Reflections on Power Dynamics and Boundaries in Small or Growing Peer-Led Organisations
Introduction
I’m excited to finally share this article, as it combines several topics I have thought about often over the past few years! In short, this article aims to outline potential risks or challenges that small organisations – particularly those that are peer-led and based on a specific identity or experience – sometimes encounter. Tentatively, I imagine these risks may be especially amplified in the “growth” stage of an organisation, when an organisation or movement has already been established but is now scaling up to serve a much larger community. This transition period can come with an explosion of administrative tasks, legal considerations, new people interested in joining or seeking services, etc. Balancing all of these different considerations while also trying to meet what can often be urgent needs of marginalized or survivor communities can be an overwhelming task. Unfortunately, thoughtful guidelines, considerations regarding power dynamics, and feedback systems can all too often be placed on a metaphorical back burner, sometimes only being fully thought through after an issue occurs that brings them to the forefront.
I’ve never led a large (or even medium sized!) organisation myself: I just don’t have the right personality or neurotype to comfortably do it (my scrupulosity OCD would keep me up all night worried about the various ways that I/the organisation could potentially inadvertently cause harm; and so I tend to stick to small initiatives). However, that scrupulosity at times has been an asset in assisting behind the scenes on a large number of other organisations, typically in some kind of feedback collection or quality control capacity. More broadly, through research on related topics and connecting with friends who are involved in similar organisations, I’ve accumulated an incomplete but decently large set of anecdotal experiences on the topic.
All examples I include below are either based on reflecting on (and hopefully learning from!) my own mistakes or aggregate examples from multiple anecdotes with details changed/merged to be de-identified. Similarly, all examples are taken from advocacy or organisations where I have some kind of personal or lived experience (typically, organisations or advocacy movements focused on: disability, autism, neurodivergence, healthcare, childcare, the trans or queer community, survivor communities, veganism, etc.); as I wouldn’t feel right scrutinising movements that I’m not personally connected to.
My intention here is not to imply that any one approach is good or bad, as I don’t think there is necessarily a singular “best” answer to organisational boundaries and policies (outside of avoiding clearly harmful or exploitative behaviour/conduct). Rather, I think that even generally beneficial approaches can still bring specific risks, and identifying and thinking about the risks and how they might be handled if they do occur can often be helpful.
Very informally, I’m essentially trying to take my scrupulosity OCD over the past year or so and share it in a condensed way that may potentially be of help for others (especially as I do genuinely believe in the value of peer led, social-justice oriented organisations and advocacy!). This document is structured into risks and reflection prompts at the end.
Acknowledgements/References
I wanted to acknowledge Tisha Shah, Jenna Meehan, Ruijie Z, and others for many wonderful conversations that helped influence how I conceptualize power dynamics, boundaries, and accountability in organisations and advocacy. While I’ve never had the opportunity to directly interact with Kai Cheng Thom, I have learned a lot from reading her material on power dynamics as well and feel it would be remiss not to provide some kind of reference or acknowledgement here!
Potential Risks
1. If an initiative starts out in a very small, disempowered, or mutual way, it can be harder for people to realize that they have developed a position of power
Example #1: Suppose an initiative started as someone providing informal childcare support for friends and family. If someone is watching their friends’ children as a favour, they might naturally be comfortable taking some liberties asking their friends to occasionally help set certain activities up, especially if they know their friend is happy to help and/or has no problem saying “no”! However, those same requests may no longer be appropriate when they are offering a formal service to the broader community (e.g. if the informal childcare group turns into a school, caregivers may feel an obligation to comply with even unusual requests from a principal for fear of jeapardising their child’s registration.)
Example #2: Suppose a separate initiative started out as an informal connection group or peer-led event between adults who know each other well. In that setting, the person arranging the events might view their role as primarily logistical (e.g. checking what event is possible and works for everyone’s schedule), and may trust that their friends can give them feedback if anything needs to be changed. However, if the event grows, they may end up developing more positional power– potentially now working with employees or volunteers to set up the events, communicating with community members or attendees who may view them as a trusted figure (or may feel a dependency on their services/events), and potentially even interacting with people who have seen them through panels, events, or online platforms in a way that a strong parasocial relationship might develop. As such, the ability for someone to give feedback may become compromised due to a variety of reasons (fear of professional repercussions, attachments, others trusting them and feeling guilt over giving potentially critical feedback, etc).
