In college, authorship was a straightforward formula. You wrote the paper, and your name was at the top. Such credit meant ownership, a direct connection between you and every word. The completed work was included among your academic history, or as a writing sample you may use in the future. This writing knowledge accompanies us into work life. Individual contributors are mentioned in reports and publications, and a name on a report confers responsibility and credibility. Slowly, your identity becomes entangled with the work that carries your name and represents your experience and input.

However, recently, the Leah Zallman Center published ICED IN, which found that in Massachusetts, ICE is testing the rule of law and changing the climate of our communities from safety to fear. This time, we made the unusual decision to publish the report without identifying the individual authors who wrote it. This was not an unpremeditated decision but one made with the input of many advisors for safety reasons, due to the current political climate of doxxing and censorship, and the harm that’s been targeted at people who speak out. Our shared organizational voice ensured that staff were not personally exposed.

Although the reason was clear, we still hesitated. We are socialized to associate writing with acknowledgement. A byline validates effort and it is something to look back on and say, “I did this.” It drives career growth and provides professional access. In its absence, the relationship between input and recognition seems less concrete. In community health work, however, the dynamic shifts and we are no longer in academic circles where personal assessment comes first.  The mission takes precedence over personal credit in the workplace, specifically in sensitive matters. Using an organizational name in publishing helps to strengthen the idea that this was collective  work. It shifts the emphasis from personalities to findings, spreads responsibility, and focuses on a common cause.

Ultimately, there is still value in seeing your name attached to something you worked hard on, but it’s worth recognizing that it’s not the only way to measure contribution. Sometimes, the work matters more than who gets credit for it. In situations where visibility needs to take a back seat, whether for safety or for the sake of a larger mission, letting go of individual recognition doesn’t take away from the impact. If anything, it reinforces why the work was done in the first place. It reminds us that what we contribute doesn’t disappear without a byline; instead it becomes part of something bigger by informing choices, serving communities, and contributing to the larger discourse. And by speaking with a single voice, ICED IN now belongs to everyone it was made for.