All That You Change, Changes You: The First 100 Days of Leadership Transformation

Reviewing the headlines of this past quarter I’m overwhelmed at the scale of oppression. When systems bar entry to you, actively devalue your contributions, and expect you to uphold harmful systems at the risk of your livelihood – it makes leadership for the equity-deserving not only unsustainable, but unjust. We’re seeing high turnover across the Community Impact Sector especially among queer and racialized leaders. In my leadership consultancy Shaping Change, I’ve been struggling with the ethics of coaching diverse leaders into executive roles that I know are likely to be detrimental to their well-being.

I’m noticing a pattern of widespread burnout in Executive Director roles, and admittedly I’m no exception. I wonder how can we facilitate change in a compassionate way that tends to our individual and collective flourishing? I want to tell you about the leadership transition at IONS, its effects organizationally and personally, and what we’ve learned. I know I’m not alone in this experience, and I hope that in sharing this story, you’ll be better prepared to weather leadership changes.

TLDR; Lessons learned:

• One person can’t do it all: Collective leadership eases transitions by distributing areas of work using a strength-based approach.
• We take care of each other: The Community Impact Sector consistently shows up for each other. We have a network of support from peers, we just need to do the hard thing and ask for help.
• Budget Transparency is key: All staff and board members should have financial literacy basics to help identify issues proactively and support collaboration.
• Diversify revenue streams: Seek new partnerships with values-aligned funders to mitigate reliance on a primary source.
• Funding Advocacy: Seek long-term funding commitments and advocate for more core funding to support project development rather than pilots.
• Succession readiness: Build a succession plan to have in place for if a restructuring is necessary because of funding shortfalls.

December: Day One

The IONS staff welcome me to the team, prepared with an onboarding course, newly approved employee handbook, and back-to-back meetings. I notice people are using the phrase “drinking from a fire hose” a lot, and I can tell they are trying not to overwhelm me. Kristen is so generous and thoughtful about the leadership handover. I’m grateful for Lisa’s organizational skills handling my calendar, board coordination, and reporting deadlines. I appreciate having dependable teammates caring for IONS’ relationships.

I start working on shifting over the financial signing authorities and hit roadblocks at every level of the system. I learn that a past accounting error that was missed during subsequent audits has eliminated the deferred revenues budgeted for this fiscals’ operations. Saddled with this predicament, the IONS’ team made heroic efforts to fundraise, balance the budget, take on more work instead of outsourcing, and revamp financial processes for accuracy and accountability. Meanwhile, the new Nova Scotia government announces a cabinet and department shuffle requiring new relationship building with our partners.

I meet with board chairs and they request a draft budget in January. I won’t have enough information to create the budget until I can confirm some project revenues, and the change in ministerial appointments is delaying our core funding contract. I’m confident we’ll get the details of what’s been approved by the end of January.

During December, I’ve developed intermittent chest pain, and I take a cardiac stress test. I’m relieved to be starting during IONS’ reflection season and shortly before the winter holiday break, so I will have some time to rest.

January: New World Order

I learned that the organization relies heavily on project funding, which isn’t surprising in this industry, but unfortunately – most of our funding agreements end March 31. I know that if I’m going to get a draft budget done fast, I can’t be derailed by the news cycle. I deactivate my social media accounts ahead of the American inauguration.

I was projecting a deficit even if our core funders renew their agreements with us. Thankfully, the IONS team had already reached out to potential funders, but we need to secure funding commitments with less than 90 days lead time and decisions move slowly. Leaders at parallel organizations jump in to help me develop partnerships quickly to extend our cashflow. I’m especially concerned about Jeanine, as her permanent residency application is tied to her work with us. Thankfully, Jeanine’s experience and enthusiasm for youth development is key to negotiating a huge opportunity to support youth employment in Nova Scotia’s Community Impact Sector. I explain to a current funder that delivering training for the next several years is out of scope of our agreement and we would need additional support.

My cardiology test is clear – the chest pain is likely stress related. I get an eye exam for blurred vision, but I’m just spending too much time looking at screens. I go shopping and notice the armed guards, which reminds me of Octavia Butler’s Parables of the Sower. I feel anxious about travelling internationally because I don’t know what gender marker is safe to list on my passport.

February: the Longest Month

I can see the systems collapse in real time while DOGE is dismantling the American government. I’m realizing the scale of fascism when neo nazi’s are the second strongest party elected in Germany, the US Institute of Peace is shuttered, USAID is defunded, unspeakable mass deportations begin, and the American president is firing so many staff and boards of institutions that I can’t keep track. Meanwhile, the Nova Scotia government introduces a bill to amend the civil service act, giving itself the power to fire senior civil servants and the auditor general without cause. It feels futile trying to build governance training when the systems we’re putting so much time into complying with are caving in.

I start the difficult process of communicating the projected deficit internally. I don’t know what to tell the team to keep them motivated when they know our jobs are at risk. I let our government funders know about the situation to see if they can confirm funding, but they no longer have mandate letters, further slowing approvals.

