown a fair chunk of the time?

Fast forward to today.

I’m supporting clients on initiatives rooted in humanity, empathy, and shared fate. I’m all-in on the premise of purpose-driven work and the other people who feel it, too. But every now and then, I’ll have a day that takes me right back to feeling like I’m floating around again. Rich with social circles and blessed with connections, some of whom might even nominate me, so to speak, for one of life’s homecoming courts. But still – a little lonely and unknown.

I don’t mean to sound mopey. I love my people, including all of you. And sensations of loneliness are a normal part of the human experience, especially today. Plus, these feelings are probably more intense for me now that I’m currently in this field, social as it may be, in a solo-worker capacity. 

All the same, I can’t help but wonder if there’s something we’re doing as a sector that’s taking me back to those high school days.

I have a client in our sector whose business is belonging. She looks at society’s deepest pain points around resources and survival and supports interventions that tell compromised communities – and the world – that, despite their plight, they are not without a home and a role in this life. They may have been knocked down, held back, or unseen, but they are part of the fabric of society. They belong.

And when I think about it, when I start to feel a little socially out of sorts in this space, when I know I’m surrounded by wonderful people but question whether there’s room for me at their table, it’s in moments when my own sense of communal belonging could use a boost. 

The slights to a sense of belonging tend to shapeshift. For me, over the years, it might have been a meeting-before-the-meeting that I wasn’t privy to. The change of a job title that suddenly changed my significance to someone I’d trusted for the long haul. Kind words but closed doors when it mattered most. Dynamics that could have been a launchpad for my growth but instead just made me feel small. Moments that, even when surrounded by friendly faces, made me question how accepted I was in this work. Moments our sector shouldn’t be about.

Because while it’s nice to feel superficially ‘popular’ with a packed calendar and buzzy LinkedIn feed, it’s essential to feel belonging for it to really click in our consciousness that we are welcome, understood, respected, and safe – especially if we’re hoping to build a world that makes others feel the same way.

When I’m busy trying to prove that I belong to our space’s gatekeepers, ladder-climbers, success stories, and power-wielders, when I’m getting sucked into the song and dance of trying to show that my work matters and is worthy of helping chase positive change, you know what I’m not doing?

Building the future.

Deepening my practice.

Pursuing new perspectives.

Growing teams and chasing dreams in support of uncovering something new for us all.

When our sense of unbelonging is activated, alllllllll of the energy that could actually convert into real progress and impact takes a back seat to a much more base social need: to feel good enough.

And haven’t we seen how dangerous that need can be at scale.

And so, not to sound like a walking Pinterest graphic (although, who am I kidding), I wonder if one simple way each of us can strengthen our sector in the short term is to commit to being the reason a peer in purpose-driven work feels truly included in it. Believing not only in the spirit, vibe, and scale of building connections – the homecoming court of it all – but in the deeper practice of really welcoming and knowing someone in a way that empowers them stay in the game and bring us their best.

If not for their sake or even your own, then for society’s itself.

With care and in community,

✨ If you like this letter and the content and community it brings, consider becoming an Issue Space Supporter with a one-time or ongoing gift to power our creations, collaborations, and community events. ✨

✨ And if you know someone else who would vibe with the Space — pass this letter along! ✨

In case you missed this week’s announcement and event opportunity, allow me to read you in:

You know how it feels like so many of us are in our solo groove at the moment? We might have lost roles or program funding this year, off-ramped out of corporate life in search of something new, or started building a side hustle based on a dream. However we got here, it feels like the impact sector is hardly insulated from the indie-worker influx sweeping the American workforce.

Merging business and impact is already a grind, right? And arguably, for the folks going it on their own, it’s even more to manage.

That’s why, in partnership with OPENHOUSE, the social innovation studio that brought you founder Nagela Dales’ voice on our Impact In Flux podcast episode, we’re hosting a dinner-workshop for the purpose professionals who are going it alone. Share a meal, air some opinions and experiences, and workshop what we need to manage our entrepreneurial ambitions specifically for purpose and impact.

