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Compensation for permanent employees - how to stop the decline in salaries without making school's fees too high? 

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Compensation for permanent employees - how to stop the decline in salaries without making school's fees too high? 

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How does your education staffing work? Do you provide housing? What is the pay rate in your area? Interns vs. full time staff?

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This was included in a really helpful article ANCA shared in their last newsletter: https://livingwage.mit.edu/

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Diamond Thompson and Dr. Amy K. Glasmeier 04/17/2023

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WHAT IS THE LIVING WAGE CALCULATOR? Today, families and individuals working in low-wage jobs make too little income to meet minimum standards of living in their community. We developed the Living Wage Calculator to help individuals, communities, employers, and others estimate the local wage rate that a full-time worker requires to cover the costs of their family's basic needs where they live.

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This article was featured in One Great Story, New York's reading recommendation newsletter. Sign up here to get it nightly.

If you met me, you'd probably ask what pronouns I use. You'd ask me because my gender identity is not that clear - to you, at least. I wear light makeup and paint my nails and, depending on the occasion, might be in a slip dress with a kitten heel. And yet, if you heard me speak, you'd probably assume (correctly) that I was assigned male at birth (AMAB, in the current jargon; I was also, of course, assigned the name Brock). You might assume, based in part on my voice and disposition, that I date and sleep with men, like a gay man (also correct). And so you'd ask what pronouns I use because it's considered the polite thing to do now - an accepted part of our perilous new social-justice social contract - and you don't want to offend me with your ignorance and you do want to flatter yourself with your deft ally-ness, all the while probably thinking, especially if you're over 30, Oh goodness, the world is so different now.

And I'd politely respond, " They/them is fine," with a smile. Maybe a somewhat forced smile, because I've come to dread this whole interaction. If I'm feeling game, I might even ask for your pronouns, though chances are, unless perhaps you're my age or younger - I'm 24 - they will be exactly what I'd expect. By the end of the ten-word exchange, I'd be a little exhausted and you'd be a little on edge. And if I had to guess, you'd still probably fuck up my pronouns the next time you use them. You almost certainly would when I'm not standing right in front of you.

I have been using they/them pronouns for about four years now, since I started identifying as nonbinary ( enby, to use the jargon) as an undergraduate, and am a little proud to say that my generation was the one that forced - finally - the entire world, or at least the good-intentioned, progressive part of it that I am fortunate enough to reside in, to acknowledge something many queer people (and feminists and restless square pegs of many varieties) have long sought: freedom from the bright-line tyranny of gender and its accompanying expectations. In this case, starting with some of the most basic elements of the English language: the pronouns he and she. There's power in sloughing off both of them, and some fun, especially when I see how befuddled the whole thing can make people. There is a certain satisfaction in making this confusion you seem to be having - What box to put Brock in? - your problem, not mine. I've thought enough about it.

This all seemed very exciting in the Trump-tainted years, during which I was a gender-studies major in college, determined, as one is at that age, to find themself and stick it to the toxic Man. Just a few years later, they/themness is everywhere. The "pronoun go-round" is the new icebreaker in schools and at the office. Your resistance-leaning co-workers feature their pronouns in their Slack bios and email signatures and Zoom panels. Joe Biden ("he/him") and Kamala Harris ("she/her") have billboarded theirs in television interviews. And capitalism and the culture industry have been happy to co-opt it. It's on the reboot of Sex and the City, Star Trek: Discovery, Grey's Anatomy, and the animated cartoons Steven Universe and She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. Peacock announces a new horror flick called They/Them starring a bunch of he/hims and she/hers and describes the movie as a "queer empowerment story."

You certainly can't avoid it during this year's Pride Month. There's a Manhattan Mini Storage billboard that reads MAN-HATTAN, SHE-HATTAN, THEY-HATTAN, WE-HATTAN. It's on $15 T-shirts for Target's 2022 Pride collection that read SHE HER THEY THEM HE HIM US. There are THEY/THEM face masks available on Etsy. Even Walmart.com peddles pronoun kitsch. Earlier this year, the Museum of Sex sent a promotional email with the subject line "Valentine's Day Gift Ideas for 2022 - LOVE LOCK DOWN for Womxn, Men, He, She, Him, Her, They, Them, Xe, Xyr, Yyrself and Xirself." Another promotional email subject line: "Men's & Non-Binary Engagement & Wedding Bands." (You know what doesn't sound at all romantic? A nonbinary engagement ring.) A publicist sent me - addressing me on the mailing label as BROCK COLYAR, THEY/THEM - a free sample of what are supposed to be nonbinary razors. ("After all, hair is hair," says the letter; I beg to disagree.)

It has gotten so ubiquitous that it's pissing off the crypto bros: In early June, Jesse Powell, chief executive of Kraken, one of the world's largest cryptocurrency exchanges, told his staff they had best conform to whatever pronouns they were assigned at birth, whining, "It's just not practical to allow 3,000 people to customize their pronouns." He also suggested that people who don't conform to his various conventions should just quit. Pronouns have become a talking point in right-wing media, from The Wall Street Journal ("This ostensibly benign practice helps to normalize a regressive ideology that is inflicting enormous harm on society") to the podcast Red Scare, where one of the hosts, Anna Khachiyan, considers it a symptom of the "decline of western civilization." Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito has also in the past couple of years gone on the record getting worked up about the First Amendment implications of regulations designed to prevent language discrimination.

The Powells and the Alitos think they are losing something - some settled sense of the world, presumably with (to use the jargon) cisgendered men like them ruling wisely over us all. It clearly makes them crazy that seemingly everybody's teenager (and even my cousin's dog, according to my cousin, anyway) uses they/them pronouns now. The UCLA Law think tank the Williams Institute reports that 1.2 million adults in the U.S. identify as nonbinary. As for young people, a 2020 survey by the Trevor Project concluded that about one in four queer youth use pronouns that aren't exclusively she/her or he/him; in addition to they/them, there are those who use she/they and he/they or dozens upon dozens of "neo-pronouns" like ze/zir and fae/faer. (If you're dizzy because you keep thinking, But it's just not grammatically correct!, please know that English speakers have been using they as a singular pronoun on the written record since probably the ninth or tenth century. If you found someone's phone at a bar, I'm sure you would have no problem saying, "Someone lost their phone!")

