If Eroc Arroyo-Montano died today, he would leave his kids debt, no land, and struggling to find a way to afford his funeral. Living in Jamaica Plain in a one story apartment, he wakes up each morning to bring his three kids on the train to start their commute to their three different schools. In total, it takes Arroyo-Montano two hours to get to work from the time he leaves his home.

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Arroyo-Montano works at a nonprofit organization battling against economic injustice. He works 50 hours a week on top of the several passions he pursues in his free time. Despite the middling pay and tiring work, Arroyo-Montano keeps a smile on his face as much as possible. In every way, he’s a do-gooder, a white-hat. Although his work is virtuous, he claims it pulls him away from his kids and does not make him enough money.

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Nia, 3, uses her father’s six-foot tall frame as a jungle gym. Kimani, 5, frequently is playing games or listening to podcasts on the family iPad and is always eager to share them with his dad. Isabel, 10, is asking for a phone much to her father’s dismay.

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Arroyo-Montano has two picture frames on his desk at work, with Kimani and Isabel in one, and Nia in the other. His work day shifts frequently from heavy conversation and meetings to solitary work on his computer. When he is left alone to work on his laptop, his eyes will slowly leave the screen until he zones out for a couple minutes by looking at the pictures of his kids.

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“People usually try to make more money after they have kids,” Arroyo-Montano says. “I did the same thing. I stopped a lot of my odd jobs to start working full-time. I make $50,000 a year now. This was my come up… I know I need to make more money.”

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Arroyo-Montano has thought about finding a new job — one that can adequately serve a family of five. But he makes the distinction, he has never thought of quitting. He believes his job is more than the nonprofit that employs him. His work and allegiance lies with the causes he fights for. The thought of leaving his job now pains him to think about — he winces whenever it is brought up. His job, according to him is “for the betterment of the world,” for the next generation of people to have an economy that holds everyone up, and not almost everyone back.

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“The next generation is what we’re fighting for. My kids are a part of that.”

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Eroc Arroyo-Montano is the director of cultural organizing at United for A Fair Economy (UFE), a non-profit focused on economic inequality.

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“I watched a lot of my peoples get thrown away,” Arroyo-Montano says about non-profits. The people he is referring to are people who were youth workers with him before they all ventured off into working at different non-profits.

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“People…get sick, people are tired, people are getting burned out. Usually it’s just like ‘yeah, you just go handle yourself and then come back when you’re ready,’” He says. “It’s not this understanding of ‘we’re in this together.’”

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The common description of his job is “exhausting” and something where he “can burn out,” but never says or gives off the impression that he, himself, is tired or lacking of passion. When describing himself, he’s got it down to a science, leaving no titles behind. He starts with the same title each time he’s asked. “I’m a father,” he says with a smile that lets you know exactly what kind of father he is. From there, he mentions that he’s an artist, specifying which art he means directly after, “I’m a rapper, and photographer.” He adds the following titles like a new memory comes to mind when the words leave his lips. “I’m an educator, youth worker, facilitator.” At the end of his list, he deliberately says “I’m an activist and community member.”

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On top of a 50 hour work week and the avocations that captivate him on the side, Arroyo-Montano has a lot on his plate. He meets other nonprofit employees through many of his off-work endeavors, and he claims that nonprofits can make it harder to keep those passions alive.

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“It’s hard. There are non-profits that will not pay people enough but expect certain hours, and certain things, telling them ‘now you’re on staff for 60 hours a week,’” Arroyo-Montano says. “Usually what they do is they use our love for people in communities against us, in order to keep people to do the work that they need to get done.”

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Three first impressions greet the visitor to the United for a Fair Economy office in downtown Boston. The boxes that are stacked from floor to ceiling and have not been unpacked since their move-in day six months ago. The vibrant people who are always ready to talk as long as a coffee is in their hand. And the feeling that everyone in the office can use a nap. There are not bags under their eyes. They are not dragging their feet across the floor, and they do not talk especially slow. But they repeat much of what they say. During meetings getting “off task” or going on tangents is part of the norm, and when they greet each other in the morning and ask “how are you?” the answer of being tired is generally accepted as a perpetual state of being.

