This topic is going to be a little different from my past
topics. Past topics have been academic in nature, but this is a more personal
story about my involvement with a charity called StackUp.
But before I start with the details of StackUp and my involvement
with it, I should mention that I have always had a desire to serve something in
some way, shape or form. But I needed something that I believed in; it couldn’t
be something like volunteering at a soup kitchen or an animal shelter –
although those are worthwhile pursuits. I wanted something that I could feel a
connection to and feel like I had a certain level of control.
Before StackUp there was Operation Supply Drop (OSD). I
heard of OSD in 2013 when I was introduced to their Indiegogo campaign. OSD is
a military charity that provides videogame care packages to soldiers deployed
overseas and recovering in military hospitals. The idea really spoke to me, so
I made a small donation. OSD’s founder and CEO, Steve Machuga, made a point of
contacting me to thank me for the support. Over the next two years I would
donate my old videogames to them.
Steve, a veteran who served in Iraq, had always found that
his Game Boys would help him with the stress, danger and boredom of deployment.
It wasn’t very long before he started getting videogames for his fellow troops.
He became known for it. So, in 2010, he started OSD to help guys like him get
through their deployments.
Then, in 2015, shortly after I made a donation, Steve
contacted me. I still don’t know all the details, but there had been some
internal conflicts, and Steve was no longer with OSD. He wanted me to contact
OSD and tell them that my donation was to go to him to distribute as he sees
fit – it was not for OSD. I sent the email that he asked for. Then Steve got in
touch again—he said he had things to discuss. The main thing he wanted to
discuss was that he was starting a new charity, which he would call StackUp.org,
to do the same thing as OSD. He wanted me to head up the New York chapter.
I discussed with some friends and family, and decided that
it seemed like it could be a worthwhile pursuit, and sounded like the kind of
thing I’d been wanting to do. The first few months were extremely slow – I
didn’t know what I was doing. But, gradually, we started attending community
events – especially those with a military connection. We were different than
other local chapters – “stacks” in the language of the organization. Other
stacks were mostly comprised of veterans, and functioned as social groups. We
were focusing on outreach, and we were connecting with other veterans groups in
the tri-state area – VFW Posts, American Legion Halls, Fort Hamilton (in
Brooklyn), and other military charities. We would bring tables to these events
and set up shop. We’d talk to people about what StackUp did. To get people
interested, we had a “push-up challenge” and a “selfie challenge.” If you could
do 30 push-ups in one minute or take a selfie in front our banner, post it on
social media and tag StackUp, we would give you a prize. I started the push-up
challenge after I went with StackUp to Pax East 2017, at which they had a
similar challenge.
Even though things started slowly, they began to snowball.
We would go to one event, meet people and make contacts with other
organizations, and get invited to their events. Eventually we were familiar
faces with The Mission Continues, The Wounded Warrior Project, APK Charities, a
few American Legion posts and VFW halls. Eventually I would even get honored at
the grand reopening of the American Legion Post in Weehawken, NJ.
But a problem was starting to arise. As time went on, we
were being invited to attend more and more events. Most stacks, functioning as
social groups, didn’t need a lot of supplies. We were doing outreach – and a
lot of it. For that, we needed business cards, information cards, small branded
items for giveaways. It became increasingly difficult to get the supplies we
needed. In addition, the Stackup T-shirts that we had were falling apart and
becoming ragged, but we were having trouble getting new ones. StackUp’s policy
was to provide one free shirt for each new member – after that, you were on
your own. There was a reduced price for members to buy new shirts. But even
though we tried, we couldn’t even buy shirts. At one point we sent money for
shirts. They told us it was the wrong amount and refunded it (instead of
telling us the correct amount). The inability to get new shirts was becoming a
big problem beyond the obvious issue of representing the organization in ragged
attire. Sometimes people would donate video game consoles. When we asked what
they wanted – maybe a receipt to use for a tax deduction? – they generally
asked for Stackup shirts. We were willing to buy the shirts out of our own
pockets to give to the donors, but we couldn’t even do that.
During this time, our relationship with Stephanie, the
Director of the Stacks Program, was deteriorating. My mother wrote about this.
As time went on, we attended more events all over the New
York metropolitan area. During this same time, we had a harder time receiving
any physical supplies for these events.
We would fill out StackUp’s pre-event forms as well as emailing the
Stacks Director and sometimes even the CEO of StackUp about our upcoming events
and our lack of StackUp branded information and other items. StackUp staff would either not respond or
inform us that they never received our paperwork or that they would send us
shirts and supplies. When StackUp did
not promote or include our events, we had mixed feelings. We still were making good connections at the
local level, complete with various honors and recognition. However, we wanted our events to count so
that StackUp would enjoy the full benefit of the number of events for their
annual reporting. We rarely received any
supplies and none in all of 2018. We
were not sure how to contact StackUp so that they would respond by sending us
the supplies we needed for our numerous upcoming events.
