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.