In other words, the person may still view themselves as “just helping my community,” even though their role has changed considerably.
2. Urgency to grow and share the message or reach more people can outweigh the urgency to self-reflect or pause
Some community leaders or advocates may be very focused on the larger picture or main advocacy issue (especially as these issues can often be urgent and critical to quality of life) in a way that growth, sharing the main message, expanding services to more people, etc. becomes by far the top priority. At times, concerns affecting a smaller number of people, or that appear to be less critically urgent, may fall by the wayside. Likewise, efforts to reflect or collect feedback may be routinely delayed.
In specific cases, it may be the right choice to wait until a specific point to collect feedback, reflect on specific policies, etc. I can understand the concern about asking people for feedback when an organisation isn’t necessarily in a position to easily act on yet due to lack of capacity/bandwidth/etc.
However, there have also been situations where this can lead to smaller stressors or challenges accumulating in the meantime, or where “the right time to pause and reflect or focus on feedback” ends up being delayed or shifting further and further into the future.
Given that there may be a lot of external criticism of a movement (sometimes fueled by bigotry, lack of understanding, etc.), all criticism may also end up being brushed off as such or as people not being “supportive of the cause.”
3. Overextending oneself
There can be a tendency for people who care deeply about a community to keep expanding what they offer or wanting to offer more and more help, even as their capacity to do so becomes limited or as they are becoming burnt out.
For example, I once was familiar with a small (and overall quite lovely) business owned by people with significant family caregiving responsibilities. I was reading their reviews out of curiosity and noticed that they often cited the size of their business and their caregiving obligations in response to critical reviews, typically as a way to ask for patience or understanding.
To some extent, I get it – if someone is visiting a very small organisation, logistically the organisation probably doesn’t have a giant team to immediately respond to feedback (and some of the commenters were indeed being a bit pushy or impatient, as far as I could tell). I also can see where it is harder to respond to feedback if one is also juggling a family.
At the same time, I feel like the business was maybe overlooking the fact that their customers are still needing the same service regardless of what their family responsibilities are, and the customer’s experience of anxiety in waiting for a response probably isn’t mitigated by those factors. It almost seemed like an example of people overextending themselves a bit to create a nice service for the community and then feeling a bit overwhelmed when (at times) community members didn’t appreciate the service.
As a second example: At one point, I was really overextending myself to try and put together a weekly resource for neurodivergent families where I was. I had a lot going on in my life at the time and ended up having far more last minute cancellations than I expected.
Initially, I sort of justified this to myself by thinking that I was doing the best I could, that I was volunteering my time for free, and that it was out of my control that I was having so many unfortunate things happen. However, later I realized that – while it is true that I had a lot going on outside of my control – the impact on people who were waiting for these events was likely still a negative one, as they still had to deal with the constant unpredictability of whether the resource would ever actually materialise.
I have also been guilty of overextending myself in a desire to keep a resource going, and then needing to end it quite suddenly once the burnout fully hits.
In short, there is value in monitoring one’s own capacity and burnout, adjusting what one offers accordingly (to the extent possible), and trying to communicate about changes in advance (to the extent possible).
4. In some cases, someone who has a negative experience with an organisation may become alienated from the broader community
For example, if an organisation is the only organisation supporting a specific community in the area (or a very primary organisation that collaborates with all the other smaller organisations in the area), someone who has an extremely difficult experience with the organisation or a leader of it may end up feeling very isolated or unable to avoid stressful reminders at community events going forwards.
I had something like this happen myself after experiencing therapy harm– the following details are completely altered, but one could imagine that my previous therapist was a prodigious rock climber who was very active in the rock climbing community, while I was just beginning to explore a (hypothetical) passion for rock climbing. After experiencing a very complex situation in therapy with blurred boundaries and developing a deep sense of avoidance, I was unable to attend any rock climbing groups as my previous therapist was so extremely well connected and I worried about the possibility of running into her. It was only after moving internationally that I felt more comfortable rock climbing again.
There may therefore be value in considering whether people have ways of staying involved in the broader community that are relatively independent of one particular organisation or leader. For example, an organisation that is generally heavily involved in their community might intentionally not actively overlap with one specific event for their community, to ensure that those who have had a challenging experience with them still have at least one independent outlet.