Right around this time Stephanie asked us whether we could
use gaming consoles at our events. We said yes, and StackUp sent us two PS4
Slims. The idea was that they would attract traffic to our tables. For some reason
that never made sense to me, StackUp could send us PS4s but not monitors or
portable protective travel cases with built-in monitors that made the consoles
usable at events. We spent several hundred dollars of our money on GAEMS cases.
Shortly after we received the PS4s, Stephanie emailed us inventory sheets that
she wanted us to sign. That would have been fine, except that the sheets stated
“I agree to return them…in the same condition they were in on the day I
borrowed them. I will also return the items immediately upon request.” The
clear language made us responsible for normal wear and tear, or for any
breakage (regardless of our care) or theft. We were also bothered about the
word “immediately.” If they requested return while we were on vacation, would
we have to cut our trip short to rush home and return equipment? We explained
our concerns to Steve and Stephanie. Initially Stephanie insisted that we
wouldn’t be responsible for normal wear and tear, and Steve agreed. But my
father pointed out (again) that the wording said we would be. At this point,
Steve agreed and told Stephanie to “remove that phrase from the inventory
sheet.” Stephanie sent us a revised sheet, in which she added the phrase
“normal wear and tear excepted.” But it still said “in the same condition,” making
the change ambiguous. It also still left us responsible if it broke or was
stolen. The change also didn’t address the question of immediate return.
Shortly afterwards, at one of the weekly online meetings,
StackUp staff mentioned that a few stacks were adamant about not signing the
sheets because they didn’t want to be held liable if something happens. The
staff insisted that they understand that things happen, and these forms are
just about getting assurance that the stacks will act responsibly. But this
didn’t address the fact that the sheets we were being asked to sign stated
otherwise.
Eventually Stephanie said that we would get no more supplies
until we signed the form. To resolve it, my dad and I played lawyer and
reworded the form. He signed it and sent it to Stephanie. He said that if it
doesn’t satisfy her we will send the PS4s back. She said that it was fine, and
that was that. Interestingly, we still didn’t get more supplies.
During the back and forth about the inventory form, we
mentioned to Steve that we had spent several hundred dollars on GAEMS cases. He
responded that we go above and beyond for StackUp and we shouldn’t be spending
our own money on GAEMS cases. In fact, he said on a few occasions that we shouldn’t
have had to spend our own money on this. But he never offered to reimburse us.
In December, 2017, Steve contacted us wanting to talk about
a few plans for 2018. He scheduled a phone call. I had just had surgery on my
eye and was incapacitated, so I couldn’t talk with him, but my father briefed
me on what was said. Apparently, Steve had felt that we were doing an
outstanding job as a stack; we had had the most events by a wide margin, and he
wanted to know what he could do to help us continue this work in 2018. My dad
had brought up the fact that we were very undersupplied -- we needed shirts because the ones we had were
ragged and we liked to give shirts to our contacts at other organizations.
Also, somehow, some of the paperwork we filled out around our events kept
getting lost in the ether. Steve responded to all of this with a promise of a
six-month supply of materials and shirts – at no charge. He also wanted to have
a follow up call with us. None of this materialized.
Going into 2018, StackUp promulgated new protocols for the
stacks to follow. The big new thing was that each stack would get up to $1000
per year to cover event-related expenses. We were told that, going forward, Stacks
that did a good job would get an increased budget in the future. Something
interesting to note is that, before this budget, we received scant supplies –
but we did receive some. Once the new budget was implemented, we didn’t get any.
In 2018, we found a greater and greater breakdown in
communication. According to one of the new protocols, Stacks were supposed to
have a monthly check-in with the head of the stacks program. This was essentially an email summary of what
we had done, what we were planning and whatever issues we were facing. In our
check-ins, we always indicated that we were low on supplies for our abundant
upcoming events (which we duly listed). But we never received a response.
Things came to a head in June. We were scheduled to attend an Independence
Day celebration at Fort Hamilton. We were going to be given free table space,
but the event’s organizer wanted us to have some kind of swag to give away. He
had seen at past events that we had almost no supplies, so he said to me that
they were happy to give us free space since we were a charity helping military,
but they were expecting us to come fully supplied. I had found out that there
would be thousands of people attending the event and, given what I was told, I
could not, in good conscience, go to the event empty-handed. I emailed Steve
(CCing Stephanie), telling him that we have this event at Fort Hamilton, but
have no supplies – our business cards, our info cards and our StackUp branded
wristbands were all gone.
Steve responded by asking “Have you requested all of these
goods from Stephanie? Was she aware you are out of supplies? Did you tell her
about this event? Has she been sitting on a supply request from you for weeks
without any mention of getting support?”
We answered him by forwarding the email requests that we had
been sending Stephanie over the prior six months, including the monthly
check-ins.