All of which should be good, right? And yet I've begun to wonder what exactly I was trying to accomplish when I started using they/them pronouns and insisting you do, too. In cities and states where it's not so easy to talk about your pronouns all the time, Republican politicians are passing legislation targeting trans youth and their parents, censoring classroom discussion (a.k.a. "Don't say gay!"), and even trying to ban minors from attending drag shows. Could all of the energy put into enforcing pronoun culture among people already generally sympathetic have been better spent elsewhere?

I also wonder whether today's clunky pronoun etiquette has played a role in stunting my self-understanding as well as my self-confidence. I worry that in the end, they/them is just another dead end that mostly serves to annoy some people and make others feel better about themselves. Is something that has become enormously widespread actually a failed queer experiment, less a civil-rights triumph than a trend that blew up too quickly and makes us all feel persnickety? If this is a step toward some other utopic, gender-blurred society, when did it start to alienate me?

I don't remember the first time I met an enby or someone who used alternative pronouns, or even the first time I felt it resonated with how I understood myself. My first coming out, after all, felt like a much bigger to-do. I grew up in Middle of Nowhere, Tennessee, and even though everyone there suspected I was gay - I built most of my personality around a love for Stevie Nicks and had watched gay porn since I was 12 - for whatever reason I didn't think I was. Instead, I maintained crushes on my best girlfriends and eventually dated one. (She would go on to date a girl instead, who transitioned to a man, and then after they broke up, she started dating cis men.)

Then I went off to college, where, unlike back home, there were lots of openly queer people who quickly identified me as one of their own. I didn't hesitate to kiss the first boy who ever danced with me. (It turns out he was "straight," and years later we'd sleep together, immediately after which he'd start posting photos of himself in dresses on Instagram; what I'm trying to tell you through these seemingly unrelated escapades is that nothing about any of this is simple or easy to understand, even for those involved.)

But you've heard this story before - about the small-town boy who downloads Grindr and finds the people he wants to fuck, many of whom want to fuck him, too. With that confidence, I started to learn what I wanted for myself. Although being "masculine" - or presenting that way online - is a popular sexual marketing tool among the gays, it was never going to be for me. I started wearing makeup and more jewelry and perusing the women's section of thrift stores. But what I learned as I tinkered with my personal presentation is that the "masc4masc" gays didn't always want to hook up with someone who didn't conform to their version of homomasculinity, with its cropped tees and jockstraps. (Honestly, I just found it all a bit tacky.)

Perhaps subconsciously looking for answers to why I didn't feel at home among many of those who shared my supposed sexuality, I began pursuing a major in gender and sexuality studies, taking classes on feminist and queer theory and reading all the things they have you read at a fancy liberal-arts school with classes like "Feminism in Trumplandia" and "Queer Modernisms," such as this from Judith Butler's Gender Trouble: "There is no gender identity behind the expressions of gender; that identity is performatively constituted by the very 'expressions' that are said to be its results." In other words, gender is a construct, yadda yadda yadda, and gender is a performance.

This classroom knowledge - plus the privilege of being a twinky white kid living on a college campus in the moneyed northern suburbs of Chicago - felt like it gave me freedom to play. I didn't feel like a man, or a gay man, especially of the varietal I found around me. But I didn't feel like a woman, either. What I wanted was to be free of anything that would label me distinctly male or distinctly female. I wanted my gender to be nothing, null, nada. After all, that Butler quote begins, "There is no gender identity." Therefore, couldn't I just forgo one?

There was also the fact that midway through my first semester at college in 2016, instead of getting the first woman president we all assumed we were going to get, we got - well, you know who we got. During that initial year in office, Trump's administration rolled back LGBTQ+ rights, in part through erasure. For example: removing any mentions of queer people from government websites, revoking protections for trans students guaranteed by Title IX, and announcing that trans people would no longer be allowed to serve in the military. The left's response was to insist on queer visibility. Out of power politically, they could at least control some things. Like ... pronouns.

At Northwestern, a task force was formed to discuss and research the experience of "gender-queer, non-binary, and trans (GQNBT)" students, faculty, and staff, and when its final report was released the following year, 2019, "respecting and affirming names and identity" was at the very top of its list of recommendations, above creating gender-inclusive restrooms or addressing health-care needs of the gender nonconforming. Admittedly, some of the impetus behind "respecting and affirming names and identity" involved encouraging the school to honor trans students' chosen names, but there were also several pronoun-specific directives, like "Ensure that pronouns appear in course rosters." Learning pronoun preferences suddenly became just as important as learning first names - a nightmare, one could imagine, for a professor with a room of 100 moody first-year students. One caveat from the report: "Be prepared to respond to shifting best practices and adjust as social and cultural standards shift."

It wasn't just on campuses, of course, though the momentum certainly started there. Shit was changing real fast all over. By 2019, Merriam-Webster named they its Word of the Year ("Lookups for they increased by 313 percent over the previous year. This curiosity is remarkable for a venerable old pronoun," the dictionary noted), and the American Psychological Association officially endorsed its use (in an example, the APA spelled it out as simply as possible: "Kai is a nonbinary person. They attend university in their home state of Vermont and are majoring in chemistry"). Jessica Bennett, later to be named "gender editor" at the New York Times, wrote a piece headlined "She? Ze? They? What's in a Gender Pronoun?" and then declared a "new gender revolution." After all, only a few years before, in 2015, even The New Yorker's Ariel Levy was side-eyeing the practice, writing in a profile of Transparent creator Joey Soloway, "It would sound crazy, for instance, to describe Soloway by saying, 'They are my favorite director.' " In the same article, the poet Eileen Myles, who has since adopted they/them pronouns, was quoted tripping over someone else's, acknowledging and excusing it away with, "It's not intuitive at all."

By 2018, I was eager to join in on the hype and decided to start identifying as nonbinary. At that moment, it felt sexy and radical, like I'd discovered a shiny new paper clip in the lip. I also smoked cigarettes, painted my nails black, and listened to a lot of Bowie ("Rebel Rebel''). This too was kind of a punk provocation.

