03/17/2024
Let it burn
I’ve learned I’ve been throwing a bucket of water on a forest fire. If you know me from being in this line of work on the political and philanthropic side, you know I’ve been advocating for system changes when it comes to creating strategies to help our young adults and changing the way philanthropy supports grassroots organizations.
My emergency isn’t everyone else’s emergency. As an Executive Director and Founder of an Organization that works with Poverty, Criminality, and Violence. I am very close to the work in a way that most EDs are not. This isn’t a ploy to say I’m doing more work than anyone else. I’m saying my perspective is different.
I have young adults call me about issues they face, parents who are in the middle of crises, I deal with homelessness, food insecurity, fathers who have died, and mothers who are getting high. This isn’t even a drop in the bucket to the problems that call my phone.
At the same time, I have to be an accountant, graphic designer, teacher, program developer, implementer, grant writer, data consultant, COO, HR, advocate, collaborator, trainer, one-on-one life coach to student and parents, pick up and drop kids off, pay bills and payroll, make sure taxes are right, explain programs to people that don’t get them, change the way I talk to make grantors happy and partners, create ways to get to violent young adults, protect the brand, send email blast out about updates in the program, send thank you letters to donors, attend city council meetings, galas, dinners and lunches, fly out to explain our work and to get support and so much more.
I’ve been told to rest more times than I can count, and I’ve been told to make sure I am doing self care too. What I heard was let it burn. I’m learning today that’s not what is being said. I was asked if you have to pick up the phone or is it your choice. For so long, I believed I had to pick up the phone. I had to be there when no one else was there. The ship has to be put together and running on all cylinders so we can be able to face the waves that are seeking to destroy us.
That is what I still believe.
I’ve had some amazing people pull me to the side this weekend and tell me they can see burnout all over me. And I asked them what I should do. Collectively I’ve heard, don’t die under this weight, we need for the long hall.
I’ve been battling God with this, and he asks me, why won’t you let me burn it down? If there wasn’t a mass shooting at the rally, would they be looking as close as they are now? If Crown Center wasn’t a part of the build-up, would they be looking? If there wasn’t so much money coming to the city and the plague of violence wasn’t on the continuum hindering economic development, would they be looking? And the answer is, they wouldn’t. 
This issue isn’t new. We know it too well on the east side of Troost. But as long as it stayed on that side, it would never be big enough to raise over a million dollars in less than a week. People are scrambling to throw money and resources at it now, but for how long?
It’s so important to be in a relationship with God because you need to know when to get out of the way, even though everything in you tells you to step in. God will burn a forest down to grow it back stronger and make it more beautiful.
There is a new sacrifice I’m learning I have to deal with in this work. I must learn how to deal with the grief of watching it burn. I asked my mentor today after his sermon about the pain and how I’ll be glad when I desensitize to it. He prayed for me and asked God that I never desensitized to it. But that it becomes fuel to come back stronger in the next season. I have to embrace the heartache. God said everyone can’t handle it, but I created you to be able to. I have equipped you for the calling.