This spring, I had the opportunity to take a sabbatical from work — the first time I have not held a job since I was 15 years old (and the first time I haven’t held a full-time job since I was 18 years old). As I’m sure you’ve read in other blog posts from the SEARAC team, our staff are granted a paid 10-week sabbatical opportunity after reaching five years of service. This is a policy we implemented in 2021 to improve staff retention AND to give us all a much-needed break.
If anything, rest and recovery for those in our sector have only become more important in the years since; our world has maintained, if not increased, its levels of injustice, chaos, and violence. Nonprofits, community-based organizations, and their staff members are being squeezed in so many ways, making work challenging AND uncertain.
I used this paid time off opportunity to do “typical” sabbatical things, like traveling and spending time with family. I was able to engage with culture (museums, theater) and community more than I typically have time for during my busy weeks — even with a four-day workweek, it still sometimes feels like there are not enough hours in the day! I really tried to lean into rest as the weeks stretched out ahead of me, with more opportunities to work in the garden, read books, and play games. Some days, I had nothing on my calendar, and that was WEIRD. It was incredible to travel, run errands, spend time with friends and family, and relax without the worry of what was looming in my inbox.
And yet, despite the much-needed opportunity to rest and recharge, I struggled with sabbatical! I found it surprisingly hard to not work, especially when it has been more than 25 years since I didn’t have a job. It took me weeks to really let go. I was still hungry for routine and schedule throughout the sabbatical period, and I had to build a new routine for myself that looked very different from my typical day. (I’m trying to bring some of those good habits with me now that I’m back to work, like taking a walk every morning.) I understand why retirees sometimes find the transition out of work difficult! These structures that we (and society) have built for ourselves can feel like a cage, but in some ways, they’re also holding us up.
Prior to my leave, I didn’t actually tell many people in my life that I was going on sabbatical. I had a deep sense of guilt, like, why do I get this amazing opportunity to rest, when others don’t? But overwhelmingly, the response from friends once I did tell them was not one of jealousy but of pride; many people in my life work for nonprofits, for labor unions, in government, and in careers that have major impact, and they acknowledged how hard it can be to step away from something that feels so meaningful. That said, while I was resting, everyone else was working, going to school, or busy raising their families — while I was not! I found sabbatical to be a little lonely and wished I had worked harder to set up plans and build myself a schedule prior to leaving SEARAC.
Is there a solution to these conflicting feelings about sabbatical? I think the best thing we can do is to offer MORE people the chance to take a paid sabbatical so that it becomes normalized and we can all shed our sense of guilt about taking time away from work. I know that’s a lot to ask of a sector that is facing threats from so many sides, but there’s no reason not to hold onto a vision of a world that we want to live in and a version of balanced work that we all deserve. And if you’re facing a sabbatical or period of leave of your own, try to tap into a sense of gratitude — not guilt — over the opportunity to embrace rest. Even when it’s hard.
Jenna McDavid is SEARAC’s Director of Development.