5. “We’re all X” can sometimes flatten power dynamics within a group, and may lead to dual roles being overlooked
On one hand, having shared identities or experiences can be an enormous strength and can absolutely be an asset in creating a welcoming and relatively safe environment. On the other hand, community members or advocates might assume that they will be able to serve others in their community safely or easily, which unfortunately may not always be the case: even within a community there can be a variety of experiences, needs, and perspectives. Even if someone theoretically realizes that they can’t necessarily help every person in their community fully, they might assume they are unlikely to significantly harm someone (even by accident) or not think much about the possibility of harming someone.
I was absolutely guilty of a version of this when I first started autism research and advocacy. At the time, I had very much over-generalised my own experience. To give an example, I assumed that impeccable punctuality was a key accommodation for autistic people in general (based on how critical it was for my own sense of security at the time), without fully realizing that some autistic people may not need that at all or may even have completely opposite needs (e.g. may find keeping track of time to be challenging).
Similarly, community members may have multiple roles in relation to one another. This relates back to the first point, where being part of a shared community doesn’t necessarily eliminate the power dynamics associated with other roles (e.g. employee-employer, volunteer-supervisor, participant-facilitator). Particularly in small communities, people from the same organisation or advocacy group may often run into each other outside of their work or advocacy (e.g. all the staff at a small 2SLGBTQIA+ organisation might independently attend the only Pride march in town). This can sometimes create a tension between “being part of my community” and “being very cautious of the positional power I may have”-- which is itself an interesting and complicated topic beyond the scope of this paper, but my goal here is just to mention that the tension often exists!
6. Intersectionality may be acknowledged in theory without being strongly emphasized or understood in practice
This is another one that I have been guilty of at times. In theory, I acknowledged that many groups are under-represented in autism advocacy and believed in the value of creating a far more inclusive environment, but often fell significantly short in practice. (Not just in the sense of not fully understanding all the unique experiences and identities people have– that will always be a work in progress! But also in the sense of not fully understanding my own limitations, how they might impact others, etc.)
More broadly, if power dynamics are flattened to one specific dimension (e.g. autistic vs non-autistic, neurodivergent vs neurotypical, transgender vs cisgender, trauma survivor vs not), there can be a risk that other aspects of one’s identity or experience may be overlooked, dismissed, tokenised, etc. For example, even within the disability community, ableism based on cognitive disability is sadly common (as in the world at large).
In some cases, there may even be a risk that “power” and “vulnerability” are defined primarily through that one specific dimension, in ways that obscure other forms of positional power and vulnerability. This doesn’t mean that the original dimension of power is unimportant; rather, it is a reminder that people can simultaneously occupy different positions of privilege, vulnerability, and power depending on the context.
For example, suppose an autistic leader at a neurodiversity-focused organisation is supervising a neurotypical volunteer. If the supervisor ends up crossing boundaries during supervision, there is a risk that the non-autistic volunteer may be perceived as less vulnerable and the situation potentially treated with less urgency, even though the volunteer’s neurotype doesn’t cancel out their positional vulnerability in the organisation and the power imbalance in supervision.
7. There can be a risk of stress or harm from dependency, particularly if the dependency is combined with unclear expectations
Example #1: If an organisation is offering multiple different types of support (e.g. mental healthcare, social or community events, ways to get involved in advocacy, childcare), those attending may gradually view the organisation as a central part of their life – and, in some cases, perhaps a primary or even sole source of support. I don’t think that dependency is inherently bad, but it does bring potential risks. In particular, if the organisation were to suddenly close or scale back services, or if for any reason the person was no longer able to access services, it could be an extremely hard loss.
Example #2: An advocacy group has a clearly defined platform, but facilitators try to err on the side of a non-hierarchical approach and have fairly flexible boundaries (e.g. regularly communicating socially with collaborators or interns, offering to be a resource after the advocacy period ends.) While many community members appreciate this, some end up feeling hurt or taken aback when the connection scales back very quickly after the advocacy period, as they had been led to believe the organisation was truly building a community or social network.
In short, I think there can be value in clarifying very specifically what an organisation can and cannot offer. This does not necessarily mean becoming more rigid; rather, being transparent about the specific type of flexibility and support one does or doesn’t offer and how/whether it may change over time.
