An important part of being a nonprofit leader is being able to inspire other people. You need to inspire them to get engaged, to give their money, and to be a part of something bigger than themself.
To be most effective, you must also continually inspire yourself. This is an important step to refueling your leadership.
When I led the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Community Center in NYC for over a decade, I know that I inspired people. I was lucky enough for them to tell me so. It was an honor and a responsibility that I took seriously. What most people didn’t know is what inspired me.
Don’t get me wrong, I was fortunate to have a number of experiences, occasions, and people who inspired me along the way, but my most consistent, my inspiration “go-to” that fueled my leadership for the rest of the year was something I thought I didn’t like, and I certainly wasn’t good at. I never would have predicted it.
THE POSITIVE PEER PRESSURE THAT PROVOKED IT
Pretty early on, when I accepted the job as the Executive Director of The Center, someone innocently said, “You know we do an annual AIDS bike ride, right? It’s from Boston to New York, 275 Miles. Oh, and by the way, your predecessor did it every year and rode every mile.”
Um, nope, someone had neglected to mention this. Have I ever done a bike ride? No. Did I even own a bike? Nope. Had I ever done anything more than a 5K run/walk, in which I walked more than I ran… No, I had not.
So, I promptly – without having any idea what I was getting myself into – grabbed my partner (now spouse) and went to a local bike shop in Brooklyn to get a bike. We attempted to train, but embarrassingly, we didn’t realize that our odometers were set to kilometers, not miles, and so we had actually been riding much less than we thought to prepare. Whoops.
We went to a kickoff event. People talked about how magical and special “The Ride” was. They were so enthralled and enthusiastic telling us about what we would experience that we wondered if we were stumbling into a cult.
WHY I RODE EVERY YEAR
Before we knew it, it was time and the ride was here. That first year was hard. I fought for every single mile I rode because I had not trained enough and bike riding did NOT come easy to me, but I rode every single mile. My partner too. And we did it again the next year. Then I did the ride for ten more years. I never rode every mile again. By the end, I definitely was doing less and less riding and more and more cheering on other riders.
This year is the first year, after 14 years, I am not participating. I thought it would be no big deal. Last year it rained so hard on day one, that we didn’t even know if we could continue the ride.
But this absence made me realize how much of an inspirational touchstone that ride was for me. It was not the miles, it was the people; not the money, but the community. I saw people on the ride that I only saw once a year. I met new people every year who had stories to tell – stories of their lives that connected them to HIV/AIDS, the LGBT community, and the very best of humanity.
THE RIDE THAT FUELED ME
That touchstone never faltered even at some of the lowest points for me, my country, and the world. When COVID hit, we did it virtually in 2020 and hybridized in 2021.
I did not always look forward to doing the ride. I’m a little ashamed to say that. It was pretty exhausting, but I never left that weekend regretting one second of it. It always made me a better person and a better leader. I finished with a huge smile on my face and an incredibly full heart, ready to fight for justice, equity, and a better world for another 365 days.
AN UNEXPECTED LEADERSHIP LESSON
Why the heck am I telling you this? Because there are so many important things you need to cultivate as a nonprofit leader, but the one that can fall to the bottom of your to-do list, especially when things get tough, is what I would argue is the most important thing.
It’s your “why”, your inspiration. It is what fills YOUR cup.
Those people who did the ride are magical and special. They didn’t do it for glory (it was NOT a race), for money (everyone was a volunteer), or for any reason other than because they care.
They cared enough to give up a weekend, to train for hours, to ride rain or shine, hot or cold, to raise money from their friends, family, and colleagues to support the HIV/AIDS services of The LGBT Center.
The ride was the epitome of regular people putting their lives on hold, to be a part of something larger than themselves, and trying to make the world better with their bodies, their hearts, and their souls.
I can’t tell one story of someone I met on the ride – many of those people became and still are incredibly close friends – because I have so many. What I can tell you is that this became a place for me, in my job as a nonprofit leader where I gave a lot, but I always got so much more in return.
Perhaps because of the physical exertion of the 275-mile trek, the equalizing aspects of a ride like this (we all peed in the same gross port-a-potties along the way), and the duration (four days, three nights), I couldn’t compartmentalize as a leader as much as I did in other work settings. I cried, got angry, laughed my ass off, and I was probably at my most authentic as a leader on those rides.
I never imagined that riding 275 miles would refuel my leadership and provide fresh inspiration every single time.
So what I am saying, dear incredible nonprofit superhero, is that when the paperwork is high, the funding is low and you think what you need to do is just work another hour, consider using that time instead to connect to your why. Maybe even go for a bike ride. Even better, go together with people for a cause that is close to your heart.
It might be the refuel you need to come back as a stronger, more inspired leader.