Plus, in that era of Trump and Me Too, I had just been sexually assaulted for the first time, and what worse to be in 2018 than a man? Don't get me wrong: I didn't feel like one, but at the same time I didn't really want to be one, either. It was a political declaration. Identifying as nonbinary was my way of saying to everyone else, "I'm not playing your game." As the activist and artist Kate Bornstein said to me recently, "The sneaky magical thing about that word, nonbinary, is that it doesn't say what you are. It only says what you're not." And as a friend told me not long ago about their decision to identify publicly as nonbinary, "I'm not asking you to consider my gender as much as I am asking you to spend a little time considering yours."

But the pronouns, for me, were always beside the point. I never led with them; it felt like announcing a new haircut that nobody had yet noticed. The way I'd gotten a grasp on my weird, sticky feelings about my body was by experimenting with my presentation and the kinds of people I pursued romantically, not telling other people how to refer to me when I wasn't around. (Another perplexing thing about the pronoun tedium: How often do you have to use somebody's pronouns in front of them?) This felt like a personal discovery, and my unwillingness to wear my pronouns on my sleeve (literally, like on a name tag at some campus meet and greet) clearly bothered people. At the time, I was particularly close with one of my professors, whom other professors were constantly approaching nervously to ask how they should refer to me. She would tell them, "I'm not sure. What do you want me to do? Ask Brock about their sex life, too?" I treasured that response, not only for its refusal to abide by the norm but also because, subtly, it did just that ("their sex life").

When the pronoun go-round became the norm in the classroom, I began sharing only my name - "Hi! My name is Brock" - but more often than not, a do-good cis person would remind me to please share my pronouns. It felt like an unnecessary spotlight on my difference, which was already visible to anyone who looked at me at the time (it takes practice to figure out eyeliner).

Then, on the first day of an internship at Ms. magazine, I gave it a try. When it was my turn in the go-round, I said, "Hi! I'm Brock, and I use they/them pronouns." The next day, my editor told me my job for the summer would be writing about "male feminism." I learned that new pronouns wouldn't do much to change the way I was perceived by others.

When I graduated from school and began my first job out of college, at this magazine, "What are your pronouns?" became the first thing many of my new co-workers asked me - proudly, hip as they were to this representative of the incoming generation. I would usually say, "They/them, but I'm really not that precious about it," because I didn't want them to think I was some kind of Gen-Z Gender Police here to sow discord in their workplace. Plus I learned that people liked me more if I didn't make a big fuss about it, and I secretly enjoyed watching people bumble over their words in front of me, which felt like sweet payback for the same people constantly telling me about all their trans friends and family members. That was part of the fun. I was, I thought, forcing them to think.

Privately, I've often also told myself it was my privileged duty - as someone, for whatever reason, not terribly easily triggered - to be other people's workshop. I was, effectively, a safe space for them. And maybe they would do better the next time they met a nonbinary or trans person. I justified my flippancy with a 2019 opinion piece by the Black feminist Loretta Ross in the New York Times arguing against callout culture. In it, Ross tells a story about accidentally misgendering a student during a college lecture. Unfazed, the student responds, "That's all right; I misgender myself sometimes." Ross, in response, writes, "We need more of this kind of grace."

By then, the pronoun thing quickly became oppressive. (Admittedly, my presentation also became more refined: better shoes, better hair, better eyeliner technique.) At work, people began asking me about them even more often, sometimes on a weekly basis. There was a sign placed outside the men's room and the women's room at the office that said RESTROOMS ARE BINARY. PEOPLE ARE NOT. (Do you know what's not binary? Single-stall restrooms.) Every barista, every first date, every stranger at a party, every best friend of ten years, and (in a sign this had truly gone mainstream) my mother inquired about my pronouns. Do you know what ruins sex? Asking for pronouns directly before, during, or after getting naked; I've experienced all three. All of my friends' moms ask them about my pronouns and then my friends recount the conversations to me ... again and again and again. Now that I have my byline in this magazine, I have become Googleable. Type my name in the search bar and "Brock Colyar pronouns" is one of the autofills. I've watched people I don't know discuss my pronouns on Reddit threads and in TikTok comment sections. (Does my algorithm know my pronouns?) I go to a party where I overhear a close friend accidentally use he/him to refer to me. I then hear another person, someone I'm not that close to, lay into the first person. I'm not sure whom I should be more offended by, but everybody is embarrassed. I've been consumed by pronouns.

Many of the nonbinary people I've spoken with recently feel similarly underwater. For some, there's a sense that constantly asking about pronouns is a way for straight people to virtue-signal their wokeness. Ben, who previously worked for a company where putting pronouns in email signatures was the status quo, told me that when they switched jobs to a less self-consciously progressive organization, their co-workers quit getting them wrong. The unwoke, without all that lefty pressure, were simply less worked up about it. Another person phrased their experience this way: "It's constantly straight people freezing up and stressing out. Like, How do I be an ally? " There is nothing enjoyable, in other words, about being a small-talk roadblock. "I can't relax because you can't relax. It makes it not fun for me," said Beau, talking about their experience with pronoun culture at work. Sam, another nonbinary person present for the conversation, told me they don't always insist upon their pronouns in the office for exactly these reasons: "Although the people I work with are very nice, they're also 45-year-old women who are gonna fuck up and make it super-awkward when they fuck up. 'Oh my God. I didn't mean that.' 'Oh my God. I'm so sorry.' 'Oh my God. Are you offended?' I don't want to deal with that."

However, advertising their pronouns was helpful when Sam explained their gender to friends and family: "I present pretty femme. When people meet me, they're going to think I'm a woman, but that's simply not the case. How do I let somebody into that experience without being disgustingly vulnerable?" The solution: they/them pronouns. The problem: The pronouns then become a hang-up for titillated and nervous cis people. They ask for your pronouns, usually not once but a number of times. Still, "If you know my pronouns," Sam continued, "you know very little about me. It was never about the pronoun. We're doing it for other people. In an ideal universe, I don't need to have a pronoun." Another nonbinary friend, Nic, added, "What I prioritize more is how people relate to me. Do you see me as me and not this thing, this word?" Which reminded me of those first days at work, when my new co-workers would ask for my pronouns before they asked where I was from, what school I went to, where I was living in New York, or what my ambitions were as a journalist.

Do you know what ruins sex? Asking for pronouns directly before, during, or after getting naked; I've experienced all three.

