Burnout Is Bullshit.

by Liz Jansen, Executive Director

Jesus fucking Christ I’m tired. I’m tired of work. I’m tired of 2020. I’m tired of feeling helpless. I’m tired of being stuck inside. I’m tired of not being able to see my friends and family. I’m tired of racism. I’m tired of sexism. I’M FUCKING TIRED. And I’m saying this as someone with lots of privilege and no kids. 

This year, I was intimately introduced to exhaustion in a way I've never experienced before (again, thanks privilege). During this year of fatigue, I’ve realized how true this opening tweet from The Nap Ministry is. When I’m tired I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want. From big things like what I imagine for the future or the values I hope to uphold to tiny things like what I should eat for dinner or what show to watch--exhaustion snuffs out my ability to see and know myself.

I’m not the only one who’s tired. In 2019, the World Health Organization officially recognized burnout as an “occupational phenomenon” that results from “chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed.” A 2018 Gallup study that assessed 7,500 full-time employees found that 23% of employees reported feeling burned out at work “very often” or “always.” An additional 44% reported feeling burned out “sometimes.” Thanks to COVID-19, the boundaries between work and non-work have been completely demolished, making burnout and exhaustion key vibes on the 2020 mood board. 

This country is full of really tired, really burned out folks who have lost the ability to see and know themselves, and the nonprofit sector is a huge part of the problem. In the nonprofit sector, burnout is more than just common, it’s expected. It’s more than just expected, it’s lauded. Having more than you can ever accomplish in one day--each and every day--and being pulled in a million directions, that’s not just the norm, it’s a gold star that represents commitment to “the cause.”

It’s bullshit. 

When we’re burned out, we can’t see ourselves and we can’t see our communities. If we can’t see our communities, we will fail. Nonprofits that don’t center the voices and experiences of the most marginalized are just hobbies for the rich. To protect and advance the truly incredible work happening in the nonprofit sector--the inspiring people, the powerful movements, and the beautiful and radical ideas--we must rest. 

I say this as a burned out executive director who is very much a part of the problem. I send emails at ridiculous hours of the day. I work on weekends. I perpetuate false senses of urgency. One of the things this truly terrible year has taught me is that we, I, must take rest seriously. If working hard were the solution to our country’s most pressing problems, we would’ve solved them already. This year, let’s try another path. Let’s try getting some fucking rest.

Previous
Previous

A Spectrum of Grief

Next
Next

White People, Ya’ll Got Work to Do.