Authentic leadership

The Beacon has existed for almost 42 years, providing housing and programming for women coming out of crises, such as homelessness, domestic violence and incarceration. 

I began working as the executive director of the Beacon in July 2020 as my “Plan B” after deciding not to purchase a business during a global pandemic. With no experience in fundraising, grant writing or nonprofit leadership, I was shocked that I had even been considered. Sometimes other leaders see things in you that you do not yet see in yourself. The board president, Jill Niswander, along with two nonprofit executive directors (Julie Fugenschuh and Peggy Brown) provided the mentorship I needed to fill the gaps in my skill set.

Many great things were happening at the Beacon when I arrived. With a background as a licensed mental health counselor and business owner, I wanted to take us to the next level. Thankfully, I had a board of directors that could tolerate my propensity for change! 

With every change that I proposed to my board, some would join in my euphoric state while others would express resistance. At first I interpreted this resistance as a barrier, but it was actually a gift. They were experiencing the pain of change up front because they copiously analyzed the possible negative outcomes before committing to the plan, whereas someone like me focused on the positive outcomes. Whenever I implemented the change, some of those negative outcomes inevitably arose, but those who were resistant to change initially became my biggest cheerleaders because they were more mentally prepared for the barriers and had already accepted them.  

First I sent surveys to 1,000 stakeholders, from which we generated a strategic plan that is carefully tracked each month at board meetings. This plan established our five values through which we would filter all major decisions: an organization built on dignity, evidence-based practice, equity-centered care, a trauma-informed approach, and collaboration with community partners (as opposed to working in a silo). 

We cut costs that were not central to our mission, such as closing our social enterprise that was leaking money. This was painful; it meant losing people that we cared for. 

After reducing our operating expenses by 20%, we were able to invest that money into staff compensation. In one year, entry and midlevel staff received an average 43% pay increase. (Ethically, I could not run an organization that existed to lift women out of poverty while keeping some of my staff in poverty through low wages.) Further, we implemented extensive staff training through off-site retreats twice a year while our generous board covered operations at the house in addition to our twice-weekly meetings. We also increased pay equity by providing a transparent spreadsheet of employee pay to everyone on staff and encouraged multidirectional accountability among staff. 

I was afraid to spend more money on payroll, to have awkward conversations about pay and to be forthright with my staff about holding me accountable, but it was worth it. Soon after, we ended our problem of high employee turnover and currently have a waiting list of people who are asking to work at the Beacon in an industry that has struggled to fill positions. 

Our staff trainings included a heavy emphasis on diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility. However, one of the elephants in the room is that I am a middle-class, white woman leading an organization that is providing support for women in crisis who have been disproportionately disadvantaged by systems that criminalize poverty and race. (While I had experienced poverty when leaving domestic violence with my four young boys, my encounter differs significantly from generational poverty. I knew how to get my master’s degree, start a business, keep my credit score high, and act middle class to make my way back into the world that I knew so well.) 

So while we continued to provide education and conversations around equity through ForWard Consulting, they never got that messy. Until they did. Concerns arose among staff and clients that there was racism occurring in our organization, and I wanted to hide. I felt ashamed that I could talk, talk, talk equity, then this was happening right outside my office door. A colleague then said to me, “Your staff and clients likely would not have even brought this up if they did not think this was a safe environment to talk about race.” It was time to lean in and let it get messy. We contracted Breanne Ward and her team at ForWard Consulting to assist with this process, so that everyone involved felt safe to share openly. 

When I was a therapist, some families would show up for therapy knowing they had problems. They were a mess and they did not hide it. Those families saw progress more quickly. The “good” families that did not want to own their mess struggled to grow and change. I do not want to be an organization with a facade of goodness (a feel-good nonprofit); I want to do actual good. And that involves having conversations that are awkward and messy but incredibly important. 

That includes asking my clients if they believe we are genuinely doing the good we claim to be doing. That includes releasing people from the organization that do not align with our values. That means apologizing to my staff for the ways in which my leadership has been lacking. Most recently, I had to own the fact that I have become so focused on expansion opportunities ahead of us that I lost sight of some of the on-the-ground work that needed attention. 

But see, I do not have to be a perfect leader; I just have to be an authentic one. That gives my staff permission to be human too. I have just told a staff member today that I am not ahead of her or above her but that I am in the trenches of authenticity with her – that we are leaning in, having hard conversations, and exploring ways we can do better – together.

Why is philanthropy important to our community?

When you hear “our community,” what comes to mind? Did you picture someone who rides the bus to work because they do not have a car? Did you picture someone who is behind bars while their children are in foster care because they were coping with trauma by using illicit drugs? Do you picture someone who cannot go on vacation because their disability payments are not enough? This is our community. Philanthropy means that we invest in those who were not handed all of the resources that you may have received.

Melissa Vine

executive director, the Beacon