While this was going on, on June 26, we attended a veterans’
stakeholders meeting in New Jersey. We were presenting about what StackUp does
for the veteran community. Everything went well. A lot of attendees were very
interested and wanted to collaborate with StackUp – despite our not having
business cards or information cards to exchange with these other stakeholders.
That night, we found that our StackUp email accounts were disabled. Soon after,
we received an email from Stephanie (to my dad’s personal account) telling us
that our stack was being dissolved. She said a lot in this email. Instead of
trying to describe it, I will just share one typical paragraph:
I have emphasized that you exercise quality over quantity
for your events. You are only required to have 6 events within a calendar year
and currently you are running around one to two a week. You have got to slow it
down and focus on events where you are helping veterans in your community and
not nights out with the family at the park.
It was ironic to receive this message as part of a
conversation that began with our request for supplies for an event at a
military base – on the day we had attended (and I had spoken at) a military
stakeholders meeting, and shortly after we were honored by an American Legion
post for our help in fixing it up after it had fallen into disrepair.
But it gets better.
StackUp has a weekly online meeting that’s open to the
public. In these meetings Steve and his staff discuss StackUp business. During
the June 27 meeting Steve addressed our firing. He characterized it as “putting
us down,” explained that we had gotten “too big for our britches” and asserted
that we were the reason that Stephanie couldn’t adequately run the Stacks
program. We were, in his telling, taking up 90% of her time. He reiterated all
of the crazy claims and complaints that Stephanie had put into her email. And,
even though we had been the unpaid volunteers giving our time and energy (and
spending our own money) for the good of his organization, he talked about how
this was coming after everything
StackUp had done for us. My father captured a
lot of my own thoughts in an email he drafted to Steve the day after the
meeting. He decided there was nothing to be gained from sending it to Steve.
But, for the record, here is what it said in its entirety:
In letting our contacts know
that we no longer work for StackUp, Ethan and I purposely resisted the urge to
badmouth you, Stephanie or the organization. When they asked what happened, we
said that you had decided to dissolve our Stack. If they pressed for more
detail, we said that you were unhappy with what we were doing.
Having heard some of the
recording of yesterday's meeting, I am saddened that you couldn't extend us a
similar courtesy -- that you felt the need the to go on an extended rant in a
public forum, badmouthing people (including a kid) who had spent years
volunteering their time and effort, making donations and spending their own
money for the good of your organization.
For this email I am putting
aside the questions of who said what, did what and sent what. There's a lot
that I could say about that if I thought that it was worth the effort. But why
bother?
But the point is that you
couldn't muster enough class to simply say something like "It didn't work
out. They're gone." You had to trash us -- former volunteers -- in a
public forum. It speaks poorly of your character.
I wouldn't be surprised if any
of your current volunteers came away with the lesson that, though things may be
going well for them now, if things ever turn, you will not hesitate to trash
them. If that's the message you want to convey to unpaid volunteers, then I am
uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
The day after we got Stephanie’s
email, I began calling and emailing all of my contacts (and the members of our stack)
to let them know I was no longer with StackUp, and to cancel all of our
scheduled events. What made it even harder was that, over the next several
months, other people were trying to contact me through a defunct StackUp email
address. As late as April, 2019, we were still getting contacted out of the
blue, by people who thought we were still with StackUp, and wanted us to attend
their events.
It had been extremely difficult
at first because StackUp had been such a huge part of my life. I am an extremely
shy person, and being in StackUp was helping me overcome my shyness through
public speaking and networking with strangers.
But I got over StackUp and moved
on. Then, in early January, we heard from StackUp again. There were organizational
changes and they wanted to know if we were interested in coming back. We gave
it some thought – we had some mixed feelings. We asked several friends and former
members of our stack for their opinions, and they all said not to go back.
And
yet, it was tempting. I had enjoyed working for StackUp, and still believed in their
mission. And before our sudden departure, we had felt that we were making
progress in establishing ourselves as part of the military-supporting
community. I also know that organizations sometimes go through growing pains,
and maybe our bad experience could be chalked up as an aberration.
Having been betrayed, I
approached it cautiously. I had very mixed feelings and emotions. On the one
hand, I had enjoyed it, and felt I was making a positive difference. On the
other hand, when a dispute arose, Steve was willing to disregard everything I
had done for his organization over several years and bash me – an unpaid
teenage volunteer – on a public forum.
Keeping this apprehension in
mind, we exchanged a series of emails with StackUp leadership. We expressed
willingness to come back, but shared our reservations. In the end, I don’t
think Steve fully understood our concerns. He never acknowledged his role in
events – he blamed Stephanie for all the miscommunication, and wouldn’t accept
any more blame than to say he “dropped the ball.” At this point, we wanted everything to be
discussed by email so we’d have a record, and they kept talking about a phone
call. The communication ended; we couldn’t arrive at a meeting of the minds.
It has now been a month and a half
since our last communication with them. I feel bad, but it’s important to move
on. I know that all organizations suffer growing pains. I just hope that
StackUp can one day be the organization that it has the potential to be.