Christopher, who presents as femme and used to work in a job where they had to deal with the public all day long, told me the bombardment of pronoun questions sometimes made them feel even more uncomfortable than a misgendering. "I go to work. I'm wearing a miniskirt. Everyone asks me for my pronouns. To me, what that means is 'I see that you're a man. And I see that you're dressed in a woman's costume. And I would like to know whether or not you want me to participate in the fantasy you're having,' " they said. "I don't think my answer should fundamentally change anything about how we're interacting right now. And the fact that you're so desperate to know is weird."

Of course, on the other side of this hang-up are all of the well intentioned trying desperately not to fuck up. "I think a lot of the conversation has been around 'What do I do if I get it wrong?' I think people are afraid of making mistakes," says Alfredo Del Cid, the head of learning and development at Collective, a California-based consulting firm for issues related to diversity, equity, and inclusion (Collective is a vendor for Vox Media, which owns New York).

Which brings me back to Loretta Ross's grace. Part of the reason this is a lightning rod for the left and the right is this specter of the angry queer, ready to yell at you for getting their pronouns wrong. Which is understandable - it takes a long time to figure some of these things out, and screw everyone who can disregard all of that work with a quick he or she - and at the same time is partially grounded in truth (though society is always ready to frame its outsiders as wet blankets, as the scholar Sara Ahmed has written about extensively, there's a reason my Twitter handle is @UnhappyFem). But for me personally, it has always been perplexing why our gender has become so predicated on the experience of injury. What exactly is empowering about going through life with a reservoir of internal anger, ready to explode on anyone who doesn't understand our admittedly complicated relationships to our genders? The gender theorist Jack Halberstam, who admits to also being "loosey-goosey about pronouns," told me about a recent experience of being misgendered at a doctor's office. Rather than getting upset, he chose instead to think about the receptionist who had done the misgendering. "I can't say to that woman in the office, 'How dare you?' This is her job. I need to be generous about what she's doing all day as well, not demanding on every level that I am comfortable."

Meanwhile, maybe in an attempt to inject some humor back into the conversation, all of this has become a meme on the queer internet. I scroll through Twitter: "I'm the first non-binary person to have a little tummy ache," "He/him sun, she/her moon, he/they rising," "Working in a tea shop is the most non binary job," "Orville concert was a transformative experience ... bunch of Bushwick they/thems screeching 'Yass vibrato!!' " Trident gum, the brand, tweets out, "he/they of the day: spearmint Trident gum."

Quietly, my friends and I deploy our own they/them jokes. Most have to do with stereotypes and sex. At drinks with a nonbinary former hookup, they define the stereotype: "People who survive on their parents' money, putting on a shit ton of crazy makeup, floating around Bushwick, being hyper politically correct." They continue, "There's so much of my personal life that's embedded in word politics," meaning they can't figure out what their boyfriend should call them (definitely not "partner" at this age). Another friend, who was recently told they were a hookup's first "penis person" - which is only slightly better than something I read about in a confessional on Instagram, "good they" - and I begin using the word joyfriend as a joke, but then it starts to catch on.

It doesn't help my headache that many representations of nonbinary people in the media are social-justice-warrior characters like Che Diaz, the "queer, nonbinary, Mexican Irish diva" on And Just Like That ... Avie Acosta, a genderqueer former model, told me, "People don't want to sit with ambiguity and mystery. There's no poetry to Che Diaz." There's also a meme of one person responding to another person correcting their misgendering of the actor Ezra Miller: "Right, thanks! They keep assaulting people, women mostly." These are the cringe struggles of representation. And what's there to say about Jonathan Van Ness?

These days, it feels as if an identity that, not long ago, felt unique to me in most rooms I entered has gone mass. Yes, part of what I'm personally upset about is the fact that this thing I loved isn't so alt anymore. But more than that, it feels as if pronoun culture has contributed to nonbinary becoming just the third gender after male and female, more static and concrete than its original fluid intentions. The same nonbinary person who complained about nonbinary stereotypes lamented to me, "I don't want to be a homogeneous normcore mashing of the two genders." Ben hoped, "If man or woman can mean so many things, then so can nonbinary. " We all became nonbinary to escape gendered expectations, and now we're stuck again. I can't help but think that the walking-on-eggshells battle for pronouns is turning my gender into a human-resources-approved corporate product, more neutered than neutral, and, maybe above all else, profoundly unromantic. Next time, just call me by my name.

Thank you for subscribing and supporting our journalism. If you prefer to read in print, you can also find this article in the June 20, 2022, issue of New York Magazine.

Want more stories like this one? Subscribe now to support our journalism and get unlimited access to our coverage. If you prefer to read in print, you can also find this article in the June 20, 2022, issue of New York Magazine.

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This article was featured in One Great Story, New York's reading recommendation newsletter. Sign up here to get it nightly. If you met me, you'd probably ask what pronouns I use. You'd ask me because my gender identity is not that clear - to you, at least.

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Gender Identity: For RELCs who's staff share gender pronouns and may identify as trans or gender nonconforming. How do we set expectations for schools prior to program, address issues and concerns that may arise during programs, and address potential "fallout" from parents after programs?

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Gender Identity: For RELCs who's staff share gender pronouns and may identify as trans or gender nonconforming. How do we set expectations for schools prior to program, address issues and concerns that may arise during programs, and address potential "fallout" from parents after programs?

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Are you adding anything special to your compensation package for staff? Like extra vacation, retention bonus, signing bonus, etc?

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Are you AND your participants satisfied with your reservation/registration app? If not, what challenges are you managing

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Have you had cancelations related to your organization's equity practices?  How did you respond?

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Fact Sheet #71: Internship Programs Under The Fair Labor Standards Act

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(Updated January 2018) ( PDF) This fact sheet provides general information to help determine whether interns and students working for "for-profit" employers are entitled to minimum wages and overtime pay under the Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA). Background The FLSA requires "for-profit" employers to pay employees for their work.

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Interns can be terrific additions to a nonprofit's capacity building journey, and can also contribute to the pipeline of future nonprofit leaders. It's important to treat interns professionally, which starts by clarifying whether they are unpaid volunteers or paid employees.

Must a nonprofit pay its interns?

