We’ve all got one organisation we’d like to work for. Whether it’s because we feel passionate about the cause, in awe of their fundraising strategy or inspired by their communications, there’s always that one charity that is on our career bucket list.
Just a couple of years into my career, I landed the perfect role at my dream charity. I was filled with excitement (and perhaps a bit of smugness too) that I’d been chosen to work for this household name, national charity, that also happened to be very close to my heart.
However, just three days before starting my new job, my excitement turned into apprehension. I received an email telling me that the position I had been recruited to fill was no longer available owing to a last-minute internal restructure. I wouldn’t be working in the corporate fundraising team, alongside the people who had interviewed and chosen to work with me, but in a different team on a new fundraising initiative. It was a world away from the role that I had been so thrilled about starting.
I turned up to my first day of work with an open mind, but it didn’t take me long to realise I was a mere cog in the charity’s machine. The team had reluctantly inherited me, and had been forced to work with a private company on the new project. A senior manager had agreed to the contract with little research into the company or consultation with their staff.
I soon learnt that my opinions didn’t matter. After my first meeting with the company, I immediately had a huge number of safety and financial concerns, which I shared with my manager. Although he said he agreed with me, he did not want to ruffle feathers or question his manager’s decision. Staff concerns continued to be ignored.
My new role required frequent travel across the UK - I would be in Newcastle one evening, expected to be in Devon the next morning, and then back in the office that afternoon. There was no time for an induction programme, database training, or time to bond with my colleagues – but as long as I was signing up more fundraisers, that didn’t seem to matter. I was working for a well-known but ultimately faceless charity and I was feeling more and more worthless and frustrated that my concerns were being ignored. My confidence was shattered.
After three months, I made the difficult decision to leave. I was offered a number of other roles in the team, but I had fallen out of love with a charity I had once felt passionate about. I went on to work in a smaller organisation, where I was encouraged to flourish and was supported by my manager and the rest of the team.
I have since learned that the company we had been working with folded, leaving fundraisers from a number of organisations across the world with no means of getting home. I had been right, but because I wasn’t a well-established member of the team my concerns had been ignored, to the detriment of amazing fundraisers and their reputation.
Our organisations and roles are continuously devalued by the media, so it’s important we stick together. Charities must not devalue their staff and make them feel they’re disposable. We may be a small part of a bigger picture, but without the smallest cogs, the machine will fall apart.
Confessions of a charity professional is the Guardian Voluntary Sector Network’s anonymous series where charity workers tell it how it is. To pitch us an idea read our guidelines here and email voluntarysectornetwork@theguardian.com.
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