6 min read

Let me tell you a story.

Names have been changed to protect the innocent (and not-so-innocent), but if you’ve ever volunteered your time, trusted your gut, or been quietly stitched up by an organisation that seemed lovely at first – this one’s for you.

A little while back, I volunteered with a local arts group – let’s call them Creative Space – to help improve their branding and marketing. The group had a new(ish) leadership team, and one of the new leaders, we’ll call her Anna, reached out. She had fresh energy, the right intentions, and, luckily for me, agreed that the group’s messaging needed a bit of love.

Which, to be blunt, it did.

The website was confusing, the logo looked like it’d been generated by a toaster, and no one could quite agree on what the group stood for. So we got to work.

Strategy First – The Fun Bit

A bunch of us contributed to some really thoughtful brand strategy sessions. These were generous, open discussions – the kind of collaborative work that actually makes a difference. We uncovered where the messaging was off, why it didn’t reflect the energy and talent of the members, and where the group could go next.

Not everyone was on board. A few of the more senior voices – let’s call one of them Ron – didn’t think any changes were needed. Fine. Fair enough. But they also didn’t join in with the strategy meetings. So they didn’t hear the why, or help shape the direction. They just... lurked quietly in the background.

Still, spirits were high, and I suggested a mix of achievable improvements and a few more ambitious ideas. They were well received. I was chuffed. Then came the next ask: would I redesign the layout for the group’s exhibition brochure? Input all the details for over 120 artists? Coordinate the artwork? Format the whole thing for print?

It was a big job, previously handled by their printer, let’s call them CopyQuick, with mixed results. The group offered a small fee for my time. Not loads, but it would help me pay some bills during the dreaded December–January freelance slump. And crucially, I was excited to have some impact.

So I said yes.

Things Were Going Well... Until They Weren’t

Then the leadership changed.

Anna stepped down. Ron stepped back in.

Suddenly, I was out of the picture. Not just off the project – off the brochure entirely. A disagreement over the print schedule for some display posters (not even related to the brochure!) led to what I can only describe as an abrupt U-turn. The work was handed back to CopyQuick, and that was that. No warning, no conversation. Just... gone.

Now, I’m not saying I deserved some dramatic exit speech, but I did deserve a heads-up. Especially as I’d already started the work.

What I Wished I’d Done Differently

Here’s the kicker. I hadn’t signed a contract.

Because it felt informal. Because it was a mix of volunteer work and paid work. Because I liked the people involved. Because I didn’t want to rock the boat.

And yet, when things got messy, I was left with nothing to point to – no agreement, no payment clause, no timeline, no version control, nothing. Just a trail of emails and a slightly sick feeling in my gut.

So Let’s Talk About Contracts (and Why They’re Not Scary)

If you’ve ever hesitated to ask for a contract because you don’t want to seem “too formal” or “difficult” – I get it. But here’s the thing:

Contracts aren’t about mistrust. They’re about alignment.

A good contract says:

Here’s what we’re both expecting.
Here’s what we’ve agreed I’ll do.
Here’s what you’ll pay.
Here’s when that’s happening.
Here’s what happens if something changes.

It protects both parties. It saves awkward conversations. It sets the tone. And it’s just good business practice – even if the job’s tiny, the client’s a mate, or you’re technically “volunteering”.

What Should Be in Your Contract?

Even a short, friendly agreement should include:

Scope of work – what you’re doing and what you’re not
Timelines – when things are due
Payment – how much, when, and how it’ll be paid
Feedback rounds – how many amends are included
Cancellation terms – what happens if the project is pulled
Credit – how you’ll be credited (especially for volunteer or profile-building jobs)

Don’t overcomplicate it. One page can be enough. Just write it in plain English, send it before you start, and make sure everyone signs it.

But What If It’s a Volunteer Role?

Even more reason to get something in writing. You’re donating your time, energy, and skills. That’s valuable. A simple “Memorandum of Understanding” or informal agreement helps clarify:

How many hours you’re offering
What you’ll deliver
What they’ll provide in return (credit, expenses, etc.)

This isn’t being pushy – it’s being professional. You can still be friendly, helpful, collaborative – and have a contract. Those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Why This Matters for Small Businesses & Creatives

Whether you’re a designer, illustrator, maker, or running your own business, it’s tempting to say yes first and figure out the rest later. Especially when the opportunity sounds exciting or a bit of money’s involved.

But your time is limited. Your energy is precious. And your reputation is worth protecting.

A contract helps you:

Set boundaries
Avoid scope creep
Get paid
Feel respected
Walk away (if you need to) without burning bridges

It’s also an act of self-respect. A way to say: my work has value, this project has value and I’m doing this properly.

Would I Volunteer Again?

Honestly? Yes.

But I’d do it with clearer terms, in writing, up front. I still believe in helping out when you can. I still think working with community groups or artists or grassroots organisations can be incredibly fulfilling.

But those same groups deserve clarity too. A written agreement helps everyone know what’s going on.

Final Thoughts

If you’re serious about levelling up your business, treating your work like a business is the first step. That means putting things in writing. Especially when the job seems "friendly", "low-key", or "just a one-off".

The truth is: the smaller, messier jobs are the ones that most need clarity. A contract doesn’t make things complicated – it makes things simpler.

Don’t learn the hard way like I did.

Next time someone asks you to help out, smile and say: “Sure, I’ll just pop a quick agreement together.”

Trust me, future you will thank you.

Why Even the Nicest Projects Need a Contract: A Hard-Learned Lesson