I worked at IAVA full-time for more than 3 years

Cons

The very name of the organization, Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America (IAVA), is disingenuous because it implies that the organization somehow speaks for or represents the vast majority of veterans that served in Iraq and/or Afghanistan. A more accurate name would be AIVA, An Iraq Veteran of America, because only one veteran matters at this organizaton, the CEO and Founder, Paul Rieckhoff. The organization has been functionally gutted. Due to the gross mismanagement of the CEO, even its referral program, which helps veterans connect with resources in their area and is, literally, the only program that actually makes a difference in veterans' lives, is now woefully understaffed and under resourced despite numerous, enormous grants meant to support the program. Where did that money go? WHERE TO BEGIN!? How about we start with the gargantuan office space large enough to fit two hundred staff? Beautiful space. It was a real steal we were told, "best real estate deal ever made in New York". Just one problem: IAVA has like 20 New York staff and the rent is 40K a month. It's literally ten times the space needed by a small non-profit to perform basic business operations, but STILL not big enough to fit one massive ego. When we moved into the new space, despite barely making payroll at the time, Paul actually put a good chunk of his operations team's time and brain space to drafting a build plan for a fancy theater inside the new office. Initial estimates for this renovation project? Oh, only half a million dollars. How this would actually serve veterans was never made clear. My theory is that Paul noticed Google had a theater in their building and decided it was exactly the kind of opulence worthy of him and his creation. Luckily, this half-baked project never progressed passed delusions of grandeur due to a huge financial collapse, but it illustrates how Paul's priority is always, first and foremost, APPEARING important, APPEARING innovative. When you're in the business of selling snake oil, appearance is everything. That's also why Paul loves television so much. If you get to be on TV, people will think you're important. And let's touch on the massive salaries that nearly sunk the organization this year. Marketing professionals with no budget to market, fundraising rockstars with no budget to fundraise, and consultants paid to tell Paul Rieckhoff information a regular staff person just told him three months earlier. People making six figures unable to do a single thing other than nod and execute some asinine task an intern could do. You can only imagine the buyer's remorse experienced when employees realize their sole function is to be a trophy in the CEO's case, something he can point to when a D-list celebrity comes to the office ("ah, yes, there's MY very expensive Marketing Guy, he used to work at The Ad Council, his work was amazing..."). Again, it's all about appearances. Paul likes to surround himself with successful people because they're more convincing than nice furniture to the suckers he brings by, but employees serve exactly the same function as fancy drapes at a posh dinner party. I've heard so many employees complain that Paul doesn't listen to them, but that's because they don't understand the role they're playing. Paul doesn't ask his desk chair for strategic advice either. Don't mistake me, however. You'll work hard! You'll be given dumb tasks and told to do them dumb ways and you'll be dumbly micromanaged by the CEO who needs his grubby hands in everything. You are to be his robot and robots do not have souls. Execute your function and stop complaining about your existential hell! The waste has been astounding, almost comical, until one remembers that poor saps actually donated twenty bucks online thinking they were supporting veterans. Or some gullible Foundation person swindled by Paul Rieckhoff's snake oil shtick. But, according to Paul, "We're doing GREAT! We're making history!". Oh, sure, we may be barely making payroll and our programs are hanging on by a thread. We may have had to cut personnel by more than a third, but hey, our CEO is still getting on television! And, really, isn't that the most important thing? And did you hear he's even friends with Rachel Maddow? What an important guy! And, remember, important people don't travel by air using FREE Southwest Airlines travel vouchers, compliments of a corporate partnership with the same airline. Too many layovers! Important people can't be inconvenienced by connecting flights. Nope, even during a financial meltdown of his own making, Important Paul needs those good, important people seats. And he's gotta stay in big, fancy important people hotels too. Just expense those things to the line item titled "Things Important People Need" in the imaginary budget. But despite all the harsh words I might write about IAVA's CEO and Founder -- and, believe me, he is universally despised by his own staff --, I recognize he's actually just a very disturbed man worthy of pity. His entire self worth seems inextricably tied to IAVA and he'll probably suffer a nervous breakdown when the whole enterprise finally crashes and he realizes he isn't so important after all. The real villains are those who sit on The Board of Directors, a group comprised of people who should know better. It's a group that, after the Chief Operations Officer resigned hours before the biggest Board meeting of the year -- the same Board meeting in which the CEO failed to present an actual budget -- didn't see a need to formally review the CEO. When IAVA finally collapses in on itself (and, by god, if there is any justice in the universe, it must), I hope somebody publicly asks these people why they did so little for our veterans.