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Arroyo-Montano is not afraid to talk about anything. At a moments notice, he will share his philosophy about the meaning of life, or what happens after death. He will even talk about subjects that are far more personal to him and his family.

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When talking about his financial struggles, the term “non profit industrial complex” is soon to follow. The book The Revolution Will Not Be Funded: Beyond The Non Profit Industrial Complex is hidden in the only drawer in his desk it will fit into.

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The book published in 2007 was written by INCITE!, a national organization committed to “end[ing] state violence and violence in our homes and communities.” The group of “radical feminists of color,” compiled a series of essays chronicling the effects and consequences of the nonprofit industrial complex. The books illustrates how the nonprofit sector is a trillion dollar industry. The essays focus on the social justice oriented organizations within the nonprofit sector, and how the structure of their existence makes it hard for them to succeed.

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Arroyo-Montano explains how the issue comes through many perspectives. Employees are underpaid for the amount of work they are asked to do. The funding of the organizations often dictates their focus. Yet the employees who may have more knowledge of the issues are being directed by their benefactors who commonly threaten to pull funding (which includes the employee’s paycheck) if their demands are not being met.

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“It’s hard to work like this. I feel like I could be accomplishing so much more if the system wasn’t set up like this,” Arroyo-Montano says.

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Mike Lapham is the Acting Director of development. In simpler terms from Arroyo-Montano, “he’s the one that talks to the rich folk. The rich folk that donate to this project. He’s really the one getting us this money.”

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“A big part of the nonprofit industrial complex is benefactors not being entirely behind our cause as it is,” Lapham says. “They have other opinions or ideas that they want us to work on in order for them to give us their money. Finding wealthy people who agree with our mission entirely and are willing to contribute is really hard. Like a needle in a haystack.”

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Arroyo-Montano hates his office. The plain white walls are decorated with one column of exposed brick and a picture of his grandfather. The pictures of his kids, plants and succulents take up the space of his desk that is not occupied by his laptop and the soup he’s having for lunch that he brought in a plastic container from home.

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“I struggle with it. I don’t like being in an office,” Arroyo-Montano says. “Just going to a cafe and being around folks. That’s nice, I need that.”

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Arroyo-Montano, the director of cultural organizing, shares his office, with two of his coworkers. The room is 13 feet from the window to the door and 15 feet wall-to-wall with all of their desks facing the edges of the room. They all have headphones on. Closest to the door is Riahl O’Malley, the popular education director. Next to the window is Jeanette Huezo, the executive director of United for a Fair Economy. Arroyo-Montano sits in the corner.

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“If they’re not here, I’m not here. What would I be here for? To sit?” It’s no secret that he works best with people. What he finds most fulfilling is conversation, meetings, or any kind of collaborative work. The other stuff, he finds tedious, and something that takes far more of his effort to do.

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Lapham is the one most frequently in the office. He is six-foot-four, clearly towering over his coworkers solidifying his consistent presence in the space. Lapham has been at United for a Fair Economy for 21 years and is the longest tenured member of the staff.

“Working from home isn’t really an option for me. I work out funding and contact possible benefactors, and there’s not really a better place to do that in the middle of downtown,” Lapham says.

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On an early Tuesday morning in mid-December, Lapham, Arroyo-Montano and O’Malley were starting the move-in process after a six month waiting period. Salsa music came on the speaker that Arroyo-Montano brought from home as he started to dance while O’Malley laughs and continues to stack and the unpack the boxes. Lapham abruptly leaves the soon-to-be conference room as he gets a phone call going into his office and closing the door behind him.

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After about 45 minutes, Lapham opened the door with a smile on his face, his chest pushed out and news to share.

