Balancing a life in grassroots advocacy with being a parent feels like trying to hold two worlds in your hands while the weight of both threatens to pull you apart. Advocacy is not a nine-to-five job; it’s a relentless, 24/7 marathon of meetings, strategy calls, and urgent crises. On the other side, there’s parenthood—the constant need to be present, to witness your child’s growth, and to provide the nurturing love they need. The struggle lies in the tug-of-war between the professional passion that drives you to make the world better for them and the personal guilt that comes with being away too often. It’s an internal battle you never quite know how to win.
You got into this line of work to give your children a brighter future. The dream was simple: create real, lasting change that would provide them with more opportunities, a better world than the one you grew up in. You envisioned legislation that would improve schools, reform the justice system, lower taxes, or expand health care—all of it done to ensure they grow up in a society that values freedom, fairness, and opportunity. But as the years go by, you realize the dream doesn’t come without sacrifice. That sacrifice, too often, is time. Time with your kids that you can never get back.
It’s easy to forget just how much you miss when you’re always on the road, heading from one campaign to the next, from one legislative session to another. Your child’s first steps are witnessed through a pixelated video call from the lobby of a conference center. Their birthday parties? You might catch the tail end after a flight delay or miss it entirely because a last-minute vote kept you tethered to the Capitol. These are the kinds of memories that advocacy work eats away at, bit by bit, leaving you with the constant question: am I doing enough for my children? And if I’m not, how can I reconcile that?
Then there’s the other side of the equation—the work. The long hours don’t just take a toll on you as a parent; they challenge your very sense of purpose. Grassroots advocacy is all-consuming. During election seasons or legislative pushes, you’re working eighteen-hour days, answering emails and phone calls well into the night, fighting to move policies that could transform lives. The stakes are high. You’re often one of the few voices representing thousands of people who are counting on you to fight for their interests. If you drop the ball, they don’t get another chance. It’s not just your family depending on you—it’s entire communities.
But there’s a catch. What if you get it wrong? What if all the effort, all the late nights, the missed family dinners, results in a policy that fails? You spend hours in negotiations, compromises made in the name of progress, and then—nothing. Or worse, what if it backfires? The legislation you fought so hard to pass might make things worse instead of better. There’s no guarantee that all your effort will lead to success, and that uncertainty gnaws at you. The weight of it is enough to keep you awake at night.
And yet, you keep going. You push forward because the alternative—giving up—seems unthinkable. The passion that led you to this work still burns inside you, reminding you that what you’re doing is bigger than yourself. But that doesn’t stop the guilt from creeping in. You see the tired look on your partner’s face when you return home after weeks away. You hear the disappointment in your child’s voice when they ask why you missed their school play. The emotional toll is real, and it doesn’t go away no matter how successful you are in your professional life.
It’s a delicate balance between suffocating your children with guilt-driven attention when you’re home and feeling like you’re barely present at all. On the rare weekends when you’re not traveling, you find yourself overcompensating, trying to pack in as much “quality time” as possible. But even then, there’s always a lingering worry in the back of your mind that it’s not enough. Are they going to remember you as the parent who wasn’t there for the big moments? Or will they understand that the work you’re doing is for them, for their future?
What makes this balance so difficult is the unpredictability of both worlds. Just when you think you’ve carved out time for your family, a crisis hits—a bill is in jeopardy, or an urgent meeting is called. Advocacy doesn’t operate on a schedule that respects family life. The work is constant, and the stakes are always high. The world of policy and politics is unforgiving, and the pressure to be “on” all the time means that sometimes, family comes second, whether you like it or not.
So how do we, as parents and advocates, find a way to balance these two demanding roles? The truth is, there’s no perfect answer. But what we can do is set clear boundaries, even when it feels impossible. Scheduling non-negotiable family time is one step. If your calendar is always packed with meetings, make sure that at least a few of those blocks are reserved for your children. These aren’t just moments for them—they’re moments for you, too. Time to step back and remember why you’re doing all of this in the first place.
Another key is communication. Your family needs to understand the stakes of the work you’re doing, just as much as you need to understand how your absence affects them. Having honest conversations with your children about why you’re away so much can help bridge the gap. They might not fully understand the complexities of advocacy work, but they’ll know that you’re doing it for them.
And while setting boundaries and communicating is crucial, so is learning to let go of the guilt. As parents, we often carry the weight of guilt around like a backpack full of stones, always thinking we’re falling short. But no one can do it all. Not perfectly, anyway. Allow yourself the grace to be human. Some days, you’ll be a great advocate and a great parent. Other days, you’ll fall short in one or both areas. And that’s okay.
Perhaps most importantly, remember that quality trumps quantity. You may not always be there for every soccer game or dance recital, but when you are home, be fully present. Put away the phone, step away from the emails, and give your family your undivided attention. Those are the moments that matter. It’s not about being there all the time—it’s about being fully there when you can.
Finding a balance between parenthood and advocacy is never easy. It’s a constant juggling act, filled with doubt, sacrifice, and hard decisions. But it’s also filled with purpose. The work you do matters. It makes a difference, not just in the lives of those you’re advocating for, but in the legacy you’re building for your children. Yes, they might grow up with memories of you rushing out the door or taking calls late into the night, but they’ll also grow up knowing that their parent was part of something bigger—something that made the world a little better for them.
At the end of the day, we keep moving forward, doing the best we can in both worlds, and hoping that our efforts—both in the work and in our families—are enough. Because in both advocacy and parenthood, there are no guarantees, only the unwavering belief that what we’re doing is worth it.
Written By: Stephen Despin Jr. | Founder/Contributor
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