The Rooms We Belong In (Even When We Doubt It)

(By the way, I’m a long-form writer. Video/audio coming soon, if that’s more your thing.)

Or, here’s a TL;DR:

→ I recently shared my Backbone Resiliency Framework with an interdisciplinary group of researchers at the New Directions Workshop. I almost didn’t apply—because imposter syndrome. But the experience reminded me of the power of sharing early ideas, the magic of interdependence, and the people who open doors behind the scenes.

→ If you’re doing field-shaping work—even outside of an institution—you are part of the research conversation. Say yes to the invite. Share the idea. Submit the proposal.

→ Also: I’d love to meet the smart, values-aligned folks in your orbit. Keep reading to see why.

A Research Workshop—and an Identity Check

Last fall, a networking connection (almost all of whom I refer to as “friends”)–so okay, a friend–made an introduction to someone she thought I’d vibe with. We both worked in the “social impact” space, so she figured we’d have something to chat about. 

Honestly, most people not in the “social impact” world don’t really get what it is–which is fair–so I give her credit: she took a chance, made the e-intro, and left us to it.

At that time, I was in this desperate, scarcity-fueled energy where I only wanted to connect with people who might buy from me (yes, as a consultant, I run a business!). I was newer at this than I wanted to admit, and I thought everything would happen so much faster. 

Honestly? I didn’t think anything would come of the intro. But we set up a call anyway. The worst that could happen? I’d make a new connection, we never talk again, and life would go on. At the time, my definition of “a successful call”? 💰💰💰. Which is slightly different from Merriam-Webster’s.

We hopped on the phone and instantly clicked. We’re doing different things, but both care deeply about helping the nonprofit sector—and the world—work better.

After our conversation, he invited me to attend an annual event that he co-organizes–the New Directions Workshop, which brings together an interdisciplinary group of researchers with one big goal: 𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢-𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, & 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦).

But when I checked out the event’s website, I immediately felt so impostery. "Me? A researcher? But I'm not a real 'academic.'" (Although, let’s be honest–I am a wannabe academic.) 

He assured me I was more than qualified. I filled out the application, even tossing in a proposal to present my current work at the collaborative Jamboree. My inner critic protested hard:

“Just attend this year. Scope it out. You’re not ready to present.”

Thankfully, I didn’t listen.

And so, this past Thursday and Friday, I spent six hours with an extraordinary group of thinkers, doers, and dreamers from across the country and world—people deeply committed to advancing equity, justice, interdependence, and belonging.

It felt like home.

Here are the lessons I’m carrying forward.

1. What We Need More Of: Interdependence in Action

One of the first things that struck me about the New Directions Workshop was its framing. This wasn’t a conference about research for research’s sake. The agenda wasn’t just about publications or policy memos. It was centered on:

Equity. Justice. Interdependence. Liberation.

(Needless to say, my systems-change heart was all in.)

There’s something powerful about being in a room where those words actually mean something. The people there weren’t just trained to study systems—they were living out a commitment to change them. These weren’t buzzwords dropped in to sound woke. They were anchoring principles that shaped everything: how the event was designed, how feedback was given, and what kinds of knowledge were honored in the room.

That last one—interdependence—has been echoing in my mind ever since. If I’m honest, I’ve wanted to join a commune for at least two decades. Not because I want to churn my own butter (nah, that’s okay)—but because I want to live in a society where interdependence is baked in. Where it’s the default, not the exception.

It’s one thing to say we value collaboration. It’s another thing entirely to design a gathering around the belief that no one’s ideas stand alone. That our work—whether it’s rooted in research, community organizing, or consulting—is more honest, more powerful, and more useful when it’s shaped in relationship.

At The Collective Shift Co., that’s the work I live and breathe: helping partnerships build the structures, culture, and strategy to sustain collective work over the long haul. We talk a lot about systems, alignment, and sustainability—but underneath all of that is interdependence. The belief that we need each other to do this right. That no single initiative or individual can get us where we need to go, alone.

This workshop reminded me how hungry people are for spaces that don’t force them to choose between theory and practice, or rigor and values. We need more rooms like this—where big ideas are welcome and our full humanity is, too.

So let me ask you this:

What would it look like if our research, practice, and values truly aligned?

What kinds of spaces could we create? What kinds of change would become possible?

