An Ah-Ha Moment

I had a real ah-ha moment this week. 

I find it a bit embarrassing to admit that my epiphany was the direct result of a random Google search.  But, it was, and sometimes you take inspiration when it comes. 

In any case, I stumbled upon a blog post by a fundraising consultant/prospect researcher named David Lawson (read Lawson's post here).   Lawson contends that we've missed the boat in our efforts to be donor-centered.  What we really need to be – and what our donors want us to be – is mission-centered.  He notes that when he gave his grandson a train, he wasn't waiting around for the thank you note (though I would argue that's still no excuse for not sending one!), but what he wanted was to see his grandson enjoying it. 

Lawson challenges us to "imagine the thank you letter being replaced by the mission letter."  Our donors, he argues, should "form bonds not with the askers, but with the people whose lives they have impacted."  That's pretty deep and I've been pondering exactly what that means for a few days now.

My best conclusion thus far is that the real sweet spot comes in the intersection of the donor-centered and mission-centered approach.  What we all really want to know is that what we do makes a difference. When I donate, I don't want to be thanked for writing a check. I want to be thanked for making it possible to make progress on an issue I care deeply about.

If we go back to Lawson's train analogy, he really, I believe, wants to know not just that his grandson likes playing with any trains, but specifically with the train he picked out. There's mission and donor-centeredness there together.

My role as a fundraiser – a broker of dreams – is to not only appreciate and provide positive reinforcement for giving, but to be the translator for how giving becomes progress toward a better world.  I suspect we don't always do that translation very well because we assume that real progress is big and splashy and game-changing.  But, the reality is, most nonprofits are working on really tough, complicated problems – issues that have not been resolved by the marketplace or government intervention.  So the progress may at times be slow, or in fits and starts, or maybe in the form of learning what doesn’t work. 

Yes, game changing moments occur.  But I need to be sharing all of the progress along the way with our donors, because they make all of that progress possible.  And, I need to frame all of that impact from a donor-centered perspective. 

So, I'm thinking about my role a little differently.  I'm a translator:  I translate an individual donor's choice to be philanthropic into impact.   I've got some brushing up to do on my vocabulary and I'm still not sure I know all the grammatical rules for being such a translator, but I'm eager to try.

What's your response to Lawson's idea of replacing the thank you letter with the mission letter?  How would you do it?   

The Social Norms of Giving

For those wondering how our 4^th grade philanthropy presentation went, rest assured the kids were great, we learned a lot, and we're starting work again tomorrow on refining our vision and story to get ready for meeting with potential funders….more on that soon.

A friend forwarded me this fascinating article from the New York Times Opinionator, entitled "The Destructive Influence of Imaginary Peers."  It describes recent academic research around the concept of "social norming" – an academic aka for the potential to use peer pressure to champion a social good.

In a nutshell, researchers on college campuses have found that they can significantly decrease student drinking behaviors not by nagging or highlighting dangers, but simply by proving that most students on the campus don't drink as much as their peers think they do.  We are all, whether we want to admit it or not, just trying to fit in.

The article notes that social norming seems to have a powerful impact not just on stopping behaviors we deem "bad" but also on encouraging people to do more "good."  As Michael Haines, one of the researchers quoted in the study notes, "You don't have to change the social norm.  You just have to show people what it is." 

Perhaps it's the late hour at which I type this, but as someone passionate about promoting philanthropy, I find this research almost prophetic.  Maybe instead of wringing our hands in frustration that national giving rates haven't grown, as if moral disapproval will spark more philanthropy, we should spend our time showing how frequent and common giving really is. 

As I think about it, social norming has been at the core of this whole 4^th grade and philanthropy project I've stumbled into.  That very first day, when we talked about philanthropy, we realized very quickly that everyone in the room already was a philanthropist.  We started with feeling really good about the giving they have already done – no matter what it had been.  I remember writing soon after that first visit that they felt empowered as they realized they were already givers, problem solvers, people who had the chance to change the world.  And, from there they were off, brainstorming about real projects they could tackle next…not first, but next. Because they were, after all, already philanthropists.

So now I'm envisioning a movement focused on showing just how common giving is in our society.  We all do it, all the time.  Kids do it.  Adults do it.  Companies do it.  It's what we do.  If 87% of Americans give time or money to causes they care about, then it sure seems like we have a powerful social norm to start promoting and growing.  Maybe we've just been telling the wrong story.

(It's funny/sad/ironic to note that I found this stat on the percent of Americans who give from a Chronicle of Philanthropy blog post focused exclusively on how many people don't give –"A Growing Number of Americans Don’t Give to Charity, Poll Finds"). 

What do you think?  Is it too Pollyannaish to think we could reframe the philanthropy movement and make more progress?

Philanthropy & the 4th Grade Part 2

Wish us luck!  Tomorrow morning at 9 a.m., my daughter's fourth grade class will make their "philanthropy" presentation to the principal, asking for his support of their dream to lead a fundraising effort to improve their playground. 

What started as a simple, 45-minute session many weeks ago (see January 31^st post) on defining philanthropy and how it might fit into their classroom economy has literally snowballed into a project of some serious dimensions.  Talk about bold vision.  These kids are amazing, every single one of them, and it has been so rejuvenating to spend an hour each week with them for the past five weeks as they embrace the concepts of giving, raising money, and leaving a legacy for their school. 

