We currently have several openings at Such Good People, a nonprofit celebrating its quinceañera—a term we just love that we learned from our one Latinx staff member. Founded by a self-described empath sitting on a pot of generational wealth and the husband who relies on her financially, we preach a gospel of performative wellness through synergistic work that emboldens inspiration, activation, and manifestation. I’m afraid we can’t be more specific about our mission than that.
For the many open positions we have right now, we strongly encourage applicants from communities underserved by nonprofits exactly like us: BIPOC, LGBTQIA+, maybe a person with a disability if it doesn’t require us to retrofit the two-hundred-year-old brownstone that one of our founders was bequeathed by her great aunt. We actively seek diversity and inclusivity because such practices greatly enhance our success rate with grant applications. But if those diverse opinions differ from our founders’ vision, we know you’ll keep those thoughts to yourself at staff meetings because—you’re such good people. And if you do speak up, we’ll gently but firmly remind you that our founders are the head of this family and they believe that employees, like children, should be seen and not heard.
We are the first to admit that our organization was not as diverse as it should have been when we launched in 2007, and that’s mainly because we pictured it, well, like our own family: suffocatingly white, simmering with epigenetic resentments, communication primarily through sarcasm and subtext. Over the past decade, we are proud to have expanded our definition of family, largely by tasking a photographer at our public events with finding the few good people who don’t look like most of us and taking lots of photos, which we then sprinkle liberally around our website and in our brochures.
If you’re a POC or queer in a way that we find non-threatening, stop by for an informal interview, where we’ll give you a little complimentary bag of Jordan almonds left over from our founders’ daughter’s abruptly canceled wedding (something we never, EVER talk about), and ask you naïve and sometimes offensive questions while putting a hand on your shoulder in a condescendingly parental way. If you’re fat or over forty, we might tell you that you’d look pretty if you lost some weight, or how that haircut adds ten years—but we would absolutely be doing this for your own good, just as our founder’s mother did for her.
Don’t get us wrong—we, of course, as required by law, welcome applicants of all ages and body types that can afford to live with a health insurance plan whose deductible is greater than what they’ll make in a year. Until recently, we employed a number of middle-aged people who’d helped to build our organization from its inception, but honestly, what were they even doing still working for us? It was time for them to leave the nest, and so, just as we did with our thirty-two-year-old son who’d been living in our summer house since college, we made conditions miserable until they quit, which also spared us having to pay any severance or unemployment.
When you come to our offices—we do nothing remotely because the upkeep on this dilapidated mansion costs a fortune and our founders think it’s a waste not to be here in person—don’t be surprised by the dozen or so folks with placards you’ll see outside. That’s just our former employees expressing their diversity of opinion, something we strongly encourage because we’ve been told repeatedly by police that there are no legal grounds to make arrests.
Don’t think of it as “crossing a picket line”—think of it as a family disagreement, like two branches of relatives contesting a will, or a large brood whose matriarch pits all her children against each other while the patriarch just stands in a corner smiling enigmatically, silently hoping it will all be okay. We are not suggesting that the couple who founded our nonprofit might be narcissistic and codependent; we are merely stating that it’s perfectly healthy to consider folks who helped build our organization dead to us if they had the gall to tell our founders that “good people” would provide better insurance and paid time off.
So peruse our openings (grab a coffee, it’s a long list) and fill out the online application form. Don’t be alarmed by the immediate solicitation for a donation—we simply want to see if you actually need a salary or if this will be a droll time-filler while you wait for your trust fund to kick in.
Oh, and don’t waste time googling us. After all, we’re family! Apply today.