Purpose Can’t Pay the Rent
Have you ever asked yourself why nonprofits exist in one of the wealthiest nations on earth?
In many other countries, nonprofits exist to advocate—to raise awareness, to push for social and political reform—not to fill the gaps left by government. In those places, healthcare is a right. Education is fully funded. Food, housing, and basic dignity aren’t up for debate.
But here? In the United States? Nonprofits are the safety net.
They are the stopgap for every system that’s failed—especially for marginalized communities. The unhoused, the underpaid, the uninsured, the over-policed—all turn to nonprofit organizations for help.
And the burden of that care? It falls disproportionately on underfunded, understaffed nonprofits—especially those led by Black women, Black men, and LGBTQ+ leaders. They’re expected to fix generational harm with limited tools and even less support.
Why Nonprofits Struggle to Survive
There are 1.8 million registered nonprofits in the U.S.—and yet most operate on borrowed time and passion alone.
Why?
Because most funders want to support projects, not people.
They’ll fund laptops, not the literacy coach. Supplies for a community garden, not the gardener’s salary. You can get money for the what—rarely for the who.
And if your organization is led by someone who is Black, Brown, or LGBTQ+? The obstacles multiply: less access to major donors, fewer introductions to foundation gatekeepers, more scrutiny, and sometimes, flat-out exclusion.
We’re asking the most marginalized people to solve the most pressing problems… and then refusing to fund them.
This isn’t just inefficient. It’s unjust.
Nonprofits are expected to address poverty, education gaps, housing crises, and food insecurity—while running on limited budgets, skeleton crews, and little to no operational funding. And then people act surprised when good people leave.
You can’t build sustainable change on burnout.
When Purpose Meets a Paywall
There’s this moment that hits so many people—especially those who’ve gone into social work, nonprofit management, or mission-based careers—when they realize: This isn’t going to be enough to live on.
Degrees in social work. Public service. Community engagement. All pursued with the belief that doing meaningful work would lead to a meaningful life. And for some, it has—just not always financially.
But let me be clear: Not all nonprofits are struggling.
I’ve worked for a nonprofit that was white-led, nearly a century old, and operated with stability and strategy. They didn’t rely on grants. It was structured, well-funded, and respected its people.
It’s not the work that’s the problem. It’s who gets resourced to do it—and who’s expected to make miracles on fumes.
Nonprofits as Employment Lifelines
In the documentary Just One, which I produced and directed for a client, one interviewee said something that has never left me: “Then you’re chasing the grant.”
He was talking about how difficult it is to find meaningful employment after incarceration. Not everyone wants to be an entrepreneur. Not everyone is built for gig work. And the kinds of jobs that are typically available to formerly incarcerated people—manual labor, food service, low-wage warehouse work—don’t reflect their full skill sets.
But nonprofits? Nonprofits sometimes become one of the only doors open.
And these aren’t just entry-level roles. These are consulting contracts, program manager positions, director-level opportunities—real jobs, with real responsibilities, often filled by people who’ve been turned away elsewhere.
Nonprofits are doing double duty: trying to serve the community and create economic opportunities for those systemically excluded from the workforce.
But here’s the catch—when funding dries up, so do those jobs.
That’s what he meant by “chasing the grant.” You work as long as the program is funded. And if the next grant doesn’t come through? You’re back out, trying to catch the next one.
This is no way to build a life—or a legacy.
The Weight of Passion
Nonprofit leaders are some of the most visionary—and exhausted—people I know.
They’re often doing five jobs under one title. Writing grant proposals at midnight and still showing up for early-morning community events. They are burnt out but committed. Broke, but in love with the mission.
But let’s be clear: passion is not compensation. And it should never be the price of survival.
If corporations were expected to operate this way—no operational budget, no staffing support, constantly chasing external approval for funding—we’d call it negligence. But when it’s a nonprofit? We call it sacrifice.
My Work, My Reality
I’ve worked closely with nonprofits that are making real impact—organizations with strong leadership, growing visibility, and a deep commitment to their communities. They see the value in storytelling. They want to invest in the work. But like so many others, their funding is tied to donations and short-term gifts. There’s rarely room for sustained support.
That’s why I created Nonprofit Story Bank.
It exists to help organizations amplify their voices, document their impact, and share their mission with funders and the broader community. It’s not a replacement for long-term funding—but it’s a tool. A bridge. A way to tell the stories that might otherwise go unheard.
Because even when the work is powerful, the budget often isn’t. And too many purpose-driven people are still being quietly priced out of purpose.
Learn more about the Nonprofit Story Bank here.
And for those building something meaningful with limited means, the This Woman Knows Microgrant is also open to nonprofit leaders. It’s a small gesture with big belief behind it.
We Deserve Better
It doesn’t have to be this way.
What if funders changed their approach?
What if operational support wasn’t an afterthought?
What if nonprofits had funding models that respected the labor it takes to create real change?
Because the world needs nonprofit work—but the people doing it need to live.
It’s time to stop pretending passion is enough.
It’s time to stop building broken systems on the backs of women—especially Black women—and LGBTQ+ leaders who give their all and get crumbs in return.
Let’s not just rethink nonprofit funding.
Let’s reimagine what true investment in people actually looks like—because justice isn’t just about what gets built. It’s about who gets to build and thrive.
Kay Matthews, founder of The Shades of Blue Project, shared this insight on the TWK podcast:
“There’s this myth that once you get your 501(c)(3) status, the grants just start rolling in. That’s not how it works. It takes strategy, relationships, and time,” and “grant funding is one piece, but you have to have ways to bring in other dollars.”
Listen to our full conversation on what it means to lead as a Black woman in the nonprofit world: Episode-016: This Woman Knows Podcast
Final Thought
To the young woman who posted that she wishes she had known that working in nonprofit, mission-driven work would leave her financially insecure—here’s what I shared with her:
Pursue the higher paying job if you can.
And when you’re able, give generously to the work you still believe in.
To funders and donors: Fund the people, not just the programs.
To volunteers and supporters: Remember that the people behind the mission need rest, security, and stability, too.
The work deserves it.
And so do the workers.
Lisa N. Alexander is the author and founder of This Woman Knows and What Million-Dollar Brands Know. She is an award-winning filmmaker, director, producer, and writer and is the owner of PrettyWork Creative.
Goodness and gracious. This information and insight changed my entire perspective as a nonprofit founder. Thank you so much. You have provided answer and motivation .