Interns can be volunteers, in which case they are not paid, or they may be classified as employees, in which case they receive compensation. To some extent, the choice is at the discretion of the nonprofit. Know your state's laws governing wages and hours of work, and determine whether your interns fall under the definition of "volunteer" or "employee" in your state. At the National Council of Nonprofits we have decided to compensate our interns in order to more equitably offer interns exposure to what it is like to work in the nonprofit sector. Unpaid internships put women, people of color, and other historically marginalized groups at a disadvantage.

Be aware that if your nonprofit considers its interns volunteers, but pays them a stipend, that compensation (and the expectation that they will be paid) may cause the Department of Labor to classify interns as . Employees must be paid at least minimum wage and are subject to withholdings and potentially overtime. On the other hand, interns who are classified as volunteers are not owed minimum wage or overtime.

The Department of Labor has published guidance in the form of a 7-factor test to help employers properly classify interns: Fact Sheet #71: Internship Programs Under The Fair Labor Standards Act. While written primarily as guidance for for-profit business concerns, the Fact Sheet also applies to nonprofit workplaces that pay interns. Nonprofits that pay interns a stipend below minimum wage should be familiar with this Fact Sheet and document how their internship program satisfies the criteria. The test looks to factors such as compensation, academic credit, and who primarily benefits from the intern's work.

Practice Pointers

Think about the future. Nonprofits that host interns are in essence mentoring a future nonprofit leader. How will the interns' experience shape their perception of working professionally in the nonprofit sector? An interesting assignment, with opportunities for feedback and growth, that is clearly tied to the mission of the nonprofit, will send the signal that the nonprofit community is a meaningful place to work. On the flip side, another type of internship experience could sour a potential leader on considering employment in the nonprofit sector in the future.

Document expectations. While your nonprofit may not have a written job description for an intern, do what you can to document the expectations for the position. It is useful to clarify the intern's status (either unpaid = volunteer, or paid = employee) in writing, whether in the offer letter, or a letter confirming the internship, or through other written materials, such as an orientation manual or position description.

Manage the risk of accidents/injuries to the intern: In some states volunteers are not covered by workers' compensation insurance, so if the intern is injured, volunteer status could prevent them from being compensated for injuries. (But if the nonprofit has a "volunteer accident insurance" policy, the intern's medical expenses could be covered by that policy.) It makes sense to let the intern know whether there is insurance coverage up front instead of delivering the bad news - "You're not covered" - after an accident!

Clarify the workplace policies that apply to your interns: Example: It's common for nonprofits to have a policy that volunteers may be reimbursed for expenses related to the services they provide the nonprofit - will this policy apply to interns? If so, share the reimbursement policy with the intern.

Use our checklist for hiring interns.

Additional Resources

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Interns can be terrific additions to a nonprofit's capacity building journey, and can also contribute to the pipeline of future nonprofit leaders. It's important to treat interns professionally, which starts by clarifying whether they are unpaid volunteers or paid employees. Must a nonprofit pay its interns?

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Pronouns.org Resources on Personal Pronouns

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In English, whether we realize it or not, people frequently refer to us using pronouns when speaking about us. Often, when speaking of a singular human in the third person, these pronouns have a gender implied -- such as "he" to refer to a man/boy or "she" to refer to a woman/girl. These associations are not always accurate or helpful.

Often, people make assumptions about the gender of another person based on the person's appearance or name. These assumptions aren't always correct, and the act of making an assumption (even if correct) sends a potentially harmful message -- that people have to look a certain way to demonstrate the gender that they are or are not.

Using someone's correct personal pronouns is a way to respect them and create an inclusive environment, just as using a person's name can be a way to respect them. Just as it can be offensive or even harassing to make up a nickname for someone and call them that nickname against their will, it can be offensive or harassing to guess at someone's pronouns and refer to them using those pronouns if that is not how that person wants to be known. Or, worse, actively choosing to ignore the pronouns someone has stated that they go by could imply the oppressive notion that intersex, transgender, nonbinary, and gender nonconforming people do not or should not exist.

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What Are Pronouns? Why Do They Matter? - Pronouns.org Resources on Personal Pronouns

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"Hi! My name is ____ and my pronouns are ____." Pronouns.org offers ample practical resources and information to help you understand personal pronouns, how to share/ask/use pronouns, correct mistakes, and more!

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Teton Science Schools just recently added pronouns to email signatures (and included a link)

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Teton Science Schools just recently added pronouns to email signatures (and included a link)

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Pronouns are how you refer to someone if you are not using their name. For example; "Samantha left her keys at my place last night."

If someone tells you their pronouns, use those! If you don't know someone's pronouns, don't assume gendered pronouns and use gender-neutral ones, like they or ze.

The importance of pronouns

Pronouns are one of the ways we portray our identities. When someone asks you to use their pronouns, they are asking for you to respect their identity.

When someone refers to another person using the wrong pronouns, especially on purpose, that can lead to that person feeling disrespected and can lead to dysphoria, exclusion and alienation.

It is never safe to assume someone's gender and living a life where people will naturally assume the correct pronouns for you is a privilege that not everyone experiences. Choosing to ignore or disrespect someone's pronouns is not only an act of oppression but can also be considered an act of violence.

Using pronouns

Here's a handy chart to help you along this step.

Note: There are many, many more than these out in the world. These are simply the most common. If you want to see more, Google is your best friend.

Pronouncing the newer ones

When a person introduces themselves to you with their pronouns, they'll normally pronounce it themselves. However, don't be afraid to ask.

Ze is pronounced like Americans pronounce the letter "z," like "zee."

Hir is pronounced like "here" and hirs is similar, but with an "s" on the end.

If you don't know a person's pronouns

Sometimes people just don't want to share their pronouns and that's fine. Usually it's safe to use they/them/theirs unless that person tells you otherwise.

Try to introduce yourself with your own pronouns so that everyone you meet knows that you're a safe space and that you won't assume a person's pronouns. It also prompts them to provide pronouns without it being awkward. (Ex. "Hello, my name is Alex and I use they/them/theirs pronouns.")

You can ask that person, as long as you do so politely (i.e. "Hey, what are your pronouns?"), but it is generally preferred that gender non-conforming people come out with their own pronouns on their own terms. Knowing a person's pronouns is not the most important thing in the world but respecting a person is, so try not to demand something of someone when they're not comfortable giving it.

What is considered offensive?

