Anchors in Uncertain Times: Three Tools That Keep Me Grounded in Nonprofit Work
When I first entered the nonprofit sector, I carried with me an idealistic drive to make a difference. I had just finished a progressive master’s program in migration studies, surrounded by international peers who shared my values. I felt empowered with knowledge, reassured by a collective, and ready to contribute.
Then came reality. I returned to my home country in 2022, just as Russia attacked Ukraine and Germany took in nearly a million refugees. I found myself managing a team in a large refugee camp, responsible for hundreds of people seeking protection. As a fresh graduate, I was suddenly supervising overwhelmed staff while fielding frustrations from residents living in harsh conditions. I empathized with their anger, but bearing it daily was exhausting.
Shifts blurred into long hours. Meeting basic needs – sleep, proper meals, time with friends- felt like a victory. I hardly recognized myself. The idealism that had brought me here collided with rigid structures, institutional compromises, and the weight of responsibility. Something broke inside me. I felt powerless, disillusioned, and yet trapped.
I knew something had to change, but I didn’t have the time or energy to leave. What I did have was the urge to survive without losing myself. Over time, I developed three practices – anchors, really – that have helped me navigate the constant tension between personal life, professional commitments, and the messy realities of nonprofit work: using priorities as a compass, giving to community, and creating places of self-efficacy.
1. Priorities as Compass
For a long time, I tried to live up to many conflicting and demanding standards. With every stage of life, I added more expectations – what I should achieve, how I should contribute, who I should be. Eventually it became so confusing that I needed a new way to decide what I really wanted.
That’s when I started thinking of life in terms of different futures, mapped on a spectrum of priorities.
For example: I live simply, and since I don’t have (or plan to have) children, my main priority is feeling stable and valued in my work rather than maximizing income. Friends with families or more expensive lifestyles land differently on that spectrum, and that’s okay.
To find my compass, I looked back: when had I felt most alive and fulfilled, and when had I felt most misplaced? Working in the camp made it clear – I cannot sacrifice my curiosity and excitement for life. That spark sustains me. So I returned to academia, pursuing a PhD. It comes with its own trade-offs like uncertainty, modest income, continuous mobility, but it gives me what I need: time to learn, research, and protect solitude as an introvert.
Priorities are not about rigid rules. They are about clarity, peace with potential sacrifices, and choosing consciously rather than drifting.
2. Giving to Community
When I felt stuck in my job, I wanted to shift into international work. But my position was so local that I didn’t have a network to lean on. That’s when I discovered The Bloom, a global social impact community.
At first, I felt hesitant. As a junior professional, what could I offer? I worried I would be a burden if I asked for advice. But when I reached out, people responded generously. Senior professionals shared insights, not because they expected something in return, but because they recognized themselves in my questions.
The biggest shift came when I realized that I had something to give as well. Advocacy and policy people wanted to hear what daily life looked like inside a refugee camp. Others transitioning into migration roles valued my experiences. That recognition was empowering, I felt needed again, like my perspective mattered.
Community reminded me that generosity isn’t transactional. It’s a web where people give and receive in different ways and at different times. It also reminded me that I’m not alone. Even when the sector feels hostile or progress regresses, there are people around the globe working toward the same goals, ready to listen, share, and lift each other up. This is also why I like to join the weekly Nonprofit Hive meetings with social impact individuals from all over the world.
3. Creating Places of Self-Efficacy
After feeling powerless in the camp, I craved a way to prove to myself that I could shape change, however small. For me, self-efficacy means reclaiming agency by setting things in motion and watching them grow.
Sometimes it’s quick wins. I started with five knee pushups, then ten, then finally a full one. Today I can do twenty in a row, and my friends laugh about my arm strength when I help them move. Small progress showed me that effort builds results.
Other times, it’s long-term (and unexpected) journeys. As a child, I felt weirdly drawn to Spanish. Years later, my Mexican ex brought me to Mexico, where I started learning. Now, five years later, I’m fluent and love my life in Spain. Patience was part of the empowerment: slowly moving from words to conversations to relationships built in another language.
And then there are what I like to call “relational/ conversational experiments.” I used to react defensively when colleagues made comments I found outdated or sexist. Over time, I practiced new responses: a question, a joke, or paraphrasing to check my assumptions. Not every attempt worked, but gradually I noticed I could shift conversations and relationships. That realization – that my choices mattered – was transformative.
Self-efficacy doesn’t erase external chaos. But it gives me back a sense of territory in my own life. It tells me: you can act, you can influence, you can grow.
Closing: Anchors in Disruptive Times
Nonprofit work often feels like standing on shifting ground. I’ve been burned out and disillusioned, but these three practices keep me anchored.
So I leave you with three questions I return to again and again:
• What are my priorities right now?
• Where do I find and give community?
• What small practices remind me that I can shape change?
We may not be able to control the disruptions around us, but we can choose how to anchor ourselves. And sometimes, those choices reveal new strengths, reminding us that we can be more than resilient; we can be transformative.
Have you joined the Nonprofit Hive? If not, you are missing out! Join today 🐝
Hanna Reichelt began her career in psychology before discovering her passion for migration, intercultural communication, and humanitarian work through volunteer experiences with refugees and international internships.
She pursued specialized studies in migration studies and project management, then spent several years working directly in refugee camps. After a transition through her work for a think tank, she has returned to academia to deepen her research and impact. Hanna is motivated by a profound sense of global connection and maintains an enduring belief in human cooperation as a pathway toward a more equitable future – even amid today’s complex challenges.