Picture these scenes:

1.  The whiteboard at the front of the room had today's schedule written up in that perfect 4^th grade teacher handwriting.  The morning was full of time for reading, math, science, etc.  The afternoon read:

12:30 Lunch 

1:00 Read Aloud

1:30 Philanthropy

2:30 Spirit Assembly

3:00 Jobs

3:10 Dismissal

I have to admit, it made me smile to see Philanthropy right up there with Lunch and Math on the to-do list.  Powerful. Imagine if that happened more often.

2.  Six kids are ready to kick-off the presentation tomorrow. They'll say their name, age, and what class they are in.  Then, collectively, they plan to say, "and we are philanthropists."  Gives me goosebumps:  all those young voices together identifying as philanthropists.  They can spell it, say it, and most definitely feel it. 

3.  Me:  So, what does it mean to be a philanthropist?  Student: We solve problems.  Seriously, this just might be more inspiring than any professional development workshop.  I love it.

The project has definitely grown organically.  Ms. V-B and I had no idea what exactly we were getting in to, but apparently after our discussion about philanthropy and how the world needs people willing to help others solve big problems, the class was over-the-top excited about doing something for their school.  We've talked about what they could do with their "kid power" and ultimately settled on creating a vision for additions to the playground – a fitness trail for kids who want to burn off more energy at recess, and a quiet pagoda space for kids who want a place to read or sketch. 

We've split the class into three groups.  Working with another parent who is an architect, a "design" team has learned about making a site map to explain their vision.  It's rich with detail and drawings and it's also realistic – all lessons learned over the last few weeks.  A video production team has worked with a high school student to make a short video to "show" the need.  And, a presentation/fundraising team has been working on planning some do-able fundraising events and is pulling together a presentation to give to local foundations/funders.  

Every single student is engaged.  They want to know what happens next.  One of the students has to miss tomorrow's presentation and he asked if we could videotape it so he can see it.  They are philanthropists and they wear their title with pride.

The presentation/fundraising team is actually the largest – a rather astonishing thing to consider, really.  The two things adults express as greatest fears – public speaking and asking for money – are clearly nothing to be afraid of in the 4^th grade.

I've been wrestling with why this is and what it might teach us as adults working in philanthropy.  Perhaps these 4^th graders are, literally, the epitome of philanthropos tropos.  They are so excited about, engaged in, and committed to their vision that they can only imagine inviting anyone and everyone they know to be a part of it.   They don't yet have their own baggage associated with money and so the invitations to give are simply invitations to be a part of something "awesome."   

I keep thinking…what if all of us in the development profession could return to that unabashed conviction for our causes, shedding our awkwardness about money and the hierarchical barriers it can build and instead wholeheartedly embracing the awesomeness we make possible.  Perhaps we all need to spend some time again in the 4^th grade.

I'll let you know what happens as our story unfolds.  No matter what, I love the idea that when some of these kids run into the word philanthropy again in high school or beyond, they'll crack a smile and know exactly what it means.

Any suggestions or ideas for what we can do to keep the 4^th grade philanthropy momentum going?  Why do you think these 4^th graders are so eager to be fundraisers?

"Real" Charity & the Tax Code

There's a church across from the pizza place in town that has a marquee showcasing a clever saying each week.  I see it everyday on my way to the post office.

This week it reads "Real charity doesn't care if it's tax deductible or not."  I've read it at least a dozen times and I think I've finally figured out why it has been bothering me so. 

It's not because I whole-heartedly disagree with the sentiment.  I do believe that people give for a variety of reasons and most of them have little to do with a mathematical calculation from their 1040 form.  That said, I disagree with the statement and I think it perpetuates our societal hang-ups about giving and charity. 

Yesterday I listened to a fascinating TED talk by Dan Pallotta entitled "The Way We Think About Charity is Dead Wrong."  It's 15 minutes I'd recommend viewing.  Pallotta contends that American views of charity trace back to our Puritanical roots, where giving ultimately was a form of "penance" for success.  Framed in this light, giving is a moral obligation forced from economic achievement, but wholly separate from and not driven by basic market principles.

That's what the marquee this week is offering – that only "good" or "real" charity is done purely selflessly, without economic benefit.  But, we live in a capitalist society where much of what we value comes to be understood in an economic context.  What's so wrong with giving that is done with feeling and emotion AND careful analysis and economic benefit?  Must giving that produces a social benefit preclude any individual economic benefit?

I'm a believer in a society where giving is so valued, so recognized as a part of the human experience, and so respected for its positive social impacts, that our primary economic systems incentivize it.  To me that doesn't de-value the philanthropy but rather multiplies its importance.

For the last six months, the news has highlighted again and again the threats to the current income tax deduction for charitable contributions.  Amidst complex mathematical models that predict the impacts on giving under different tax scenarios and the moral arguments about who benefits, I keep coming back to the same argument in defense of the charitable tax deduction. 

Like it or not, our tax code has become a societal scale weighing what we value.  Remove the tax deduction now and I believe giving will take a huge hit.  Not just from wealthy donors who will find their itemized tax bill altered by the change, but from everyday donors who don't actually benefit from the tax deduction now.  Simply changing the rules will devalue giving. It will send the signal that it's not so important anymore.  It shifts the context and something that our government (society) once cared about suddenly won't carry that authority.   If, in the end, eliminating or restricting the charitable tax deduction causes the philanthropic pie to shrink, do we really think charity has become more "real?"  I don't.

What do you think about the charitable tax-deduction?  I'd love to hear your thoughts on this complex topic or on Pallotta's intriguing platform. 

