Community in the workplace is so important, now more than ever before. Whether you’re looking to entice people to come back to the office or you’re just looking to retain the staff you have, you have to prioritize community. Community is where we feel connected to mission. It is where we can be our most authentic selves, and our authentic selves are where our talents and gifts thrive.

I know that social media has its many benefits – and in the sector I am in, doing the work that I do, I know the power of social media and the good that it can create. But anytime we want to create good – it has to be done with intention. And if I’m going to be honest with you, scrolling hardly happens with intention and hardly ever ends with action.

My love for the nonprofit sector is not some summer fling. It cannot be likened to a passionate affair, destined to be short-lived after the fires of passion burn out. It’s not the kind of love that will become a story of the past when I finally settle down with a calmer, more realistic and stable choice.

This, my friends, is the real deal.

Impact is everything.

But what exactly is impact? Is it quantifiable? Or is it the stories that we tell? Is it simply a “change”? An improvement? Does it have to be widespread? Can it be small? Does it have to affect a certain amount of people, places or things? Can it affect just one person, one place or one moment in time? Is it something you can see, or count or measure? Or is it just a feeling?

The term “policing language” sounds intense – and maybe I’m splitting hairs but I really don’t agree that encouraging people to use positive language and avoid hurtful words is “policing”. For me, it’s about creating a culture of compassion and love. But I wondered – was I wrong to think that we should have parameters around the language that we use?

Metaphorically speaking (and sometimes literally;)) I have a tendency to barge in, invite myself to the table and completely hijack the conversation. But there is something so special about being invited to the table. The truth is, not every conversation requires my guidance and not every conversation requires my input. By waiting to be invited, it allows others the opportunity to explore ideas in a more organic and genuine way.

Something that I can’t shake, though, is that as a collective we seem to be more moved by the loss of privilege, than by the stories of those who never had it to begin with. Empathy flows freely for those who have lost access to what was previously provided to them in abundance.

But you know what seems even more unfair? That despite all we know and all we are capable of, there are still going to be thousands of young people with the drive and brilliance to change their lives who will not be able to get ahead. The systems in which we are living and working are set up to benefit some, while the walls others are expected to climb are being built higher and higher.

Nine out of ten times women have no problem talking about their periods with other females. And I think nine out of ten women would likely agree that their period is not “inappropriate”. We don’t hide our periods because they should be hidden, we hide it because we are taught to… because it makes some people uncomfortable. And gentlemen, let me tell you, each time you make a face, walk away, plug your ears or make jokes, you are reinforcing these ideas.

Not only is it unproductive to perpetuate the over-sexualization of young girls because of their appearance or their choice of clothing, but it is even more unproductive to assume that boys (and male teachers) are unable to focus on their work simply because they can see a leg, a shoulder, a belly or a bra strap. This outdated approach to dress-codes is straight up insulting.