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“We got a donation.” O’Malley and Arroyo-Montano both stopped labeling boxes and looked up at Mike standing in his doorway.

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“Go on…” O’Malley says while trailing off as he is more interested in the details around the donation rather than the specific amount.

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“They support us entirely,” Lapham says. Arroyo-Montano and O’Malley stop what they’re doing in disbelief before they go over to his office and look at the bank statement of the transfer they just received. United for a Fair Economy was given $1,500 from a sole benefactor.

 

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Arroyo-Montano considers the downtown area of Boston the loneliest place in the city. Like almost everyone else, when he gets off the train and walks to work he has headphones on and no intention of making conversation until he gets off the elevator of the sixth floor of his office building.

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“Like everyone else, my mind wanders when I’m by myself, especially when I’m listening to music,” Arroyo-Montano says. “I think about a lot. What I’m gonna do at work today, might think back to high school…may even think to the future, my kids’ future.”

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When thinking about his future, it’s always more than just the money he wants to make, but more about the time he would rather be spending with his kids. He is with them in the morning and their mother picks them up after school, and feeds them dinner.

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“I wish there was more time in the day. I want to be a part of their lives. I know I am already, but I don’t want them to think of me as the dad that’s always working,” Arroyo-Montano says. “Or always doing anything else rather than spending time with them.”

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Over the course of the week, there’s usually one or two nights that he stays out late for events with work or activism related events.

“Most people forget about the parents in the movement. Like, most events will be at bedtime. Some of them will offer spaces and people to care and watch the kids while we’re meeting, but at that point it’s 8 or 9 o’clock and I want them to go to bed,” Arroyo-Montano says.

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When Arroyo-Montano was in high school, he took part in a local program called AnyTown. The program was run through the YWCA of Boston and brought together social justice oriented students to collaborate and start initiatives in their communities. Some members of the program have stayed in touch. Another member of the program contacted Arroyo-Montano about attending a meeting to organize a protest on the state house – something Arroyo-Montano would normally love to participate in.

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The invitation was sent through an event page on Facebook that Arroyo-Montano opened on his laptop at work. He first checked the date and time which led to the realization that he could not attend. He swears to himself under his breath and catches himself before he spreads any negativity beyond his desk.

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“What’s up?” O’Malley says as he heard Arroyo-Montano’s reaction from his adjacent desk.

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“I just can’t make it to this event I wanted to go to. My friend told me about it a while ago,” Arroyo-Montano says. “Isabel has a school concert and I’m not gonna miss it.”

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It was never a doubt in his mind which event he would be attending, but more than anything, he wants to be able to go to both. Doing things he’s passionate about, and spending an adequate amount of time with his children is a balance that is hard to strike, according to him, there simply “isn’t enough time in the day.”

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Arroyo-Montano is dedicating his life to the causes he is passionate about. Causes that he well knows will probably not be solved in his lifetime.

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“An analogy I heard once and agree with was that we’re building a cathedral. A cathedral that takes 500 years to make. Not everyone involved will be alive for the 500th year, the year it’s done, the year it’s used. But without the work being done in the 200th year or the 300th or the first, it wouldn’t be built. We’re in like the 200th year now. We still got a ways to go,” Arroyo-Montano says.

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He acknowledged that his kids may not see the end of the cathedral either. “We’re far from being done, but to ever get there we can’t stop working.”

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“A lot of people need kids to realize that the need to ensure a better future for the next generation, I didn’t need that. I knew that already.”

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Arroyo-Montano’s passion does not stem from his past, or his present. It stems from the hope he has for the future.

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“I’m in a tough spot. I want to make more money for my family, but I could also argue that what I’m doing now is ensuring a better future for my kids. Regardless of what I do, I know I want to fight for these causes, against these issues. I’d feel like a sellout if I did otherwise.”

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Arroyo-Montano will start his fifth year at United for a Fair Economy in February on 2019. He has no intentions of leaving his job any time soon.