Director’s Message

Collaboration and the Silo Mentality–Part One

Most universities don’t offer Negotiation 101, or Collaboration for Greater Effectiveness 201, George thought as he stared at his colleague Al.  Having recently joined the Global Works organization as a chief fundraiser, George now had the task of finding out what was needed from him and his expertise.

George had just asked where he could get supplies for the desk and office he had inherited.  There seemed to be an abundance of paper clips (did his predecessor have a fetish about paper clips?), and out of date Foundation Center volumes, but no paper for his printer, ruler to measure the size of a drawer, or pens.  He began to prowl the halls, ending up in the workroom.  That seemed like a logical place for such supplies.  Tentatively trying to open the metal cabinet doors–the few he found in the workroom–he was a bit puzzled that they were locked.  He looked around for shelves that might at least have paper.  And he didn’t feel quite right about filching the few dozen sheets of paper he found in the copier.

As he walked down the hall he peered into offices of his new colleagues.  Since Al was at his desk, he seemed to be the next best source of information on how to equip an office at Global Works. Al looked as puzzled as George felt.  “We each buy our own supplies, because that’s what’s written into the grant proposals on which we survive,” Al said.  George felt like replying, “How about swapping a handful of paper clips for a ream of paper,” but he was too new on the scene to attempt any clever retort.

Little did George know this was just the beginning of “turfism” as he had never encountered before.  Indeed, there was no central supply.  More importantly, information was guarded in ways resembling the CIA.  Senior personnel meetings consisted mostly of vague statements and reports, never anything concrete on which George could develop a case for funding support.  An air of suspicion prevailed–suspicion about what the XYZ division might be doing, or what an external competitor might be up to.

OK, George thought.  I’m equal to this.  I’ll find a project in which everyone can participate, and one in which each division of Global Works has some experience, and perhaps we can begin to pull together.  Good luck, whispered that part of his mind that had already begun to question the wisdom of taking this job.  It had seemed so appealing–start ramping up fundraising from nongovernment sources, have the chance to influence many needs around the globe, work with accomplished colleagues, and build something new for a twenty-year-old organization.  Now he was spending more time searching for his place in an organization that seemed to have such clear boundaries that no map or organization chart was needed.  The invisible walls that separated the divisions might just as well have been the venerable China wall or a medieval castle in old Europe.

George despaired of ever penetrating the silos that defined Global Works.  I suppose I’ll need to begin some effort at promoting collaboration, he thought.  What can I say or do that could be convincing?  He believed that, as a newcomer, he had an equal chance of either being ignored or being listened to, just because he was new.  A distinct memory of the cliques of his seventh-grade year permeated his musings, and shoving these feelings aside, he began a list of why cooperation and collaboration might be beneficial.

• Causes are strengthened when an organizations works together, and benefits to those in need are increased.
• Financial and human resources can be more efficiently used when efforts aren’t duplicated.
• When knowledge is shared, everyone benefits because we work smarter and our results are better.
• Donors of all kinds prefer to give to cooperative efforts—it’s less confusing and more effective.

George stopped.  I should address, he thought, why this might not work, because then I might think of more positive points to share.  He started a second list–why collaboration might not work, he carefully wrote at the top of another piece of paper from a ream he had purchased from a nearby Staples store.

• Collaboration means thinking outside of our usual way of doing things.
• We fear losing identity and independence if we share information and resources.
• Sometimes people just don’t get along.
• Coperation means change, and sometimes we fear change.
• Sometimes we think, “It won’t work here.” “We’re different.” “We’ve always done it that way (and it’s comfortable).”
• We just don’t know how to collaborate and do it well!

So, how can I bring about change, George pondered?  Pulling one more precious sheet of paper from the Staples packet, he wrote,

• Be clear on purposes of cooperating and collaborating.  Why is this a good thing to do?
• Define processes.  How will collaboration work?
• Look for common interests.
• Look for how organizational and individual skills can maximize results.

He stopped and thoughtfully laid down his pen.  I think I need to create that Negotiation 101 course in order to carry out even the slightest semblance of collaboration at Global Works, he concluded.  But this is a start!

If your future employing organization asks how many millions you’ve raised, respond with a question.  How many millions has the organization raised each year?  If you’re asked whether you bring an impressive Rolodex with you, be suspicious.  Explain you’re not a pied piper with a line of major donors following you.  Try to clarify that it takes a while to identify a major donor, and even longer to bring such donations to fruition.