Listening & Hearing

It was a simple enough idea.  Invite three donors to a meeting of our Board of Directors to answer a few questions about why they give.  It became my most profound fundraising moment of last year.

The inklings of the idea were rooted firmly in self-interest.  We were gearing up for our big Annual Operating Fund drive and I wanted to inspire our whole organization to dive in head and heart first.  I knew that nothing motivates me more than hearing other people's stories about their giving.  I figured if I wanted help, I needed to inspire.

I invited a major donor I knew well, a long-time donor whose story I did not know, and a couple who supports us through their local business.  I wanted a panel with different perspectives and people who would not simply say what I hoped they would say. 

The rewards came early and often.  Turns out simply inviting people to share their perspectives was one of the best donor outreach touches I've ever made.  Truth be told, I was pretty nervous before I made that first phone call. Somehow this seemed to me like an inconvenience or asking too much.  I was so wrong.

Everyone was flattered and grateful– even those who couldn't participate.  All of the conversations provided a genuine chance for me to say thank you and to ask for their help with something meaningful other than a check.

The panel itself was powerful.  Hearing from real, live donors saying in their own words that they consider it an honor to give was better than any fundraising article I could have found.  Their thoughtful answers were real—including what we wanted and didn’t want to hear.  This wasn't a sugar-coated, staff-constructed "training" for the board.  This was a real look into what it means to work with and on behalf of donors. Board members listened with rapt attention and they heard.

Thanking the panelists the next day also turned out to be a joy.  I found myself in long conversations with each donor as they shared what they learned and I shared what we gained.  It was, I realized, a very deep form of donor recognition.

The impact has been palpable.  I still find myself ruminating about one panelist's answer to why she entrusts our organization with her support every year. I've had numerous conversations in the last few months with Board Members who reference something said that night. 

Much of what was said can be found in good fundraising classes, books, conference sessions, and even blogs.  But here's what struck me as profound:  the simple invitation to listen to our donors transformed our relationship with those panelists and the art of hearing what they actually were saying, I believe, transformed the way many of us see fundraising.  Sometimes you just have to ask – and not just for money.

As a donor, would you like the opportunity to share your perspectives with an organization you support? If so, what would you highlight?

In Defense of Events

Well, I decided I'd keep writing for a bit (and I'm going to help my daughter's class put together a proposal for their legacy gift to their school).  Thanks for continuing to follow along!  Here's what I've been thinking of this week:

Fundraising events often get a bad rap.  If you simply compare revenue to expenses (including staff & volunteer time), too many events can look high risk, little reward.  They can also become the convenient excuse to avoid meeting donors one-on-one.  It's too easy to get so caught up in what the centerpieces will look like, that you can lose sight of the mission. 

I agree that events can be tricky.  You have to know why you are doing them, what you really want out of them, and you have to be grounded in what it will take to pull them off successfully.  They certainly aren't a panacea and you can't let them detract from your efforts to get to know your donors and their stories individually.

All that said, I love a good event. 

I love the energy.  There's nothing quite like a room abuzz with people who share the same hopes, dreams, and values for a mission.  A good event can inspire your staff, your board, and your donors to really feel that progress is possible and that you are, in fact, building a movement.

I love the chance to express an organization's personality.  If you are a serious organization, then host a serious event.  If you are a creative organization, hold a creative one. A good event shows and differentiates the culture of your organization in a way that's hard to do in direct mail or even one-on-one conversations.

I love the idea of philanthropy as a collective action.  On many levels choosing to give and to whom is a deeply personal, individual act.  I think it is important for the future of philanthropy for us to also see it as a group effort.  There's something magical and meaningful about people meeting each other at events that are for causes bigger than their own entertainment.

I love the idea that philanthropy can be the centerpiece of our civic life. I find it inspiring to think that at least in my little rural community, our social calendar is most often filled with fun events that support charitable causes.  Years ago, Harvard Professor Robert D. Putnam wrote a seminal article (now book) called Bowling Alone, in which he laments the passing of the community bowling league (and other "civic" commitments like the Elks Lodge, etc.) as a harbinger of an isolating new culture that could doom our social capital and democracy.  I'm feeling more hopeful, however, than I was when I read that article in grad school.  If well-executed charitable events can replace the bowling league as the "thing" we, as a society, choose as a core place for making connections, I actually think we're on to something even better.

In an era of conference calls and Facebook, texting donations and online giving, I stand as a strong supporter of the well-planned, thoughtful, old-fashioned, gather people together event.   I think we need events because we all crave community.  Savvy nonprofits that really will change the world have to start by building a sense of community around their mission.  Match the craving with your mission, throw in some fun, and you've got yourself the makings of a movement.

What do you think makes a good event?  Do you love them or loathe them? 

Eight Weeks

Eight weeks. Two months. About the length of time a male (yes, male) emu sits on his nest of eggs.

This blog has been my incubator of ideas on philanthropy and I committed at the outset to eight weeks of quiet reflection. This is week #8.

This post will not be the birth announcement of the brilliant, revolutionary, new project I have nurtured into fully being over the past eight weeks. That's ok. That was never the point. I'm not an emu after all.

I started this blog because I was craving thinking space. I turned 40 this year—and though I haven't yet felt a need to own a red convertible, I have felt myself ruminating on the impact I want to have in the next 40 years. I also had the great fortune to host a college intern this past summer and she got me thinking about why I am so passionate about my work and philanthropy. Toss in attending some amazing, thought-provoking conferences and voila a blog is born.