There are many terms that are offensive for people that identify as transgender or any other form of gender non-conforming. Some of these would be "it," "he-she," etc. Unless given explicit consent from everyone who will hear it, do not ever use any of these words when referring to anyone, as they are incredibly offensive.

Would calling a transgender person by the wrong pronoun (like referring to a trans woman as "he") be offensive?

If you do it purposefully with malicious intent, absolutely.

If you do it on accident and you meant for the best, no way.

But, if you continue to do it on accident and make no effort to change, then yes, it is offensive.

Making mistakes

Totally fine, it happens to everyone!

What's most important is that you don't make a big deal about it. Just apologize quickly, correct yourself, and move on.

Ex: "Oh, I'm sorry, I meant they, not he."

If you make it a big deal, you draw more attention onto someone who maybe doesn't want it. As long as you portray that you are sorry and you try harder next time, it's going to be okay. Remember; this is more for them and not you, so never make your apology about you. Always make it about the person you have wronged.

What if someone else makes a mistake?

Easy, correct them politely and quickly, don't make a big deal about it.

Ex: "Actually, Ty uses he pronouns."

Do not ignore a situation where people continuously use the wrong pronouns. The mark of a true ally is never giving up on the people you want to help. Plus, gender non-conforming people tend to get tired of always correcting other people, so having a friend to help is amazing.

Other ways to be an ally

Keep looking up ways to educate yourself and learn more about the community! There are countless resources online and centers around the world that will be more than happy to help you in any way they can!

The Center for Inclusion and Social Change is a great place to start and is located in the C4C on the third floor, room N320. You can contact us at cisc@colorado.edu or 303-492-0272.

We offer some great resources and trainings, including peer education services and LGBTQ+ Inclusion Safe Zone training.

Other great websites:

And remember:

Being an ally is not a thing you are, it is a thing you do. Practice makes perfect and you are always evolving as a person. Mistakes happen, but what matters most is that you are dedicated in making this world a better place for everyone. Keep at it! You are incredibly valuable to the community!

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Pronouns are how you refer to someone if you are not using their name. For example; "Samantha left her keys at my place last night." If someone tells you their pronouns, use those! If you don't know someone's pronouns, don't assume gendered pronouns and use gender-neutral ones, like they or ze.

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14:09:44 From Dan Auer - ANCA to Everyone:
	https://natctr.org/services/google-group
14:14:55 From Asa Duffee (he/him) — ANCA to Everyone:
	More about the RELC Summit: https://natctr.org/events/relc
14:16:11 From Dan Auer - ANCA to Everyone:
	https://padlet.com/ANCAmembership/5ocg0nune60v257a
14:18:25 From Catey McClary, Tremont to Everyone:
	John and I both posted about the same issue Tremont is having- so we can combine both of those topics
14:21:21 From Heather Hahn Sullivan - DLC to Everyone:
	internship can go to staffing structure!
14:21:47 From Michael Blackwe (he/him) North Cascades Inst. to Everyone:
	I agree that internship/fellowship blends with staffing structure question
15:17:43 From Jen Levy (she/her), ANCA to Everyone:
	I added a few or our resources to the Padlet, https://padlet.com/ANCAmembership/5ocg0nune60v257a
15:19:04 From Heather Hahn Sullivan - DLC to Everyone:
	though definitely - raise fees this year!! We are subject to inflation just like everything else.
15:20:03 From Michael Blackwe (he/him) North Cascades Inst. to Everyone:
	if non-profits communicated and coordinated pricing structures, would that be price fixing? Isn't that illegal in the private sector? But it would be smart!
15:27:50 From John DiDiego - Tremont to Everyone:
	watching an episode of the Australian kids show ‘Bluey’ - check it out on Disney+. Very cute and funny 10 min episodes
15:29:02 From Asa Duffee (he/him) — ANCA to Everyone:
	Thank you for being here everyone!
15:29:11 From Joanna Ahlum (she/her), Teton Science Schools to Everyone:
	Thank you all!
15:29:19 From Nadine Meyer She/Her Osprey Wilds to Everyone:
	Thank you!
15:29:35 From Melanie Costello - NIU Lorado Taft to Everyone:
	This was a great discussion. Thanks!
15:29:39 From Colleen F (she/her)- Eagle Bluff to Everyone:
	thanks, all!
15:29:39 From John DiDiego - Tremont to Everyone:
	look forward to the google form to share!

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When camp professionals come to me regarding how to institute LGBTQ+ inclusive practices at their camps, one of their most pressing concerns is how parents and caregivers in their community will react. Over the past two years, as I have worked alongside many camps as they worked to institute practices that create welcoming spaces for LGBTQ+ campers, there have almost always been fewer caregiver confrontations than anticipated. But clearly, walking into these conversations prepared will enable you to feel confident and grounded in your mission and values.

As I have supported camps through this process, I have outlined the following seven steps that can hopefully help additional camps as they strive to manage these conversations. The most important thing to remember is that leading with bold and brave inclusion is going to make some folks angry - but that doesn't mean you did something wrong. You should challenge yourself to be prepared for these conversations, not paralyzed by the fear of them.

Step 1 - Illuminate Your Why

This work is hard, but it has also proven to be lifesaving. The suicide risk for LGTBQ+ young people is cut by more than half when they are part of communities that they describe as very accepting (The Trevor Project, 2022). Make this your objective as you decide what steps you can take to create welcoming and affirming spaces. Grounding this work in your camp's core values can be a real positive, because your camp community likely understands and supports these values. You are simply taking into consideration information that illuminates the need to use them for this vulnerable and beautiful population.

Step 2 - Prepare Clear Policies that Center on Equitable Safety

To effectively communicate to your camp community about what LGBTQ+ inclusion will look like in your space, you need to have your own clear picture of that information. The concept of universal design can really help here. So many folks are worried about what will happen in bathrooms, cabins, and locker rooms when we embrace LGTBQ+ campers and staff in our spaces. But the truth is, if they are unsafe after we affirm and include queer and trans* campers, they were unsafe to begin with. Let's focus on the areas where we can make kids with all bodies safe. With appropriate boundaries and supervision, no one should be afraid to use a restroom or change their clothes.

