Sometimes Doing Good Isn’t Easy

I started this work because I wanted to do something good. Not perfect. Just good.

Picking up litter, building community, creating opportunities for folks to show up for their community and for one another. Over time, that simple intention has grown into something bigger than I ever imagined. More people. More impact. More responsibility.

And with that growth has come a lesson I didn’t expect to learn as deeply as I have; Sometimes, doing good isn’t easy.

Community work is often talked about as feel-good, uplifting, and unifying. And a lot of the time, it is. I get to witness generosity, kindness, and people showing up on their best days. That part still fuels me.

But community work also involves people. And people bring their full selves with them, their expectations, their experiences, their pain, and sometimes their projections.

Over the past year, I’ve learned that doing good work does not shield you from criticism. It doesn’t protect you from being misunderstood. And it certainly doesn’t prevent moments where your intentions are questioned, your character is challenged, or your leadership is reduced to something personal and hurtful.

I’ve been told I’m difficult to read (many times). That my responses weren’t genuine. That my efforts caused harm. That I’ve disrespected people I believed I was working alongside in good faith. I’ve been compared, accused, and spoken to in ways that crossed from feedback into something far more personal. 

None of that is easy to carry.

I believe deeply in listening. I believe in growth. I believe as a leader I should reflect, adjust, and own mistakes when they make them. That work matters to me.

But I’m also learning that not every criticism is an invitation to improve. Not every complaint is rooted in growth. And not every person who wants to help is able to do so in a way that’s healthy for the community or the mission.

Leadership, especially in volunteer-driven spaces, requires holding those boundaries even when it disappoints people. Even when it hurts. Even when it would be easier to avoid the discomfort and say nothing.

I remain deeply committed to what we’re building. I believe in community. I believe in shared responsibility. I believe in showing up, even when it’s hard.

And I’m learning that part of doing good is accepting that it won’t always feel good. That it won’t always be received with gratitude. And that choosing integrity over reaction is sometimes the quietest, strongest form of leadership (even when its hard as hell)

I’m still here. I’m still trying. And I’m still choosing this work, even on the days when it asks more of me than I expected.- Preston