I've purposely approached each week as simply a chance to think. I've challenged myself not to look too far beyond the eight weeks, to not set up expectations of what this leads to, but rather to just be on the journey. (That, in and of itself, has been a real test and success of this little project for a goal-oriented, Type A-er like me).

But, here I am at week 8. And, I'm not sure what's next for philanthropos tropos.

I am certain about several things:

• I've benefited from the thinking space. Just having a little room to step back and see the really big picture is making me a better day-to-day fundraiser. I wish every Development professional could find a way to build into their usual work life some deep thinking space. Understanding your own feelings about giving is paramount to a long and successful career.

• Expressing your deep, philosophical thoughts in writing is hard. Doing it concisely is even harder. I think I've become a better writer in the last eight weeks-- a good reminder that we get better at what we do.

• I value most of all the conversations I've had with many of you. Whether in person or via email, you have responded with your own answers, questions, or thoughts. You’ve made me think harder and deeper. I like that. Thank you.

• I will never understand how to get my posts to single space or make my photos bigger on Blogspot. It's clear that I'll leave the artistry and graphic design realms to others in my family.

• As a society, we are still at the early stages of really understanding philanthropy – what truly motivates it, how to grow it, and how to ensure it has real impacts. When we figure all that out, we will change the world.

• I love fundraising. I love making the match between donor and mission. I love saying thank you and meaning it. I love doing something that makes a difference.

For all of these reasons, this has been a really great eight weeks. The question I'm pondering is whether I should post something next week.

You all are my crew – my carefully selected, trusted group of colleagues, experts, friends, and family. I'm hoping you'll help me. Is it time to stop pondering and ruminating and find a way to get more involved – join a board, volunteer with AFP, start a fundraising support group in the Methow, test one of my ideas in a local classroom, etc.? Or, if I still think I have topics to grapple with, should I keep posting and writing, even if no one follows? I'd really value your honest thoughts, so if you don't want to publicly post here, please send me an email (sarahbrooks72@gmail.com) or call me.

Thanks for reading along each week and may the fire and optimism, hope and blind faith of philanthropos tropos stay ignited in you!

Lead with the Thank You

Sometime last fall, my husband and I made our annual donation to our college alma mater.  To be honest, I felt ambivalent about it.  No doubt, we have a strong affection for our college.  It is where we met, where we learned to really think and analyze, where we literally grew up.  

But, with a limited philanthropic budget, I wondered if our relatively minor gift would actually make a difference at an institution with a budget in the millions of dollars.  Could our dollars stretch further locally, with an organization for whom they would represent a major gift? 

I wrote the check, like I have each year for many years now.  If I'm brutally (and embarrassingly) honest about it, I did so for two reasons:  1) (the good reason) because I do have a real fondness for a place that touched my life immensely and I take some personal pleasure in acknowledging that with my donation, even if it is just a drop in a very big bucket; and 2) (and here's the embarrassing reason) because I secretly like seeing our name in the Annual Report with the little number superscripted next to it showing our years of consecutive giving.  Actually, I like thinking that other people will see our name in the Annual Report with the little number superscripted next to it. 

So, the check went in the mail and I vowed to re-think this gift next year.  A few days later, we received an email from the Development Office.  In addition to the standard, but nice, thank you language in the email, I found a link to a video. The next two minutes knocked my socks off and removed all sense of ambivalence.  It was the best thank you ever—and the best way to ensure I'll give again next year unequivocally.

I thought about including a link to the video here, but I realized it probably wouldn’t have a similar impact on you if you hadn't attended my college.  Because, that was what is so perfect about it – it completely captured the quirks, the sense of place, and the values that are 100% what I associate with my college.  Those few minutes reinforced my "good" reasons for wanting to give.  It made me smile.  It helped me see it was still a place where people like me can grow up.  It made me feel like even my small gift was worth thanking.

Quick sidenote:  I am not suggesting that all good thank you's need to be videos. What grabbed me was the clever, witty, thoughtful approach to saying thank you that so fit my sense of the nonprofit.  That match is what was effective, not the format.

I have no memory whatsoever of what the college said in their solicitation letter to me and very few memories of all the communications pieces sent throughout the year.  But, as a donor, I will never forget this thank you.  Wearing my Development professional hat, I realize this is brilliant—and right.  Our giving strategies should be rooted in honest, genuine gratitude.

During my very first few weeks working in fundraising as a graduate student, a Board Member told me that we should never plan an event or direct mail effort until we could envision how we would thank people.  I now understand the full impact of what she was suggesting.

This year, as I plan my fundraising strategies, I'm going to lead with the thank you's.  I'm not just going to remember to say thank you and recognize all of our donors.  I'm going to start there – to think first about how we show the impact donors have in ways that uniquely "fit" our organization and what they value about us. Once I can envision the thanking, I suspect the rest will become clear.

I'd love to hear examples of your favorite thank you's.  When have you felt not only that your gift has made a difference, but also that in the process of saying thank you, the organization reinforces what you love most about them? Do you agree that thanking is a good place to start?

My First Time

My first time was pretty terrible.  I felt pressured, confused, and coerced.  There was no emotion, just a desire to get it over with.  After, I never talked about it, never felt good about it.  It definitely didn't turn into a long-lasting relationship.  It's amazing I ever did it again.

Giving, that is. 

My first, real philanthropic memory isn't the picture perfect story that naturally leads to a lifelong career in fundraising—and yet, as I think about it, it did ignite my passion for inspiring a different kind of philanthropy today. 

