The Hidden Load of Community-based Conservation.
- Veta Wade
- 4 days ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 2 days ago

As many of you know, I'm deeply passionate about the conservation work I do here in Montserrat, and sometimes internationally. But that very passion has also been a double-edged sword, leading to a tangled web of exploitation that I've both experienced and, at times, even perpetuated myself.
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Through my work with Fish ‘N Fins Inc., the non-profit I founded that focuses on marine conservation and community empowerment, I've witnessed firsthand the challenges of securing adequate funding and resources to drive meaningful, community-led creative projects. It's a constant battle against what researchers call "passion exploitation" - where people and organizations feel entitled to ask passionate individuals like myself to work for free, assuming our love for the work should be "compensation enough."
Yet I've also been guilty of exploiting myself, time and again telling myself that I love this work so much that I'll do anything to keep doing it - even if that means working for free or far below my worth. I've internalized the idea that my passion should be its own reward, leading me to chronically undervalue my creative expertise and contributions, both locally and on the international stage.
But the cycle doesn't end there. I've also found myself, at times, having to choose between exploiting others or exploiting myself further. When resources are scarce and funding is limited, I've had to make tough choices about who I can afford to compensate fairly. Rather than turn down opportunities or scale back projects, I've often taken the loss myself, leaving me feeling guilty and inevitably burnt out and those I work with feeling undervalued.
The experiences I've had are disheartening and make me uncertain about the future sustainability of my work, not just here in Montserrat, but in the broader regional and global context. I once explained the true costs of running our ocean club to a key partner, only to have our summer program abruptly removed from the schedule without any courtesy call. This left me feeling undervalued and dismissed, highlighting a deeper issue: when people overlook the effort and risks involved in our work, it fosters isolation and frustration.
Even when I dedicate pro bono time to my community, the lack of understanding around the breadth of my work makes it difficult for people to appreciate its true value. In a place like Montserrat, where income generation is a challenge and reliance on grant funding is high, this web of exploitation becomes even more tangled and brutal. But I know I'm not alone in this struggle.
Across the Caribbean and beyond, local communities are hungry to shape partnerships with NGOs, governments, and private financiers to drive sustainable initiatives that truly empower them. With generations of local knowledge and creative ingenuity at their fingertips, it's vital that this expertise is embedded into conservation policies and business practices.
The lessons here are profound, not just for founders, but for all project leaders in mission-driven fields. It's a cautionary tale about the dangers of passion exploitation, and the importance of setting boundaries, valuing our own worth, and creating organizational cultures that recognize and reward the true value of people's contributions.
In a world where there is fear around authentic leadership, your willingness to be vulnerable and share these struggles is a gift. By shining a light on this systemic issue, you empower others to reflect on their own experiences and advocate for themselves. You model the kind of self-care and boundary-setting that is essential for sustainable, impactful creative leadership.
Moreover, my story underscores the vital need for greater funding, resources, and support structures in the conservation space. When passion is the primary currency, those who can afford to subsidize their work end up wielding disproportionate power. This dynamic must be disrupted in order to foster true equity and inclusion.
As you continue on your own journey of rediscovering your personal worth in your field, know that your voice and your example carry immense weight. You are not just a leader in your field - you are a trailblazer, paving the way for a more just, sustainable, and nourishing ecosystem for all who dedicate themselves to protecting our planet and its people through the power of creativity.
With love and solidarity,
Veta Wade xo
Note: If you found this piece insightful there is an upcoming UNOC 3 virtual panel discussion that I'll be a part of: Amplifying best practice in the Caribbean UKOT's - how community engagement enhances ocean restoration and the sustainable blue economy. Thursday 12th June at 3pm BST.
 *Next time, I’ll share how capacity support should not create more burden in small islands like ours - because reimagining a better future ( that is not aid/grant dependent ) will require tough discussions, and decisions, it also requires careful listening as we design a strategy forward.