Call Me Naive

A few weeks ago, a colleague and I were having a friendly disagreement about a donor.

He argued that this donor's philanthropic priorities were carefully calculated to promote his professional ambitions.

I said I thought the donor was just giving money to the things he cares about.

And it occurred to me that I'm pretty naive by nature.

It also occurred to that to be a fundraiser, one has to be a bit naive.

We have to be naive because we have nothing to gain by being cynical.

Cynicism, of course, is tempting.  (Especially for a naturally sarcastic person like me.)  What's great about being cynical is that you run very little risk of being embarrassed.

Imagine someone offers you a great-sounding deal and you have to guess whether they are being nice or trying to rip you off.

If you guess they are trying to rip you off, and you're right, it shows you are worldly and smart.  If you're wrong -- well, it just means that this was an exception to the rule.

Now imagine you guessed they were just being nice.  If you were right, you got lucky.  If you were wrong, you're an idiot with terrible judgment.

That kind of skepticism probably serves people very well in a wide range of professions.

But it doesn't help us fundraisers.

Because we have nothing to gain by guessing people aren't going to respond to our appeals, attend our dinners, join our membership programs, say yes to our major gift requests, approve our proposals or sponsor our events.  It just makes us hesitate to ask them.  And the less we ask, the less we get.

And so we sally forth with slightly ridiculous expressions of wonderment on our faces, expecting acts of selfless altruism from everyone we encounter, impassively disregarding waves of counter-evidence and feeling enormous satisfaction each time we are right.

The Fundraiser's Guide to Serenity

I haven't posted in a week.

Why? Because I've been busy promoting my fundraising workshop at Lincoln Center at the end of March.

I'm very excited about the workshop. But there is one fundamental issue connected to it that makes me a little uneasy. 

The truth is: some organizations won't succeed with their fundraising efforts, no matter how hard and smart their development staff work.

In my workshops, I emphasize the "tactics" of fundraising. (Hence the name of my training company.) I teach the fundamentals of grantwriting, corporate sponsorships, board development, membership and annual giving, special events, etc. I intentionally focus on those dynamics within the direct control of the fundraiser.

But the truth is: some dynamics are out of our control.

The serenity prayer advises us to accept the things we cannot change and to have the courage to change the things we can.

For development professionals, I think "accepting the things we cannot change" is the path to insanity, not serenity. If you choose to stay at an organization that does second-rate (or tenth-rate) work, alienates natural partners, mismanages finances, etc., you'll need a truckload of pharmaceuticals to experience anything like serenity.

People often ask me how I came to work at El Museo del Barrio.  I'm not Latino.  I don't speak Spanish. And until I started there, I didn't know the first thing about Latino or Latin American art. (Now I do know the first thing.  But my colleagues might dispute that I know the second or third thing.)

Why did I go there, and why do I stay there?  Because I need to work at an arts organization that does excellent work; that demonstrates a sincere commitment to its staff, audience and community; and that wants to succeed.  El Museo is all of that.

When I meet fundraisers who work for self-destructive tyrants, or at organizations that just don't do anything terribly important or exciting, I know that they will be very limited in their success until and unless they move on with their careers.

I usually start my courses by sharing this bitter truth with fundraisers. I tell them to take a hard look at their organizations and determine whether the elements necessary for success exist for them.

But maybe I should start with the fundraiser's serenity prayer instead: Give me the serenity to go forth boldly with my fundraising plan as long as I'm raising money for a cause that deserves it, the courage to find a new job if my organization doesn't deserve it, and enough self respect to admit there's a difference.

Don't Be Afraid to Tell Me What You Want

For most of us Development Directors, the selection of a new Executive Director is probably the single most important factor in whether or not we will enjoy and succeed at our jobs, or struggle in misery.

At El Museo del Barrio, where I work, Julian Zugazagoitia has just announced that he will be leaving his position to become the Director and CEO of the Nelson-Atkins Museum in Kansas City. I will miss Julian profoundly, both personally and professionally.

Fortunately, El Museo is in a very strong position -- the staff is talented and motivated, and the board is unified and clear headed. I am very confident that the board will choose an effective leader to build on Julian's excellent tenure.

Still, this transition has caused me to reflect on what we Development Directors want from an Executive Director/CEO. Here are my top five priorities -- I'd love to hear yours:

1) The Director must be passionate about a vision and able to communicate that vision in a way that gets people excited. One of my favorite quotations is "Make no little plans. They have no magic to stir men's blood." The Director must have that kind of fire in his or her belly -- even if it means continuously cutting through the cynicism and doubts of others.

2) The Director should be a manager, but not a micro-manager. Ideally, the Director should carefully track the organization's goals and hold direct reports accountable for delivering on their responsibilities. But frankly, if I had to choose between a micro-manager and a space cadet, I'd take the space cadet.  A few strong deputies can fill in for a charismatic but unfocused boss.  But micromanagement is a disease that will decimate a nonprofit. (And it is epidemic.)

3) The Director should be someone who, when in doubt, says "yes."   

4) The Director should be someone who knows how to make decisions. Bad decisions are usually better than no decisions. Like micromanagement, the inability to make a decision renders your staff impotent.  

5) The Director should love funders and fundraising. The four points above are all crucial to the success of a fundraising program. But just as crucial, the Director needs to respect his or her funders as partners, and should never perceive them as necessary evils. The Director must be eager to share plans with these stakeholders and ready to listen to their input. (And should take every possible meeting and arrive on time and well prepared.)

Those are my top five. What are yours?