It was 1994 and I had just graduated from college.  I was starting my first "real" job, turning my Economics major into a very handsome paycheck at a large private consulting firm in a vibrant city. I was forging my own path right into big business – away from the academic/teaching traditions of my family.

After a few days of orientation, locating my shared desk in a maze of cubicles, memorizing my voicemail passcode, and trying to find comfort in wearing a pair of nylons and a middle-aged skirt suit everyday, I remember one of my senior mentors handing me a stack of paperwork.  "It's time for our annual 'Combined' Fund Drive," he told me.  "Our office always leads the firm." 

Young and eager, I was interested to learn more about a Fund Drive.  My family was undoubtedly philanthropic, but it wasn't a topic we discussed regularly at the dinner table.  We didn't go to auctions and galas, and I admit I only vaguely knew what a "combined" fund was (it is an effort to "pool" funds raised and then distribute them to nonprofits within a community). 

About 90 seconds into his "pitch," the conversation took a turn.

He made it clear that I would need to participate in this campaign – it was expected.  Everyone in the office did it.  Our Partners cared about raising the most within the firm and therefore we all joined in.  I remember being told that it would be "painless," that the accounting department would just take a bit out of each of my paychecks and "I'd never even know." 

Somewhere within I knew this wasn't how giving should feel.  But, by Friday, I caved.  I did it like everyone else. I filled out my form, added my dollars to the thermometer charting our office's "win" over the Dallas branch, and wham, bam, thank you ma'am, I was a donor. 

Years later, after I had left that culture for the relative safety and familiarity of graduate school, I found myself re-claiming my first time giving.  Armed with a much smaller bank account, I experienced the joy of writing my own check directly to a nonprofit I had discovered that spoke to my soul.  No pressure, no one saying I had to because someone else was expecting me to.  My donation was infinitely smaller than whatever amount I had actually given through my "you'll never notice it" payroll deduction, but I felt it -- a sense of pride and empowerment at adding my individual voice to a cause I cared about. I had found the real power of giving.

Today I recognize that part of my drive to start a movement for philanthropos tropos is rooted in a desire to ensure that others have better first times.  In an era of high pressure telemarketing, too many gifts that go un-thanked, and a far too common feeling that giving is just something you do instead of an expression of what you value, I fear too many of us have dissatisfying first times -- and that's why we've been stuck at a national giving rate of about 1-2% of GDP for so long.  I was philanthropically lucky – I ultimately found a way of giving that was everything it should be.  What if we could ensure everyone had a great first time giving?  I can't help but think that could be the start of a real giving revolution.

What's your first time story? How has it affected your feelings about philanthropy? (Maybe this is my first book idea!)  Do you agree that if we could provide more good first times, we could ultimately inspire more giving? 

Philanthropy and the Fourth Grade

My daughter's fourth grade has a classroom economy.  Students have jobs that pay different amounts, they owe rent on their desks, and they earn bonuses or fines depending on meeting (or not) goals and expectations.  It's a real-world way for them to talk about money, responsibility, and how economics works. 

We talk about the classroom economy a lot at dinnertime and I'm fascinated by the aspects of it that stand out for my daughter.  She already wonders about fairness and how to be ethical in her role as one of the classroom bankers.  Being the classic only child of a fundraiser, she also wonders how to incorporate giving.  I offered to go into her class and talk about it.

Ms. van Bueren had written the word philanthropy on the chalkboard when I arrived.  It was fun to watch the students pour into the room and immediately try to pronounce it.  A few had heard the word and associated it with giving and sharing, but for many it was a new term.

What struck me, however, was that there was nothing new about the concept.  Keeley's class is definitely very diverse socioeconomically, yet every single student lit up as I asked for examples of ways they have given or shared their time or talents or treasures (thanks to this wonderful website: http://learningtogive.org/ for that great phraseology).  They all blurted out real examples of how they had helped a neighbor, donated food for the food drive, or volunteered at a community event.  One girl shared how proud she was to donate to a horse rescue operation for her birthday.  They all agreed it feels really good to give and that this feeling lasts for a long time. They might not know the word philanthropy, but they definitely know what it is.

Our kids are the seeds for philanthropy and at the ages of 9 or 10 at least, they see it as a good and wonderful thing.  But, because we don't purposefully and directly talk about it, kids aren't thinking of themselves as philanthropists. When we teach about something it becomes worthy and important.  Mrs. van Bueren's class was already a room full of philanthropists in their own ways, but they didn't know it until we talked about it. 

Now they do.  And, apparently, they spent the next hour after I left discussing what they want to do as a class to help the whole school. I love the idea of a whole 4th grade of philanthropists and I wonder how can we nurture this feeling that philanthropy is fun and meaningful in the grades beyond.

People often ask me what our organization is doing to help get kids involved – and I'm sure by that they mean how are we teaching kids directly about our mission of conservation in the Methow Valley.  But, maybe in addition to the important conservation-based educational and fieldwork opportunities we can provide, we have a responsibility to get kids involved in our philanthropy.  Giving them a voice in protecting a place they love might be the most empowering conservation message we could teach. And, maybe, by empowering them to be philanthropists, we'd learn a thing or two about how to ensure our messages and mission stay relevant over time.  Who knows…we might even spark the fire for a future fundraising professional.

Do you think nonprofits should engage youth in philanthropy or does that somehow feel manipulative? What can I do with Keeley's class as a follow up to empower them as philanthropists?

Why Scott Harrison Was Right...and Wrong

Scott Harrison went no holds barred at the International Association of Fundraising Professionals (AFP) conference last April. 