2. Impostor Syndrome Shows Up Loudest at the Edge of Growth

When I first read through the New Directions Workshop website, my stomach dropped a little. I saw the word “academic,” and I immediately thought, “But I don’t have my Ph.D…”

(A long-time goal of mine, but I’m not doing the 6-figures-in-student-loans thing again–another system that needs changing, btw). 

Sure, I’ve had a book review published in an academic journal (as an undergrad, though–says my inner critic). I was published in the international Peace Corps Times (the global newspaper for Peace Corps Volunteers). I’ve even written a few op-eds through various roles. I also have to remind myself I'm already an author (but a children's book! self-published! says my inner critic).

But still, I thought to myself: “Yeah, but that’s not like getting research published.” 

(Would I secretly love to get research published? Yes. So…not a secret anymore).

And yet—I had ideas. Real ones. Lived ones. Ideas born from years of working in national nonprofits and place-based partnerships, sitting in the messy middle between community needs, institutional systems, and the pressure to deliver outcomes that actually matter. 

And? I’ve called six academic campuses home–six!!! But even with all that experience, my inner critic was loud:

“This isn’t your room.”

“You’re not a real researcher.”

“Just wait until next year—play it safe.”

I almost listened.

What shifted? I gave myself permission to believe that my work belonged in that room—even if I thought I didn’t have the “right” title or pedigree. Even if it was just a first draft. I reminded myself that research isn’t just what gets published—it’s also what gets practiced, tested, and iterated in the real world. And I knew, deep down, that my contribution could spark something valuable. So I hit submit.

I’m so glad I did.

Because here’s the thing: if you’re doing work that challenges existing systems—if you’re experimenting, adapting, creating, responding—you are already part of the research conversation. You are shaping the field, even if you’ve never written a peer-reviewed article or stood behind a podium. 

(Also a secret goal of mine).

And I think we need more rooms that recognize that. More spaces where people doing the work on the ground are treated as knowledge holders and research leaders–not guests.

3. Jamboree Magic: When Smart People Push Your Thinking

I’ll be honest: I didn’t totally know what to expect when I submitted the research question I’ve been grappling with:

What are the systems and practices needed internally that build momentum, capture learning, and soften the human elements of very human-dependent work? And–can we do this work, the real work, without burning out?

Those questions have been the seeds of what I’m now calling the Backbone Resiliency Framework. I’ve shared early versions with a few other practitioners, presented it in two workshops (so far), and gotten really important feedback. 

But the Jamboree? It was something different. It was a dedicated space to put the framework in front of researchers who aren’t steeped in collective impact work 24/7. It was intentionally interdisciplinary, and folks showed up ready to give and receive thoughtful feedback on each other’s work. 

And when I say thoughtful, I mean thoughtful.

The five people in my group were brilliant, generous, and sharp as hell. First off, they had no problem understanding the model–which, if you’ve ever tried to explain what collective impact or systems change is to someone outside the field, is no small feat. 

But they didn’t just tell me what they liked. 

They asked questions that nudged me into new territory. 

They pointed out tensions I hadn’t noticed. 

They made connections I hadn’t considered. 

And they did it in a way that felt collaborative and curious. They were in it with me. It didn’t feel competitive, and I didn’t walk away wondering if I’d see my original work pop up on someone else’s website someday–in an “I thought of this” kind of way, not in a “this smart model was cited in our research” kind of way.

There’s something kind of wild about watching your idea come alive in other people’s brains—like it shapeshifts into something smarter and sturdier just because it’s being held by and reflected back by more than one person. That’s what happened here.

It reminded me that feedback doesn’t have to be performance. It doesn’t have to be a teardown. 

It can be care. 

It can be contribution. 

It can be community.

I walked away more committed than ever to refining this framework—not just as a consulting tool or a way to advance the biz, but as a learning model. A researchable, testable, adaptable approach that can support the field as it evolves. 

For one of the first times, I realized: Oh damn–I’m creating something real that people care about and that can help people, rather than, I’ve created a ‘freebie’ for my website. 

It’s that, “OMG it’s happening” goosebumps feeling.

I walked away so full of gratitude. 

I think we need more spaces where early ideas are treated as worthy of investment. Where we can say, “Here’s what I’m wrestling with,” and be met with curiosity instead of critique. 

Because honestly? This version of the framework will look totally different from whatever “final” version emerges–whether that’s a month from now, a year from now, or a decade down the line. 