Step 3 - Communicate at a Community-Appropriate Level

Take some time to think about your camp's social climate and what the reaction to inclusive policies may look like. If you are in a community where you do not fear a huge backlash, being as clear as possible is a great benefit to you. If you can answer parents' questions before they are asked, you will save yourself some energy. However, if you expect your community to use your well-thought-out, well-researched policies as a weapon against you, keep your declarations at a high level. For example, "We prioritize the equitable safety of all campers above all else. This means we will continue to have stellar supervision in all areas of camp, including bathrooms and changing spaces, and we will talk to all campers about respecting each other's privacy and personal boundaries."

The choice of what to communicate and how to deliver your message will vary greatly from camp to camp, and you will need to think this through with your team. Some questions you may ask are:

Have camps in our area instituted a similar LGBTQ+ inclusion policy?

How was the inclusion policy received by campers' caregivers?

How are schools in our community handling this?

What has the reception been?

As a reminder, this is not about whether you are going to institute inclusive practices. This is just meant to help you discern how you will communicate with your community and give you the opportunity to prepare for a foreseeable response.

Step 4 - Prepare Talking Points for Foreseeable Concerns

You are most likely going to have angry caregivers once you institute trans*-inclusive practices. I am sure many of you weathered some not-so-kind phone calls when you instituted a COVID-19 masking policy. But you still instituted the mask policy, because you knew it was the safest thing to do for the campers in your care. The same principle holds here. I suggest preparing for the most outrageous questions, because, worst-case scenario, you'll get them. However, most of the questions you receive will be about better understanding your policies from parents who truly want to keep their kids safe. Work with your team, remembering your why, and craft responses for the questions you believe you might field. If you don't know what the best language to use is or are looking for additional information on talking points, this is an excellent time to enlist the aid of an expert who can help you build a bank of responses.

Step 5 - Pinpoint Your Response Team

Once you have prepared your talking points, the next step is to have a team in place who can meet the moment of the conversation. Just because someone has a certain title does not mean that they are equipped with the skills or knowledge to respond to questions, fears, and frustrations. Identify those members of your team who feel confident to champion your inclusive decisions while showing empathy and setting appropriate boundaries. Those who may field these calls or emails need to:

Feel secure in the language

Understand the reasoning behind the policies

Feel comfortable engaging in escalated conversations

Understand the data used to build the policies

Additionally, those on the response team should not be individuals who would be personally affected or harmed if the conversation turns hateful from the caregiver's end. This is an opportunity to make sure that LGTBQIA+ staff do not have to shoulder the burden of the negative opinions about their personhood.

Step 6 - Manage Conversations with Clear Information

Caregiver interaction types can fall into three main categories that will affect how you address their questions.

1. On Board. On boarders may even think that you haven't gone far enough yet (and this might be true). They may have a few clarifying questions, want to know how you plan to expand these practices in the future, or just want to call to let you know how excited they are. Be grateful for the on boarders, and tuck away their compliments for when you need to remember your "Why."

2. Unsure But Not Unwilling. Unsures may have lots of questions. Although they might need some loving redirection on appropriate language usage they mostly have the best interests of their camper in mind and are simply unfamiliar with some of the concepts of LGBTQIA+ inclusion. While unsures might need additional resources to understand why you've made the decisions you have, they often can be brought along on the journey with some care and attention.

3. The Never Going to Get Its. This group doesn't understand why you are taking the actions you are, and no amount of thoughtful information or resources will help them understand. Be mindful of the amount of time you spend worrying about folks who are never going to accept your expanded knowledge of inclusion.

When we make the choice to be boldly and bravely inclusive, we must lovingly help people who are not in alignment with our program's values understand that this might not be the camp for them. (I will always hold space for how hard this concept is, but also know that those who self-select to not align with inclusion cannot be the reason we don't do it.)

When someone calls, you will probably be able to quickly determine whether they are contacting you to express genuine curiosity about your policies or to express their belief that your policies are unsafe and inappropriate and they want you to know it. In either case, clearly explain your policy, any rationale that you find reasonable and appropriate to share, and try to refer to your camp's mission and values as often as necessary. Reassure folks with clear language that safety will always be a priority - but that safety must be equitably distributed to all campers, and including trans* campers does not pose a threat. In fact, trans* youth are significantly more likely to be harmed than to do harm.

If someone comes in hot, and you don't feel like you are able to keep your composure, take a time out. Reflect, give yourself space, and then reengage the conversation. For example, on the phone you might say, "This sounds really important to you and I want to give you my full attention. Give me five minutes, and I will call you back and answer your questions without disruption." In those five minutes jot down some notes for what you need to share, gather your preformulated talking points, and take some deep breaths. Remind yourself of your why, and remember that you are in control of the conversation.

Please also remember that you don't owe anyone the space to abuse you, your staff, or your camp. If a caregiver starts to become belligerent and engages in name calling or other abusive language, I recommend stating clearly that the behaviors they are exhibiting are not effective communication and that if they continue you will have to conclude the conversation. An excellent sample script for ending a call due to hateful or nonproductive speech would be: "I have answered your questions, but at our camp we believe that people of all genders and sexualities should feel welcome and have access to safety. This stance is nonnegotiable. I am ending the call now, but if you feel like we can have an appropriate conversation about this in the future, you may reach me then."

Step 7 - Create a Support System for Vulnerable Staff

If you have staff who are members of the LGBTQIA+ community who may have direct knowledge of negative feedback, it will be important to make sure to remind them that they are valuable members of your camp family. Furthermore, they are welcome and honored in your space. Members of the LGBTQIA+ community can easily internalize some of the mean things people say and start to wonder if they are a burden or a liability. Please take care to remind them they are not. Think about affirming one-on-one conversations, or, if the situation is particularly harmful (like angry folks taking it to social media), consider some sort of healing event where concerned staff can share what they are feeling, name what they need to feel safe at camp, or just be in community with their camp peers who they love and trust.

The Bottom Line

Creating safe spaces in our camp communities can literally save the lives of trans* campers. So each of us must think about how we can be the safety they deserve.

Just remember, for every parent who wants to fight you about gender-inclusive policies, there is a parent hoping that their child will be safe in your space because they haven't found safety elsewhere. For every caregiver who questions why you invite people to share their pronouns during introductions, there will be a child who gets to use a pronoun that fits them for the first time in their life.