His nonprofit charity: water is a relatively new social media and fundraising force raising millions for clean water projects worldwide.  A charismatic former NYC nightclub promoter, Harrison is out to "reinvent charity."  He and his staff don't hang out with other nonprofits because they don't find them inspiring.  After more than two years of searching, he still can't find a Development Director.  He basically told a room of more than 3,000 nonprofit fundraising professionals that we were washed up, out of touch, and on the verge of extinction.

His flippant frustration at the nonprofit sector seemed a bit drastic and unfair, but it also struck a chord with me (as I suppose both AFP and Harrison himself were hoping it would!).

Here's why I think Scott Harrison was right:

• charity: water focuses on building a movement of people who understand that there is a water crisis in the world and who feel empowered to do something about it by banding together. Instead of a Development Director, they hire videographers, "producers" of special events, and "Supporter Experience Managers."  Semantics?  Yes.  But, also an important perspective shift that permeates the organization. Every job at charity: water is focused around pulling people into the movement.  Imagine how the roles at your favorite nonprofit could be re-structured that way and the difference it would make. 

• There are some lessons the nonprofit sector should be learning from the Googles, Twitters, and other companies Harrison prefers to hang out with.  Technology aside, these companies are focused on making individuals feel connected, heard, empowered.  For too long, most nonprofits have seen the world through an organizational lens, thanking donors for helping the organization make a difference.  At charity: water, donors are thanked for making that difference directly. Twitter recognizes it is just a conduit.  So is charity: water.  If we all reframed that way, we might create more movements.

• It is, ultimately, about being passionate.  charity: water is a very hip and cool organization with a start-up mentality.  Harrison's lesson, though, isn't that all nonprofits have to become hip and cool in a NYC nightclub sort of way. It is, however, all about wearing your beliefs on your sleeve (or website, brochure, etc.).  It goes back to getting nonprofits to think beyond mission statements to their own "Lush Lists" of what they value, believe, and stand for.  Shared passions and values make a movement.  

Here's why I think Scott Harrison was wrong:

• Every thoughtful, professional, and experienced fundraiser I talked to after that session already thinks this way.  Yes, this means that at times they have to reshape the expectations of their role at their organization and yes, this means they often do much more than their job descriptions or titles.  But, good fundraisers get this, welcome it, and actually make it happen at their organizations.  Now we just have to figure out how to make it happen in every nonprofit.

Do you think charity needs "reinventing?"  If so, in what ways?  How can we, as a fundraising profession, hold onto what works while still innovating?

Why Fundraisers Aren't Invited to Career Day

Given the likelihood that I might have scared some of you away last week with a too long and rambling post, the goals this week are to be crisp, concise, and conversation-starting. 

"Half of Fundraisers in Top Job Would Like to Quit."  That's the headline screaming in my daily email from the Chronicle of Philanthropy this week.  Digging in to the article only proves more depressing:  one in three CEO's is at best "lukewarm" about their top fundraiser.  A two-way street of fundraising dissatisfaction.

This does not bode well for the future of philanthropy.   For giving to thrive, we need capable, committed, and satisfied development professionals who bring value to their organizations and who are valued.  It is time for some radical reformation in how we attract people to fundraising and how we train them to be successful.

I have not yet met anyone who announced in the fourth grade that he/she would become a fundraiser (and if you are out there, please speak up!).  Development professionals were not at my high school's career day and no one came to my small liberal arts college looking to hire the next great fundraiser.  In fact, most every one I know who works in fundraising came to it initially through a back door.  We wanted to work on a cause we believed in and the only jobs always available involved raising money (and usually six other tasks, too).  Or, we actually had another role in an organization but soon enough someone on the development side left and our friendly personalities ushered us to the fundraising desk. 

Some of us, myself included, are grateful for that happenstance, for it opened our eyes to a very inspiring and challenging career path.  But, as the Chronicle article highlights, it's a process that, in general, isn't working.

I see at least three key steps for ensuring we have a steady stream of smart, strategic and passionate people seeking out fundraising as a career: 

1) We must talk about philanthropy and fundraising with our kids. Exposure to philanthropy and its joy just might spark a fourth grader to realize that one path to changing the world is by getting involved in nonprofits and fundraising. 

2) Those of us who love being in this profession must talk about it more.  We have to find our way into career days or make sure our media outlets include stories of satisfaction from a job in development and philanthropy. For a profession so good at running campaigns, we haven't yet done a very good job inspiring people to CHOOSE our career.

3) We must ensure that our job descriptions are about more than meeting fundraising goals.  Think about most of the postings out there for development staff.  Unless you are already committed to the profession, they aren't all that enticing.  We do much more than raise money.  We need to make sure that our organizations recognize that and recruit people to jobs that "broker dreams" (ala Sissy Bouchard).

And, we must do more to support and train people when they first climb into that development officer's chair.  We need to go beyond fundraising workshops, conferences, and classes. 

First, we need a concerted effort to create a mentorship program so every new development officer, rural or urban, from a big or small organization, has a chance to connect with a professional who loves his/her work. 

This past year I participated in an empowering mentoring program through AFP Washington. I was paired with a smart and savvy fundraising professional in Seattle and during our monthly phone calls we each learned from each other, sharing what's worked, what hasn't, what inspires us and what doesn't.  I'm a better fundraiser for that relationship and I'd like to think that if everyone just starting out could have such a support, we'd see so much less dissatisfaction.  Such programs exist, but they are small and voluntary and typically take a backseat in professional organizations to planning the next conference, workshop, or gathering.  Just like in fundraising, personal connections make a difference and mentoring programs deserve to be elevated in their importance.