4. A Bridge Between Practice and Academia (That We Desperately Need)

One of the most unexpected joys of the New Directions Workshop was getting to read other people’s one-pagers—small, brilliant sparks of research-in-progress from folks across fields. 

Some presentations were from doctoral students deep in their dissertations. Some were professors invested in a new generation of social change leaders. Some were nonprofit leaders testing new models. And some were practitioners-turned-researchers trying to connect the dots between what’s happening on the ground and what’s happening in case studies and research papers.

I kept thinking: This is the kind of room I want to be in more often. 

In fact, lately, I’ve been saying to myself, “I mean…I just want to hang out with really smart people and talk about making the world a better place all the time.” 

So those two days delivered. (Thanks, universe!!). 

Too often, the worlds of research and practice feel like they exist in parallel universes. 

Practitioners are buried in day-to-day realities, barely keeping the wheels on. “You want me to think six months ahead? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Academic books full of knowledge sat on my shelf while I reached for light fiction to wind down with after a long day.

And academics? They’re working within institutional timelines and publication pressures that don’t always match the urgency of the field. 

As a practitioner, I’ve partnered with community-focused professors on course projects that sometimes just… didn’t… deliver. 

And I’ve also been guilty of thinking, “You want me to think about evaluation before the project??” while co-writing grant applications with evaluators.

(Even though I know–and have been trained to know–better. 🤦🏼‍♀️)

What I’ve learned? Everyone is doing their best. And, there are a lot of missed opportunities.

But at New Directions, it felt different. I was sitting with people who weren’t trying to “fix” practice from a distance—they were trying to be in real relationship with it. They weren’t chasing jargon or prestige; they were chasing usefulness. They knew how to honor the messiness, not avoid it.

It made me realize: we don’t just need knowledge translation. We need knowledge integration. 

We need spaces where researchers and practitioners are learning alongside each other–not just handing work off across a chasm. Where feedback flows in both directions. Where shared learning is the default, not the exception.

And I can’t help but think this is a microcosm of how collective impact sometimes unfolds. 

We report back in meetings–but as a backbone facilitator, I always felt a yearning to truly observe and be in partnership in real time with community partners in their work. Let’s actually do a PDSA together–multiple times. Not just report back that we did it once.

This is the kind of work I try to do every day at The Collective Shift Co.—surfacing what’s working, testing what’s possible, and creating tools that make it easier to do systems change with people, not just to or for them. It’s a shared endeavor.

When we get it right, the possibilities are endless:

Better questions. 

Better frameworks. 

Better outcomes. 

Not because someone’s “the expert,” but because we’re willing to bring our lenses together.

We need more spaces like that. 

And maybe… we don’t have to wait for someone else to build them.

5. Behind Every Opportunity Is a Connector

Here’s the wildest part: none of this would’ve happened without an introduction.

Months ago, my friend Jess had a hunch. 

First off, she herself was a networking connection. We met through a virtual event that the Culture First Madison chapter hosted. Jess had a friend–Francisco–who also worked in the social impact space. She didn’t overthink it—she just sent an email and said “You two should know each other,” and let the connection do its thing.

At the time, I had no idea that conversation would lead to the New Directions Workshop. That I’d get to present my work, meet some of the sharpest (not to mention progressive and committed!) people I’ve encountered in years, and walk away feeling more confident in my ideas–and more open to where they could go.

It reminded me that so much of the work we care about starts with relationship.

Not strategy. Not visibility. Just someone thinking, “You two should meet.”

And the truth is—I’m one of those people, too. I’m constantly connecting dots between people, ideas, organizations, and visions for the future. It’s something I love and something I believe is essential to systems change. 

Maybe you’ve even received a message from me like, “You should know _____–she loves soccer and also was a Peace Corps Volunteer. _____ works in the same space as you, and you might have some synergy!”

We have to open doors for others if we want to break down walls. We all can connect with our heroes and find opportunities. (Reminder to self.)

So if you’re reading this and thinking, “Ooh, you need to know ____,” or, “This person’s work would totally resonate with you,”—I’d love to hear from you.

You never know what one introduction can lead to.

Know someone I should be in conversation with?

Someone building bold ideas at the intersections of research, practice, and equity work?

Send them my way–or send me theirs. Let’s keep the web growing.

P.S. If you’re wondering whether you’re allowed in the room—this is your reminder: you are. 

Say yes to the invite. Share the idea. Submit the proposal. 

We need your voice. 

Share this with someone who needs to hear it.