You all are the most powerful people in the world to these kids - and they deserve to feel loved and respected just as they are. Let's get to work!

Reference
The Trevor Project. (2022). 2022 national survey on LGBTQ youth mental health. thetrevorproject.org/survey-2022/#support-youth
Chris Rehs-Dupin is cofounder of Transplaining, an organization that works to create a safe(r) world for transgender and gender nonconforming youth and adults through education, community conversations, and empathy. Chris spent 17 years in youth development in the outdoors, including 8 years in overnight programming and 9 years in day programming. He is a speaker, trainer, and educator who has spoken at numerous conferences, camps, and organizations.

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Preparing for Pushback When Instituting LGBTQ+ Inclusive Policies

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When camp professionals come to me regarding how to institute LGBTQ+ inclusive practices at their camps, one of their most pressing concerns is how parents and caregivers in their community will react. Over the past two years, as I have worked alongside many camps as they worked to institute practices that create welcoming spaces for LGBTQ+ campers, there have almost always been fewer caregiver confrontations than anticipated.

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How do you grow non-curriculum based programming to maximize the use of your campus?

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Hi all,

Across the board, all of our schools have seen drastic increases in transportation costs, to the point that we've lost some long term schools who cannot afford buses. Who else has encountered this and are there any creative solutions out there?

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What are your most effective marketing strategies for attracting new customers?

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1. Affordable teacher gift ideas

2. Affordable staff gift ideas

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12:08:25 From Jen Levy (she/her), ANCA to Everyone:
	Menti.com
12:08:40 From Jen Levy (she/her), ANCA to Everyone:
	8895 1369
12:13:42 From Drew Dumsch to Everyone:
	Katie, Congrats to you and everyone at NatureBridge!
12:22:07 From Peter Smerud, Wolf Ridge ELC to Everyone:
	I have to step away to deal with something.  Back in 15 min or so.
12:24:20 From Jen Levy (she/her), ANCA to Everyone:
	1. What question do you hope to answer today AND/OR what do you hope to contribute to the conversation?
12:25:33 From Katie Risser - NatureBridge to Everyone:
	Iâm interested to hear what your most effective marketing strategies are for reaching new customers
12:25:53 From Drew Dumsch to Everyone:
	What's the current status of Outdoor School school-year programming in the broader environmental  education field?
12:26:10 From Tanya Sulikowski (she/her), NJ School of Conservation to Everyone:
	I like the busing question. We just got a small grant to cover some busing costs and are trying to decide how to award $
12:26:19 From Eric Buher (he/him) | North Cascades Institute to Everyone:
	How much time do you spend training incoming instructors/educators. What do you consider the most important topics included in that training?
12:26:33 From Emily (she/her) NatureBridge to Everyone:
	Reacted to "How much time do you..." with ð
12:26:49 From Heather Hahn Sullivan - DLC to Everyone:
	Non-curriculum based programs = rentals. Ideas, suggestions, pitfalls
12:26:51 From Logan (Tremont Institute) to Everyone:
	Either real or prospective solutions to transportation costs, or at the very least some commiserating on rising bus costs.
12:26:56 From Peter (Ashokan) to Everyone:
	I am interested in hearing what challenges folks are facing in this field especially in light of the current resurgence in interest in OE
12:27:10 From Alyssa Hoyt - Mount St. Helens Institute to Everyone:
	Trends that your organization is seeing around the structure of OS - the level to which teachers/school districts want to be involved with curriculum delivery and activities while at your site vs. how much your organizationâs educators run programs.
12:30:35 From Heather Hahn Sullivan - DLC to Everyone:
	Anyone have a Marketing Manager job description they would be willing to share?
12:34:06 From Asa Duffee (he/him) â ANCA to Everyone:
	How to Become a Media Darling: https://natctr.org/news/directions/media-darling
12:41:05 From Tanya Sulikowski (she/her), NJ School of Conservation to Everyone:
	Outdoors on Purpose. https://www.instagram.com/outdoorsonpurpose/
12:42:44 From Katie Risser - NatureBridge to Everyone:
	Thank you, everyone!
12:42:55 From Logan (Tremont Institute) to Everyone:
	Reacted to "Thank you, everyone!" with ð
12:45:14 From Logan (Tremont Institute) to Everyone:
	Feel like you could hire/poach an actual bus driver with way better pay and working conditions
12:56:19 From Emily (she/her) NatureBridge to Everyone:
	We do 10 days new educator training with a shadow of 3 day program.
12:56:25 From Logan (Tremont Institute) to Everyone:
	We have a similar on-boarding process to that Katie. Our new instructors this fall just started teaching on their own in early/mid October
12:58:57 From Emily (she/her) NatureBridge to Everyone:
	Agree with Pete- we have training sessions through out the season- 1 hour long session
13:07:47 From Alyssa Hoyt - Mount St. Helens Institute to Everyone:
	We offer both building and field camp rentals with a menu of services: https://www.mshinstitute.org/about_us/science-learning-center.html
13:10:01 From Emily (she/her) NatureBridge to Everyone:
	We would pay our educators a premium rate to work over the weekend.
13:10:27 From Peter (Ashokan) to Everyone:
	Reacted to "We would pay our edu..." with ð
13:12:12 From Eric Buher (he/him) | North Cascades Institute to Everyone:
	North Cascades Institute has a pretty robust âConferences & Retreatsâ program that has been successfully running for 10-15 years. Iâd also be happy to share an example of one of our cost sheets that we use when contracting with an outside group.
13:12:39 From Heather Hahn Sullivan - DLC to Everyone:
	Would love any resources: hhsullivan@duneslearningcenter.org
13:16:16 From Peter Smerud, Wolf Ridge ELC to Everyone:
	Eric, I would love to see your cost sheet for conferences/retreats.  pete.smerud@wolf-ridge.org   and would keep it confidential if that's a request.
13:16:28 From Logan (Tremont Institute) to Everyone:
	Hi all this was lovely and I have lots to consider going forward. Have to sign off now but great to see everyone! â¤ï¸
13:18:31 From Jen Levy (she/her), ANCA to Everyone:
	https://www.roeeconf.org/
13:32:45 From Asa Duffee (he/him) â ANCA to Everyone:
	An introduction to Outdoor School for All: https://natctr.org/news/directions/outdoor-school-for-all