Second, we need to try experimenting with other ways of building the fundraising capacity of nonprofit organizations.  My experience has been mostly in small and now rural organizations, so I'm thinking of them first and foremost here.  What if we experimented with actually placing a fundraising coach/mentor with a few organizations each year, rather than giving grants for trainings or projects?  I'm picturing a teach-them-to-fish-rather-than-giving-them-fish concept or a sort of loaned executive program. 

It takes going through a whole year to really understand how your organization and fundraising cycle works.  So, after carefully screening organizations for the basic foundations of potential, we could offer them a professional coach for a whole year.  The nonprofit's staff would do all the actual fundraising work, but they'd have a guide, a sounding board, a source of resources and experiences to help them plot their own best course.  Fundraising concepts and ideas are more likely to "stick" when they are directly relevant to your organization and you don't have to translate what you heard at a conference to your own day-to-day efforts.

I bet that after a year of support for the board and staff, the organizations would be more than ready to raise their own funds into the future.  Slowly, but deeply and surely, we'd actually change organizations' cultures and capacities for fundraising.  If we could do that, we'd make a big dent in the attrition and dissatisfaction that plagues our profession.  And, then, we can really start changing the world through philanthropy.

What do you think we need to do to recruit and retain more passionate, qualified, and inspiring people in fundraising?  Do you think we'll ever hear a fourth grader say "I want to be a fundraiser when I grow up?"

 

Authenticity & Flow

Some of the best parts of launching this little experiment last week have been the links some of you have sent me to other blogs or articles that have you thinking.  Yes!  There is a big world of smart people out there analyzing and philosophizing about philanthropy and I'm thrilled for any and all suggestions you have for expanding my world. 

Natalie Lamberjack, consultant extraordinaire from The Collins Group in Seattle, sent me a link to a post on Katya's Nonprofit Marketing Blog, entitled "The Great Donor Exodus – And What to Do About It." The author, Jay Love (former CEO of eTapestry) provides an interesting synopsis of the Fundraising Effectiveness Project by the Urban Institute and the Association for Fundraising Professionals.   Think of the Project as an important treasure trove of statistics designed to help nonprofits learn to fundraise effectively.

As Love writes, the recent Project report shows that nonprofit donor retention is actually rather dismal:  a 41% donor retention rate across the nonprofit sector pales in comparison to a 96% customer retention rate in the commercial for-profit world.  While I’m still trying to wrap my head around what, exactly, it means for the for-profit world to have a 96% retention rate, the difference is nonetheless stark.  Moreover, the report estimates that increasing the nonprofit sector's donor retention rate could result in significant fundraising gains. 

Love's advice is for every nonprofit to know their statistics – what's your retention rate, which donors return every year, who doesn't, etc.  Good advice, for sure.  But let's remember data analysis is only a starting point and the real rubber meets the road when we try to think about what to do to change our stats.  And, that has me thinking and pondering on this way-too-beautiful a sunny day here in the Methow Valley – so if I sound overly impatient or antsy in what follows, forgive me for outside is calling!

I started by searching around the web for theories and approaches to donor retention. A whole army of fundraisers stand ready with lists promising "10 Things to Keep Your Donors," or "The 5 Steps to Lifelong Donors," or "The 25 Must-Do's to Keep Your Donors Engaged" (full disclosure – I made up those titles, but trust me, google donor retention and you will quickly find yourself swamped in a series of short, pithy lists to guide you to philanthropy's silver bullet).

While many of these lists include very smart and appropriate advice (like PLEASE always thank your donors and show impact before you ask again), they leave me frankly a little depressed.  After reading enough of them, I could all too easily conclude that fundraising is just a series of checklists or hurdles to cover before I achieve success and have a donor engaged to the point of making a long-term and significant gift.  My job as a Development Professional, it would seem, is to "move" donors along these set milestones and assure consistent, generous support.

Wow, does that NOT feel like how I approach my passion.  Yes, there are basic protocols (like thanking, reporting back, etc.) that if not done, will ensure the loss of a donor.  But, I don't believe there is one recipe, no checklist, no five things that guarantee the commitment of a long-term donor.  I respect all of our supporters way too much to assume that.

Thank goodness we've had smart thinkers like Penelope Burk (and many of you!) through the years to remind us that fundraising is not transactional, but is all about relationships.  Like most fundraisers I know, I absolutely agree.  Why is it though, that even this rather deep philosophical concept too often gets boiled down to a series of utilitarian steps. Steps with a more personal flair, for sure, but steps nonetheless.  Listening carefully to your donors becomes a step, asking the right questions, tailoring your message, etc. 

It reminds me of the time I led a workshop session on how my organization engaged donors in a really big capital campaign and in the midst of explaining the underlying philosophy, I shared examples of some of the materials we created.  Only after someone came up to me at the end of the session to say, "thank you so much for the idea of sending donors postcards of the land they have protected," did I realize I had failed in conveying the central point.  It's not about the design of your card or the timing of your appeal or the font you choose….the magic is in finding a way to say clearly and believably you, donor, have made a real impact.  The postcard is just the vehicle. 

Maybe I'm crazy, but I've always tried to approach the whole process in the way that I'd like to be treated if I was the donor.  I wouldn't care about receiving 7 contacts before being asked or at least one email update a month.  For me, it all starts and ends with authenticity. 