There may also be a difference between what an organisation explicitly promises and what someone could reasonably infer from its behaviour. For example, an organisation may technically say that it cannot guarantee ongoing or individualized support or that facilitators are not there to be friends, but if it routinely provides that support or if facilitators act as friends (similarly to the above example), community members may reasonably develop those expectations regardless.
8. Good principles can sometimes be misused to justify blurred boundaries (what I like to call “ethical camouflage!”)
Good principles such as being flexible, prioritising connection, etc. can sometimes end up being misused (even if unintentionally/subconsciously!) to justify blurred boundaries or lack of structure.
As noted above, I don’t think flexibility or informality are inherently bad. In some cases, they may be exactly what makes a peer-led organisation accessible and welcoming, or may be a much needed break from excessive hierarchies and bureaucratic approaches members encounter in the external world. However, they can bring risks that are worth thinking through.
Additionally, they can often be labels that people reach for when feeling defensive– e.g. “I wasn’t trying to overshare to my (employee/mentee/volunteer/group member), I was just trying to build connection” or “I know this would normally be a questionable practice for a leader of an organisation, but it’s justified by the other person’s neurotype/communication style/specific background/etc.” For an excellent article on boundary creep (geared towards clinical practice, but with some great underlying ideas), here is a link with more information: https://www.neurodiversecounseling.com/blog/2026/7/23/boundary-creep-in-mental-health-practice
In short, it can be worth regularly reflecting on one’s own intentions and practices as the organisation’s structure and needs change.
Potential Reflection Questions
Power and changing roles
How has my role changed over time? In what ways have these changes impacted me and the type of power I have/don’t have?
In what ways might I have power over other people?
Am I counting on people to trust that I won’t use my power against them? (E.g. assuming that people would know I have good intentions or wouldn’t be worried about retaliation).
Do I feel uncomfortable with the amount of power I have? (E.g. wanting to be seen as a safe person, as a community member, not wanting to be seen as a “leader” or similar)
Has anyone expressed that they were nervous to give me feedback? Am I assuming people will feel comfortable giving me feedback?
Scope, expectations, and dependency
To what extent do I/my organisation or project clarify what we can and can’t offer people?
Are there things that people could reasonably infer that we offer, even if we have not explicitly promised them?
Are there specific identities or experiences within our community that we may be less knowledgeable about?
Are there any initiatives that I anticipate the organisation might need to stop or suddenly scale back on in the future? What might the impact to a community member be if this were to happen?
If someone were to become unable to access our organisation, would they have other sources of support or community?
Have people expressed feeling very reliant on our organisation or uncertain where they would go elsewhere?
Have people seemed disappointed when certain types of connections were not offered (or were not extended beyond the scope of a program/initiative/etc)?
Flexibility and boundaries
Are there ways that principles I value (e.g. flexibility, connection, or being neurodiversity-affirming) that could unintentionally lead to unclear boundaries or expectations based on the way I implement them?
Are there practices that worked well when the organisation was smaller but may need to change as it grows?
Sustainability and overextension
Are there any ways that I feel overextended or burnt out currently? To what extent is this impacting (or might it impact) what I can offer others?
Am I continuing something because it is realistically sustainable, or because I feel guilty about ending it?
Am I relying on my work to meet my emotional or social needs? I don’t think it is inherently wrong for someone to have their needs met through work; however, it can call for more self-reflection to ensure the needs aren’t leading to blurred boundaries or difficulty attending to situations that don’t help one feel emotionally fulfilled.
Reflection, criticism, and accountability
What type of harm am I most worried about causing?
Paradoxically, sometimes we can be at the greatest risk when it comes to “opposite harms” – e.g. a leader who worries about being overly rigid may be at risk of overlooking harm related to over-flexibility and vice versa; a leader who worries extensively about harm related to a specific identity or experience may be more at risk of causing harm when it comes to other identities or experiences they haven’t placed as much thought in, etc.
If someone had difficult feedback or a difficult experience with me specifically, where could they bring that feedback to?
What steps or supports would I have in processing challenging feedback?
Am I leaving enough room for smaller or less urgent concerns to be taken seriously, even when there are much larger and more urgent issues happening?
Independence from community/exiting community
If someone were to have a personal or professional falling out with me, are there ways they could easily still stay involved in the broader community?
For example, if I am a leader of a small movement or local organisation, would they be able to find another organisation or group that is relatively unaffiliated?