Our funders are sympathetic to the fact that it will be impossible for me to draft a workplan for next year without any funding confirmed, and they help connect us with other opportunities. A staffer says she’s impressed I’m not more panicked. I’ve seen this before, I’m just exhausted. We receive partial funding on a project proposal the IONS team submitted, confirming about 10% of the budget. Only a third can be used for salaries and overhead, but we have something to work with.

I’m so relieved that Teri has a lot of experience coordinating restructurings in the sector and helps me develop a thoughtful strategy with our HR consultant. I’m still trying to fundraise, and I’m grateful the team is supportive and compassionate with their suggestions. It’s hard to find a balance between communicating about the process without panicking anyone. And I don’t think I found it. Remarkably, all our deliverables are being met. Lydia and Haley are putting out tons of engaging content. Teri and Alexandra are delivering new high-quality training and resources. Diane is on parental leave yet still offers critical insight on the team’s needs, systems, and sector trends and opportunities. I’m so impressed with this team.

Meanwhile, the American state department stops issuing passports with an x and trans people are left without identification or the ability to leave the country. As the US president blames a plane crash on DEI, I fly to Toronto support family after a surgery. The Pearson airplane accident cancels my flight home. Travel insurance doesn’t have a mechanism to rebook me because of my gender marker. Once I finally get a flight, I’m called to the gate where the attendant misgenders me while reprinting my boarding pass to match my ID.

My medication stops working. I develop an eye twitch. My friends say they’re worried about me.

March Madness

A large nonprofit delivering front-line services to Nova Scotians declares bankruptcy. The IONS team look for budget efficiencies while aligning our confirmed and pending deliverables in a work planning session. My colleagues help me design role outlines so I can assess how their skills and goals align with IONS’ future needs. This seems impossible when the future is so uncertain. We finish the day’s session celebrating each other’s accomplishments at IONS. I hope that regardless of the outcome, they will have more confidence in their abilities and a better chance of landing another position in the sector.

The team debriefs to discuss the restructuring process and their well-being while I’m in a meeting with an HR lawyer. I present three budget scenarios a week in advance of the board’s decision, which will result in layoffs. I need to make sure they decide in time for me to deliver severance before the new fiscal. Deciding on the livelihoods of my team gives me a constant pit in my stomach; I’m not sleeping well. This is where leadership is very isolating.

The morning of the budget decision, I learn one of our funders won’t renew our core funding – 30% of our projected revenues. I reach out to my associated contacts in desperation. I get a text from the funder during the board meeting that they might be able to offer less than a quarter of what we had previously.

A board member joins me for a full day of individual notice meetings the staff to share what the budget decision means for their role. At the end of the day, I circulate the new organization structure to the team. The following day I share the redistribution of the workload. We’re all going to miss the team members we couldn’t retain. I know this is the lowest point. I promise myself that things will feel better by the summer.

I take a wellness day the next day. I have blood work, shots, a doctor’s appointment, and a specialist appointment. A funder calls me urgently asking for me to sign some documents asap. I return her call on my way to the hospital. My mom calls me to tell me my aunt is dying. I say it’s allergies, but my eyes are always watering from the grief.

My executive functioning is at an all-time low, but I’m blessed to have Lydia to collaborate on making sense of these last few months.

At home, I plant a flower garden.

April Showers bring May Flowers

While unforeseeable, these systems failures are predictable and very common among community serving organizations. Organizations struggle with mission creep as they cobble together admin fees on project grants to cover core operations and staff salaries. The Nonprofit Industrial Complex is burning out staff at a record pace with impossible expectations to solve the problems created by late-stage capitalism, colonialism, and a white supremacist patriarchy. Equity-deserving leaders carry even greater pressure to implement systems change while scrambling to survive personally and professionally.

Here’s what I know about burnout: you can’t just take time off – the only remedy is systemic change. These are precarious times, and I’m inspired by the collaboration of organizations across Nova Scotia to solve housing, health, environmental, and social issues. This transition confirmed for me that leadership is healthier when it’s shared. Now more than ever, we need each other. IONS would not have weathered this transition without the collective leadership of our staff and the support of our network and community. I’m excited to transform leadership at IONS so we can facilitate systems change toward everyone’s wellbeing.

The last 100 days I have learned so much with the IONS team about the benefits and barriers to establishing truly collaborative leadership. I’m been blessed with a curious, compassionate, and fun-loving team who is willing to experiment and reimagine our work for a healthier, more sustainable Community Impact Sector. I’m delighted to be here developing more accessible governance and financial training to support future leaders. I’m inspired by our team’s work developing a new Black Futures Learning Journey; building online communities of practice so impact organizations can better collaborate; and working to offer better health and wellness supports to sector staff. Our work at IONS gives me hope a future of well-equipped, diverse leaders and sustainable funding. This team is ready to take on practical systems change with grace and good humour, and I could not be luckier to work with them.

Like plants, people also need nourishment for their growth. It’s spring and IONS is cultivating to the groundwork that nourishes people working in the Community Impact Sector. Seeing you all tend to the needs of our communities gives me hope for the future in these perilous times. My seven-year-old niece reminds me that “we take care of each other”.

I can’t wait to see us in full bloom together.