I am submitting my resignation from the Board of Directors of the Brooklyn Zen Center, effective July 31, 2026.

Why now?

I have served for six consecutive years, 42 in dog years.

Even without up-to-date bylaws to say so, I am past my shelf life.

I would like my cortisol levels to return to normal.

But seriously…

It has been a lot of work.

When someone would ask me, “Why as a non-Buddhist are you serving BZC?” I would reply that I was invited, I accepted, I found the work consistently challenging, I liked the community, and I thought that I could be useful as an ever-discerning, adjacent member of the sangha, an inside-outsider, if you will, with an arm’s length perspective and a set of skills not present on the Board in 2020.

My journey with BZC began at Union, where I was head of development, and a new colleague, Greg Snyder arrived one day, with a big idea. It was my department that stewarded the initial funding relationships that resulted in Union’s Buddhist program. Greg and I became friendly colleagues, though I never saw him in action in the classroom or the temple.

Over the years, Greg made various overtures for me to join the Board; I was always too busy. Once I had left Union in 2018 and the pandemic was fully upon us, he returned during COVID’s first year in a fit of Board building, which resulted in a number of new Board members, nearly all were very busy professional women, mostly women of color — and me. I did not know it at the time, but would later learn, in Greg’s larger dream for BZC, I was destined to head the development office of the new enterprise that would include a Buddhist seminary, an imaginative act of prospective transposition from one seminary to another.

Early in my time at BZC, with the organization still an entrepreneurial mom and pop business, nominally in the hands of a very skilled, nonprofit professional serving as an unpaid executive director, but really still fully on the shoulders of the founders, we had a small retreat with our consultants, TDC. Two days away from busyness. By the end of day one, the founders and the executive director were all in tears, the room tense. We spent the next day unpacking the mess. Two things became clear: 1) the founders were in crisis; 2) just keeping the basics moving forward would be a challenge without a shift in staffing and funding.

On the street in Boston during those two days, Greg and I were walking together and he asked if I would be Board chair. I immediately said, “No, thank you.” He said, “Why not?” I replied, “I don’t want to work that hard.” And yet, three years later, after a cascade of crises resulting in an exodus from the Board, I became, by default, Board chair, presiding over a Board of two. What an absurd situation, to think that BZC was one Andrew Harris away from me, alone, being the Board of Directors. Take what you will from that development; it does say something concerning about where BZC’s leadership was at the time.

It brought back memories of my youth, when the 60s toy industry offered its upgrade to “hot potato.”

For the next ten months, Andrew and I — working very closely with the Teachers, staff, and an ever-growing cast of outside helpers — were on the phone everyday, sometimes multiple times a day in uncharted territory. In addition to the ethics crisis, we were also in the midst of a trust crisis with the sangha — with fractures within the community and deleterious effects upon membership and the annual fund — and a financial crisis with our funders. We could not pay our bills. A perfect storm.

Those in whom I could confide would ask, “Why do you stay?” My reply was that I was committed to doing my part to manifest the best outcome under the prevailing conditions: a changed set of circumstances that I would regard as stable. 50 years working in the nonprofit world, I have seen a kaleidoscope of organizational indicators of health and dysfunction. I had been in turnaround situations before; I felt that “I would know it when I saw it.” All of this was happening with me living equidistant between Brooklyn and Millerton, and unable to be regularly present at either place. And so I was routinely available thanks to the miracle of digital embodiment (so much Zoom), with in-person appearances for highpoint events.

Over time, and with me happily relinquishing the chair’s role to Andrew, things began to shift.

• BZC has been profoundly reshaped by an ethics crisis that would shake any sangha to its foundation.
• Two new, fabulous Board members joined in fall 2025, bringing their transformative energies with them.
• A host of sangha-led committees was spawned addressing issues of ethics, finance, governance, and development/membership.
• A workable plan for ending BZC’s adventure in Millerton was embraced by leadership and the sangha.
• Christ Church showed itself to be the most accommodating and generous of partners.
• A new, major donor stepped forward to stabilize BZC’s finances in FY2026 and FY2027, with prospects for greater assistance in future years.
• The finance committee revved to life and, in partnership with the Board, helped to deliver the FY27 budget.
• Communication with and engagement of the sangha has increased.
• We are charting a “normal” year ahead, complete with a robust, and properly funded, healing program.
• We have a promising plan for membership and communications.
• Three new Board members — importantly: sangha members — joined in the summer of 2026. (Albeit, white and male; working with what we’ve got!)

That’s my story, a refresher for some, news to others. It feels to me as if we really have turned a corner. It HAS been a journey. BZC is poised for a more compassionate and sustainable future, true to its Brooklyn roots.

Dark Side Martin — Sarah’s favorite version, brought to you by the left hemisphere of my brain — has something to say, apparently, “Please don’t fuck it up!”

THANK YOU to all of my beautiful friends and colleagues at BZC. What a dazzling bunch of jewels!

With much love & in gassho,
Martin