I genuinely believe that all of the donors I have the honor to work with are partners in my organization's efforts to make the world (or at least one piece of the world) better.  We are in this together.  I have a real passion for my mission and when I reach out to donors, I share that genuinely – maybe not always in exactly the right words or right way, but what I strive for is an authentic sense of a shared love for our mission.  I also genuinely respect all of our donors and when I ask them about what matters to them, I actually care.  Not just so I can make a note and send them a follow up card that speaks to their heart, but because I really want to know what inspires them.  I learn from them.  Understanding what moves them is what gives me satisfaction – the human connection (the philanthropos tropos, if you will)—in my work. 

So whether I am sending a donor a personal email on the day I saw an eagle try to drown a gull out my office window and it made me realize how grateful I am that as a donor they keep a place like the Methow alive and wild, or whether I am sending a postcard to 1000 donors to thank them for protecting another special place, I think first about how to be genuine in my gratitude, in my awe at their impact, and in my belief that our work only happens because so many band together. 

I'm sure a fundraiser auditing my process for its retention potential would be abhorred at the lack of checklists and steps and programmed-out plans for contacts.  I've tried that and it didn’t work and I didn't like it.  Because it didn't feel authentic.  Of course, I recognize we need to communicate, and I readily admit to times when I have missed a good opportunity, but I try to stay focused on making communications about the things – little or big – that make our daily work come to life for our donors so that they truly do feel a part of the organization.  Because, and this is the secret sauce, I believe they are!  I can't manufacture those moments to fit some prescribed timeline.  To work – for every one of our donors to feel connected – those moments and how we convey them, have to flow.

I believe that when you can do that, your donors will sense the authentic impact of their giving and they will want to continue to be a part of your movement—and that should be our goal rather than donor retention.

So sure, I keep track of our donor renewal rates and as student of economics, I like to analyze statistics and find some comfort in logic and formulas.  But, what I do is much more art than science, more about connection than calculation.  And, that's just the way I'd want it.

What's your take on the essentials for the nonprofit sector to retain more supporters for our movements?  As either a fundraiser or a donor, what do you think lies at the heart of keeping people engaged?  Maybe we can come up with our own Top Ten List :)

What If....

If I could donate a dollar for all the times I have heard a nonprofit person say, "if only we didn't have to fundraise," I'd have a whole lot of money to give away!  It's the prominent theme among boards, Executive Directors, and programmatic staff that fundraising is a sort of necessary evil.  It's the thing you have to be successful at to get your real work done.  It's the thorn in your side, the thing in your way, the task you'd most like to give to some salesperson or better yet be entirely relieved of by the existence of a generous endowment given by an anonymous benefactor you never have to thank.

This unfortunate, but prominent take on fundraising means that development staff are often tucked in a desk on the outer edges of the office, tasked with next to impossible fundraising goals and given little insight or voice into the future, the strategy, and the key positioning of the organization.  It's why the average fundraiser changes jobs every 3.9 years[1].  It is also, I would argue, why we've been stuck at a national giving level of less than 2% of GDP for way too many years.

But, there is another way.  I've been fortunate to spend my entire fundraising career with nonprofits that buck these trends.  I've never worked for an organization that sees the fundraiser as Cinderella's ugly stepsister.  As someone with fundraising responsibilities, I have always been embraced as a key player in the health of the organization and my success has been seen not only as a means of helping programmatic staff get their work done, but also as a key function of reaching our mission.  I have only recently realized just how lucky I am.

So, here's the secret.  The organizations I have worked for have all had missions, goals, and strategies that reach beyond helping X number of people or protecting Y number of acres.  They have all wanted to literally create or change a culture around their core mission.  Building an ethic means that you can't only do your program work well, you also have to change or inspire the hearts and minds of your community. 

A fully realized "fundraising" program is the way to do that.  This means taking the emphasis off the actual financial transaction of giving.  It takes reframing the idea of fundraising to see it as it's own mission of providing people with a way to express their values.  Fundraising isn't just a means of financing programmatic work; it is, by its newly defined nature, a means of doing your work.

Providing people with a way to make a difference, to feel connected to a cause they care about, and to become engaged should always be one of a nonprofit's key goals.  Done well, that's what fundraising is—it is matching people who have a passion, vision, or belief with an organization who can meld their dreams with the dreams of others and actually have an impact. 

I can't cure homelessness on my own.  I can't protect everything I love about the Methow Valley all by myself and I can't ensure that my daughter will grow up with exposure to all the fine arts.  But, when I give to organizations that can, even if I can only give modestly, I become part of the solution.  The very act of giving makes me feel differently about the cause I have just written a check to.  I am now, very literally, invested.  I am more likely to talk to others about that cause, to attend their events and learn more, to volunteer, and to ultimately care even more. 

A good fundraising program is more focused on getting me "hooked" as a passionate proselytizer of the cause than getting my name on next year's list of donors.  It is how you rally people together.  It's the catalyst for change.  It's how you make your mission about more than just your organization.

Of course, you've got to back up good fundraising with awesome programs and results – the two are definitely symbiotic.  But, by pushing fundraising to the side, we limit our abilities to really have an impact. 

If the millions of development professionals in this country are truly going to make a difference, we have to help our organizations redefine fundraising.  What if we all saw our role as building a movement and not just building a donor base?

What do you think?  Is it possible to reframe fundraising in this way?  What are the first steps?  

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[1] 2011 AFP Compensation and Benefits Survey