"You must have the patience of a saint." That’s the first thing most people say when they find out I manage a nonprofit arts program in underserved neighborhoods. Then comes the second statement—the one said with just a touch of pity: "Wow, that must be so hard." And finally, my personal favorite: "Do you, like, get paid for that?"

It's as if my career were akin to adopting stray cats or joining a monastery—noble, self-sacrificing, and perpetually broke. Now, don’t get me wrong—I love my job, but let me set the record straight. Working in the nonprofit world is nothing like the soft-focus indie movie montage you might imagine. It’s less “slightly frazzled saint building a better world,” and more “pragmatic juggler of twelve flaming hula-hoops while somehow convincing people that supporting arts education will literally change lives”—which it does, by the way.

So, let’s dispel some myths about my job and pull back the curtain on what running a nonprofit actually looks like. Spoiler alert: It’s not all inspirational Instagram quotes and feel-good moments, but it's richly rewarding in ways you might not expect.

Myth 1: We Only Work Out of "The Goodness of Our Hearts"

Look, I didn’t wake up one day and think, “You know what’s a fun career goal? Hustling for grant money while drinking lukewarm coffee at 7:00 AM.” Like anyone else, I have bills to pay and an embarrassingly large student loan balance that occasionally haunts my dreams. Yes, my work aligns with my passions and values, but guess what? It’s also a real job with deadlines, budgets, and enough spreadsheets to make an accountant cry.

Working in nonprofits isn’t about choosing between being fulfilled and being financially solvent. It’s about finding that rare intersection where your work aligns with your personal mission, but also demands—and deserves—a paycheck. Because organizing free summer art workshops for kids is great, but if I’m not getting paid, I’m going to have to start sticking googly eyes on rocks and calling it “alternative sculpture” just to keep the lights on.

Myth 2: It's Just "Playing with Paints"

This one always gets me. When people hear "arts education," they imagine me finger-painting with a bunch of kids while Canon in D plays softly in the background. Adorable vision, I’ll admit. Reality? I spend more time emailing prospective donors or haggling with city bureaucrats over funding than I do standing in front of an easel.

To run a program that actually makes an impact, you need to be part artist, part educator, and part full-blown project manager. I’ve drafted more strategic plans than a presidential campaign. I’ve crunched spreadsheets at 1:00 AM trying to balance budgets down to the last dollar—and spoiler, that dollar always goes to more paintbrushes. Coordinating a team of volunteers, finding accessible community spaces, negotiating with vendors, marketing events, and jumping through bureaucratic hoops takes skill, grit, and a level of dedication that makes escaping into a rom-com feel like an Olympic-level reward.

Pro tip for anyone wanting to get into this line of work: Get ridiculously good at Googling “free resources near me.” Creative financing is a skill they don’t teach you in art school, but it’s the reason we can occasionally make magic happen.

Myth 3: It’s Nonstop Soul Fulfillment

Sure, there are transcendent moments—like watching a quiet kid light up the first time they see their painting on display or talking to a parent who tells you your program inspired their child to dream bigger. That’s why I keep showing up. But most days? My “soul fulfillment” comes with a side of logistical headaches.

You know that friend who plans a group vacation and ends up doing everything—booking flights, finding gluten-free restaurants for Sarah, and making sure no one gets off the bus without their headphones? That’s me. Except instead of a 10-person trip, it’s sometimes hundreds of kids and their families who are relying on us to make an event happen without a hitch.

Also—and I cannot stress this enough—there is no manual. No one sends you a guide titled “How to Throw an Art Festival on $500 and Pure Optimism.” You just figure it out as you go and pray no one notices the duct tape holding up your makeshift photo booth. There’s creativity in what we teach and equal creativity in how we teach it—or pull it off at all.

Myth 4: We’re Up Against "The Big Bad For-Profit World"

I get it, the phrase “nonprofit” sounds like the opposite of “business,” but we’re more alike than you think. We still rely on partnerships, innovative strategies, and a good dose of hustle. In fact, we’re often competing with for-profits for resources, donors, and attention.

Think of it like dating. Nonprofits are the thoughtful but sometimes overlooked person who texts back promptly, remembers your birthday, and genuinely values long-term connection. For-profits? They’re the person whose dating profile boasts about their extensive wine collection and includes captionless Instagram thirst traps. Cool, but who’s there for you when you’re having a meltdown over IKEA furniture? Exactly.

Now, don’t get me wrong—competition isn’t inherently bad, and we even collaborate with larger businesses sometimes. But trying to explain to potential donors why our grassroots, hyper-local work is essential while they’re weighing whether to fund an art program or buy naming rights to another university lecture hall? It’s like trying to explain why your homemade cupcakes deserve the spotlight over a three-tiered fondant cake shaped like the Eiffel Tower. Both are valuable—one just happens to taste better (I’ll let you guess which one).

Myth 5: You Need a Superpower to “Make a Difference”

When people hear what I do, there’s often this look of awe mixed with intimidation—like what I’m doing is unattainable. Let me demystify that right now. You don’t have to be a policy expert or know the names of every Impressionist painter to make an impact. And you definitely don’t need to quit your job and start a nonprofit to give back to your community. Sometimes it’s the easiest, most bite-size acts of support that leave the biggest impression.

Want to help? Volunteer at a community art event. Buy a ticket to a local gallery opening. Share a fundraiser link with your friends. Or just amplify the work of nonprofits already doing the groundwork. Trust me, giving back isn’t about grand gestures—it’s about showing up in any way you can. That’s where the real magic happens.

Conclusion: Behind the Myths, There’s Real Connection

Yes, arts education is messy, underfunded, and often misunderstood. It’s also joyous, transformative, and deeply rooted in a belief that creativity has the power to change lives. Sure, there are spreadsheets and sleepless nights and awkward donor conversations at cocktail mixers (awkward because I think I accidentally insulted someone’s yacht name once). But there’s also pure, unfiltered magic in watching communities come together over something as simple as a paintbrush and a blank canvas.

So, no—I’m not a saint, a martyr, or just “someone who works for free.” I’m a mission-driven professional who believes that everyone deserves access to art, regardless of where they live or how much money they make. And if that means managing twelve flaming hula-hoops while convincing people that creativity can change the world? Well, hand me my matchsticks—I’m in.