If you can’t see records of donor interaction, fundraising reports, database information, find out if you’re expected to establish such infrastructure. If so, will it be understood that these tasks take time and you can’t launch into full-scale fundraising immediately, therefore delaying the anticipated and desired results.

If there is no fundraising plan in place, then ask if there is an organizational plan.  If there is none, discreetly find out why.  Is this a seat-of-the-pants organization, which may mean you could have a hard time pulling together the right information to make a strong case?

If you can’t be shown fundraising case statements, solicitation materials, records of donor cultivation and solicitation, be sure to find out just what you’re expected to accomplish.  Will you be asked, “Show me the money!” after your first month of employment?

If the ambience doesn’t feel right, follow your instincts.  There may be too many differences in personalities for your comfort level.  Remember, you will spend a considerable part of your day in this environment.  Are you comfortable?  If not, can you identify why?  If you’re an analyst by nature, figure out why you’re feeling uneasy.  If you’re a pragmatist and think you can make anything work, ask yourself if you’re being too confident or optimistic.  If you’re tending to react with your emotions–a trait that is often undervalued–check whether you can put hard facts behind the emotions.  However you choose to determine what’s just not quite right, step back and take a deep breath.  Don’t allow yourself to be rushed into situations that don’t seem quite the appropriate fit for you.

Remember above all, fundraising is a great career.  Where else can you find such variety of activity, a myriad of opportunities to work in your area of interest, know you’ve made a difference at the end of the day or the end of a project, meet interesting people, be challenged by circumstances, people and environment, and have great satisfaction that you’ve helped make someone’s life better?!

Beware, all ye who enter—a checklist for avoiding a no-win job (Part One)

If something seems too good to be true, it probably is. Few jobs are perfect. The trick is to see what imperfections we can live with and balance with the positive aspects of the job. Some like multi-tasking so a one-person post with much variety would weigh in on the positive side. For others, such a seemingly discombobulated world would be a true nightmare.

If future colleagues, board members or the boss are heard to mutter, “If we hire James, we won’t have to do another thing,” then run for the fire escape as quickly as possible. Obviously you will have to work very hard to begin establishing a team approach to fundraising–and in all likelihood, that may not happen.

If expectations aren’t clear, or seem unrealistic, or are based on hopes and wishes rather than a fundraising track record, ensure you’re not expected to be a miracle-worker. You might use a collegial organizations as a comparison of what can be done, or quote experts, or get a respected consultant’s opinion before you over-promise and over-commit.

If board giving is meager, beware. If these records aren’t shared with you, head for the exit. It’s possible that the board just isn’t behind the effort, or perhaps doesn’t even understand fundraising. So when things don’t turn out to be stellar in the first year, the fundraiser will no doubt be led to the altar as a scapegoat.

If you’re expected to be a one-person marching band, check on expectations. Are you a convenience, are you being hired because someone thought fundraising would be a good idea, are you singing a solo with no hope of a choir backup? If possibly yes, then take action. Either bow out or right at the beginning of your discussions or draft a realistic plan to present. There’s no point in being too optimistic, something that fundraisers often experience because they tend to be visionary, capable, and have a “can do” attitude.

If your future boss promises the moon, ask yourself why. Is this a ploy to shift responsibility? Does he or she perhaps want to abdicate fundraising roles?

If you’re expected to function on a meager budget, or without human resources at your disposal, check on what has been accomplished with this budget. Your future boss, colleagues, board and organization in general may not have learned or accepted the fact that it takes money to raise money. Even if you’re a novice, check on reasonable fundraising expenditures, particularly if you’re expected to begin or re-establish a fundraising program.

Martina sat back in her chair and surveyed the papers on her desk. While feeling slightly overwhelmed, she also breathed a sigh of satisfaction. She had what she considered an ideal job—the restoration of an old schoolhouse on the local fairgrounds and planning of programs that would take place in the facility once the work was done. She had a reasonably good board with connections and the will to see the project to a successful completion. The location was ideal and would attract crowds during the fair season and schools at other times. And best of all, she didn’t have to do this alone (although she didn’t have a fundraiser and wore two hats—as executive director and also as fundraiser). She had just been given the go-ahead to hire a fine and reputable fundraising firm! She thought, “Anything’s possible?!”

