I group up in a family of strong, competent and occasionally glamorous women. My Mother looked like Jackie Kennedy and was elected to the local School Board at the ripe old age of 30 with 4 children at home. My aunts were all accomplished lawyers, academics and social workers as well as mothers. My grandmothers were both fierce advocates for social justice. And they all cooked. Every. Single. Meal. They were and are amazing people who continue to inspire me.

Putzing along as the youngest of four, I was a tomboy fiercely proud of my family’s dynamic, adventurous commitment to public service (at 6 I had a fistfight in the school yard with a boy who tried to ridicule my father for being the local NDP candidate). It was an exciting group to be a part of. My siblings and I even played ‘Campaign’ the way other kids played house.

But a moment arose that stands as the one in which my feet began along the path that led me to become a non-profit advocate.

1975. A time of bell bottoms, Joni Mitchell and the Streets of San Francisco. My mother appeared at the front door as I came home from school (in those days 10-year olds found their own way home) wearing a great big red button that said ‘Why Not’ in big letters.

“What,” I asked, innocent of the life-changing moment about to happen, “is that about?”

“It’s a campaign,” she responded, equally unaware of the momentousness of the discussion. “If someone says ‘women can’t do that’ we respond ‘Why Not?’ Why not treat women equally? It’s a government program to advance women’s equality in Canada.”

“What? What do you mean, women aren’t equal?” If we had emoji’s back then I would have texted someone with the little one with the head blown off.

Not only had it never occurred to me that there were some things women couldn’t do, the women in my life did everything! Had careers, ran for office, made dinner, changed diapers, changed the world. Women weren’t equal, from my lens women were actually more capable than men!

“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard,” I said to my mother. “That is ridiculous. Why Not? Why Not? Why are they not equal? Why are we asking ‘why not’ when we should be asking ‘why? It doesn’t even make sense…” and I said a bunch of things along a similar vein. An early example of my capacity to rant!

Years later, after following my aunts into the legal profession, I was sitting at my desk in front of a new client. She shared a story I had heard many times that first year as a lawyer, of immigration, marriage, violence, escape, poverty. She had a baby in one arm and a toddler clinging to the other. She was strong and upright. A survivor.

I did my job and explained that she would need to find witnesses, she would have to testify about the abuse, and I outlined all the things she would need to do before the hearing and what my limitations where in terms of time and the rules of my law firm.

She sagged as I spoke and tears welled. I felt a shutter deep in my core. I dug through my bag for the pamphlet I had about a local women’s centre where they could help her find work in her pre-immigration field, connect her to resources, offer counselling. She left my office smiling.

I closed the door and cried for 10 minutes. Then I went into my boss’s office and gave 2-weeks’ notice.

My first job outside of law was with Margaret Mitchell, a Member of Parliament famous for speaking out about domestic violence in the House of Commons only to be faced with jeers and laughter from her fellow MPs. My job was to work with local non-profit organizations and help identify federal law reform initiatives.

What I saw, (and continue to see) is a group of mostly women running organizations that are doing everything – filling every gap, tackling complex issues, nurturing, changing, fixing, amplifying, challenging, demonstrating (in both sense of that word), studying, and walking with their peers through crisis.

Non-profits advocate, convene, build, connect, engage, heal, teach, feed the spirit and body, and lift up. It is a sector that employs women (70% + of the sector is female). Art, childcare, literature, faith, health, learning, guilds and trade associations – no matter what the topic, there is a non-profit involved.

And what I see are these organizations told over and over and over again that the best way to run their organizations is to follow colonial corporate practices that are destroying the very people and planet causing the harm. Most Executive Director’s I know spend a lot of time working around business experts telling them how to do things.

And as I followed this path, I started wondering, Why? Why do we tie non-profits to notions of the corporate world and its systems? Why do we think profit-making organizations will solve climate issues? Why do we think innovation will only be pursued if there is a profit motive when non-profits innovate constantly? Why do we keep trying to force for-profit corporate ideas of governance on organizations that are pursuing non-profit missions and visions? Why do we treat non-profit leaders with such disrespect as if they aren’t successful?

I know not all non-profits do good, and some have perpetuated colonial corporate practices with vigour – residential schools in Canada were charities after all. But why do we act like success in stockpiling wealth without paying taxes is what success looks like?

Suffice to say, from a conversation about Why Not? I have become, more than 40 years later, a person who asks Why? And it continues to lead me forward. What got you into this work?