See details and RSVP to join here.

Do you remember Michele Lampach, the fierce, brilliant immigration-lawyer-turned-corporate-impact-advocate who dropped wisdom and oneliners at Off the Clock this Summer? Well, her company Bobbie is headed to Brooklyn, NYC this weekend to host an activation that’s all about making some noise for America’s families.

If you’re local, head to Jane’s Carousel in Brooklyn Bridge Park and look for the green phone — it’s where you can record real stories and appeals for paid family leave and safer births for all, à la Bobbie’s new Chief Confidence Officer, Cardi B. There are chances to win prizes (including 3 months’ worth of paid leave furnished by Bobbie!) and families are welcome. Details and RSVP are here.

If you’d rather support from afar, you can call 732-QQ-CARDI (732-772-2734) to make your voice heard.

…here’s some tea that got spilled at ✨ Building Community ✨, last month’s virtual fireside chat with our co-host Re:Brand about building intentional career communities, working in purpose-led business, and layering parenting and care-taking into the mix:

💎 I emphasized that as impact work becomes harder to hold onto (hi, budget cuts and political attacks), it’s imperative that the experience of the work feels as good as possible so that folks are motivated to find more of it — which means investing in our people the way I’ve always wanted to through Issue Space.

💎 Cat Canada shared her belief that “people leave each other’s dream jobs every day”, and how that epiphany led to the Re:Brand Slack world to help those finders and seekers reach each other organically and authentically, informality and imperfections and all.

💎 I shared the troubling trend we’ve witnessed before with nonprofits and I see even more now with personal branding in the mix: duplication — building a new version of a thing that already exists just to make it your own — taking precedence over collaboration — teaming up as two distinct complements to go farther, together.

We also talked about being okay with what we don’t want as founders as much as what we do, my side-eye toward social media, and desperately needing more sleep.

Through a comedy of errors, this conversation wasn’t recorded (thank you, tech!) but there’s more real talk where it came from, if we want it. So let me know:

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 Susama Agarwala, an Associate Research Director in purposeful tech.

“I am a brown woman in tech.

I'm a brown woman with a funny name in tech.

Not quite a 'skinny kid with a funny name', but close.

Executive directors, PhD advisors, managers, and customers routinely stumble their way through my name, even after knowing me for years, or try to avoid calling me by it completely. I've worked most of my career in academia or industry, and felt like there was little I could do about it. I stood up for others when I could, self-advocated when I felt it wouldn't get me labeled as difficult, but mostly just felt frustrated.

I remember my first conference in the progressive space. We'd broken out into small groups to discuss something or another, and I found myself, for the first time in my professional life, in a group of mostly black and brown women, leaders all of them.

Earlier that day, one of the presenters had completely and totally mangled his co-founder's name, and I mentioned to the group how frustrating this was to see from the audience.

I have never felt the wagons circle around me so viscerally. These women may have mostly had names that could be pronounced by their English-speaking colleagues, but they knew disrespect when they saw it.

They also knew the difference between fighting to change the system and fighting to survive another day. And they knew that different tactics are needed for each and that both are needed to make the change we want to see.

In this moment, I was supported. Made not to feel alone. Reminded that picking and choosing my battles — including the mispronouncing of a name — is a way to survive, and not a sign of selling out or shame.

In connecting with these other women, there was no pity for the plight of this child of immigrants. Instead, we found a reminder of our shared struggle against a rainbow of microagressions and unity in spite of the fact that we may not ever have experienced what the others have lived.

I'd never had that kind of support happen to me in industry or academia. Frankly, I haven't felt it again in the progressive space, either. But it has to happen once before it can become a pattern. So I hold out hope.”

💌 Are you on the mailing list to receive this letter? If not, sign up here.

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

🤝 Wanna team up? Brands, organizations, or other entrepreneurs 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! Send a message on Signal at @issuespace.24, or email us at [email protected].