Showing Up Without Burning Out: A Conversation About Supporting Each Other Through Crisis
Showing Up Without Burning Out
A conversation with Terri Allred about what nonprofit workers and leaders actually need right now.
Since the killings by ICE in Minneapolis, Rochester’s nonprofit community has been mobilizing to support immigrant families while also trying to care for their own exhausted staff. We sat down with Terri Allred, a leadership consultant who’s spent years in the nonprofit trenches and has her own history with workplace trauma, to talk about what’s actually sustainable right now, and what’s not.
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So, real talk. How are Rochester nonprofits doing right now?
Honestly? They’re trying. People are showing up, organizations are responding, trainings are happening. That part is beautiful. But I’m also watching this pattern I’ve seen before where everyone tries to do everything, and six months from now we e going to have a bunch of even more burnt-out workers and leaders.
I am hearing from nonprofit leaders who are trying to do more with less resources. And I’m asking them, “Okay, what have you stopped doing?” And there’s this silence. Because the answer is usually nothing. They are trying to add capacity by asking people to work harder, longer, take on more. And that’s not sustainable.
You've worked in nonprofits yourself. What did that teach you?
So, I ran a program where I was working with people who had committed sexual offenses, helping them reintegrate into the community. Super intense work. And one of the guys we were working with started casing my house. He knew where I lived and confirmed it with my unaware roommate when he stopped by. I found out and completely lost it; couldn't sleep, panic attacks, the whole thing.
And my leaders? They said all the right things. "We're so concerned." "This is unacceptable." "We value you so much." But then they wouldn't fund security. They expected me to keep working alone in situations where I felt unsafe. When I'd have trauma responses, they'd tell me I was being unprofessional.
Their words said one thing, but their actions said something totally different. They said I mattered, but they showed me I was expendable as long as the work got done.
That's rough. How does that relate to what's happening now?
Because I'm seeing the same thing. Leaders are sending these beautiful emails about standing with immigrant employees, about trauma-informed workplaces, all of that. And then by Monday they're expecting everyone to be back at full capacity, hitting the same targets, maintaining the same workload.
But your immigrant employees aren't okay right now. Your employees with immigrant family members aren't okay. And honestly? Your employees who just have empathy and are watching this happen aren't okay either. Everyone's nervous system is activated. And you can't just acknowledge that and then expect it not to affect work.
So what should leaders actually be doing?
Change things. Like, actually change policies and workloads, not just feelings.
First, if you have immigrant employees, they need to know what happens if ICE shows up at your workplace. Do you have a protocol? Have you trained staff on it? Do employees know what information you will or won't hand over? Because right now they're probably assuming the worst.
Second, they need flexibility without having to tell you their whole life story. "I need to work from home this week." "Okay." That's it. No interrogation about why. If someone needs time off for an "immigration-related appointment," they shouldn't have to explain more than that.
And third, and this is the big one, you need to cut work. Actually reduce what you're asking people to do. Cancel meetings. Pause projects. Simplify reporting. Stop launching new things. Just focus on core services and give people breathing room.
But what about when the needs are increasing? How do you serve fewer people when more people need help?
Yeah, that's the impossible question, right? And I don't have a good answer except... you have to set boundaries anyway.
Because here's what happens when you don't: your staff burn out and leave. Then you're serving nobody. Or they stay but they're so depleted they can't do good work anymore. So you're serving more people badly instead of fewer people well.
I know that sucks. I know it means turning people away. I know it means telling funders "we don't have capacity for that." But the alternative is breaking your staff, and that's not acceptable.
And honestly? When you demonstrate that you can serve 500 people with a team of three, you're teaching funders that's sustainable. But it's only working because your staff are sacrificing their health, their time, their wellbeing. You're subsidizing services with unpaid labor. And that has to stop.
What about the workers themselves? What do they need to hear?
That it's not your fault that you can't do everything right now.
When I was dealing with being stalked and the workplace violence, I couldn't focus. I was making mistakes I never made before. I'd forget things. I couldn't think clearly. And people kept telling me to try harder, be more professional, get it together.
But my brain was in survival mode. Like, neurologically, I couldn't access the same cognitive functions. It's not a willpower thing, it's biology. When your nervous system thinks you're in danger, it shuts down the parts of your brain that do planning and focus and creativity, and puts all the resources into survival.
So if you're struggling right now, that's not a personal failing. That's your body doing exactly what it's supposed to do when there's a threat.
Okay, but they still have to get work done. What do they do?
Ask for what you need. Be specific.
Not "I'm really struggling"—that's too vague. Instead: "I need to reduce my caseload by 20% for the next month." "I need to work from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays." "I need to take Friday off and I don't want to explain why."
And set boundaries. Leave at 5pm. Don't check email at night. Take your lunch break. Say "I can't take that on right now" when someone tries to add to your plate.
I know that feels selfish. Especially when people need you. But burning yourself out doesn't help anyone.
What about people with workplace power—managers, executives, business owners?
Use it. This is when positional power actually matters.
If you run a company, make a statement supporting immigrant employees. Host a Know Your Rights training. Set up a matching gift program for donations to immigrant rights organizations. Let your staff know they can take time for this without it affecting their job.
I know it feels risky. You're worried about alienating customers or being "too political." But your employees are watching. They're seeing whether you'll use your privilege to protect them or whether you'll stay quiet to protect your comfort.
You keep coming back to sustainability. Why does that matter so much to you?
Because I've watched too many good people leave this work. Brilliant, dedicated, talented people who cared so much about making a difference. And they left because the sector broke them.
And it wasn't because they weren't committed enough. It was because we've normalized exploitation in nonprofits. We act like dedication to the mission means you should be willing to sacrifice everything; your health, your relationships, your financial security, your sanity.
But that's bullshit. Mission-driven work doesn't give anyone permission to exploit mission-driven people. Period.
If we want sustainable impact, we need sustainable people. And that means protecting capacity, setting boundaries, being honest about limits, and refusing to participate in systems that depend on burning people out.
Last question: if you could tell nonprofit leaders one thing, what would it be?
Your staff will remember how you showed up during this time. They'll remember whether you protected them or exploited them. Whether you changed things or just sent nice emails. Whether you set boundaries with funders or asked your staff to absorb infinite work.
People don't remember what you say during crisis. They remember what you do.
So be the leader who does the hard thing. Who says no when necessary. Who protects their people even when it's uncomfortable. Who understands that you can't build a just world by breaking the people trying to create it.
Your staff are counting on you. Don't let them down.
Terri Allred, MTS
If you don’t already know Terri, you should!
Connect with her, and when you do, thank her for sharing her insights with us here at the Do Good Report.