Fast-forward to six months later. Martina is sitting at her desk once again but her euphoria has faded. The relationship with the consulting firm fast took on the characteristics of a bad marriage. While both she and her board were captivated by the consulting agency’s rep, it turned out that he was not the one ultimately assigned to Martina’s campaign. The feasibility study was meager and interviews seemed scanty in information. The board was disillusioned and felt they had been embarrassed by a poorly-executed feasibility process. Yet the bill for these services stared her in the face as she turned her glum gaze toward the ever-growing pile of papers. She really didn’t receive much help, she felt, she didn’t learn much that was new, and a backlog of work had accumulated while she spent time supporting the work of the consulting. What had gone wrong?

She went to the community nonprofit support center and asked to see the director. “Can you help me,” she said, hating the plaintive tone of her voice, “I seem to have come to an impasse with my consultant—both in what I thought he would do for us, and in how the board and the donors are reacting.” Jonathan, the director, listened carefully; this was not a time for quick and easy answers. Martina genuinely needed how to find her way out of a morass, and yet Jonathan also wanted to maintain a good relationship with the consultant, one of several who worked with his constituents and clients. A bad experience wasn’t the norm, so he also wondered what had gone wrong. Jonathan asked to see the contract. Nothing seemed out of order. So what happened? He could sympathize with Martina—she certainly wasn’t the whiny kind and was known to be a proactive professional and go-getter. In fact, she had taken this job against the advice of some mentors, and so far had done well.

After some subsequent visits that consisted mainly of analyzing the situation, Jonathan and Martina decided there were some problems that perhaps could have been avoided with a more careful selection of a consultant and subsequent agreements, and some problems that perhaps could be remedied now. She managed to get the firm to send the original consultant to speak to her, revise the report appropriately, and also meet with the board. Not all was satisfactory, in spite of efforts to remedy the situation. The campaign was slowed down, the board’s enthusiasm was dampened, and she thought she looked bad as a professional.

Meeting with Jonathan once again, she mused, “What should I have done differently?” Jonathan thoughtfully provided her with a list of suggestions to consider when she next needed a consultant—which, Martina thought, would be a long time in coming! She remembered a standing joke that someone had told at a recent meeting. “What is the definition of a consultant? Answer—someone who comes from more than fifty miles away, asks to see your watch to tell YOU what time it is—and then keeps it!” She remembered how many in the group had groaned at this corny joke, but right now she could identify with this rather slanderous definition of a consultant. After some reflection, however, she reviewed the list. Good suggestions, she thought. I need to share these with my colleagues.

1. Determine what kind of help you need, then interview several consultants and also get references. Remember that you’re in “the driver’s seat,” and this is a business transaction, with you remaining in charge.
2. Discuss the need for consulting with the candidate(s) and carefully weigh the answers. What are they saying, versus what are you hearing? How do the candidates’ responses differ or compare? Do they seem flexible, or does it seem that they studied the rule book on the way to the site?
3. What kind of sample contracts do the candidates present? Read between the lines as well as the content. It protects both sides of the relationship.
4. Once again, be clear on what you need and what the consultant promises. Also be clear on what is needed from you once the work begins.
5. Remember that relationship “chemistry” is important. This person will be a member of your team and challenges will be plentiful without adding personality clashes or differences.
6. This is a business relationship. Don’t be cowed, intimidated, or pushed around by a consultant. Retain your professionalism and use your professional knowledge. You’re a partner, not an underling.
7. Remember the advantages of using a consultant, and see if these apply to you—objectivity (especially in feasibility studies or fundraising assessments); expertise not available in-house; opportunities for learning, especially for new, young and support staff; attention to specific areas of fundraising (especially in the case of a capital campaign) for which you don’t have time or expertise; and the chance to learn new information and techniques.
8. Remember three C’s—cooperation, communication, and clear expectations from both sides are key to a successful relationship.

Martina met with Jonathan once again—he had become a good listener besides having some sage advice when she needed it. “I’ll know better next time,” she sighed. “I should have taken more initiative myself in undertaking this business transaction.”

Patrick often conducted workshops or training sessions for various types of practitioners.  He did this as part of his affiliation with an educational institution and also as a consultant.  This was an enjoyable task for him because it was a chance for him to review what were the latest best practices and research, and how this information could be adapted to the organizations represented in his courses.  At this stage of his career as a fundraising professional and now a trainer and consultant he thought he had, to use the cliche, “seen everything.”

Therefore he was a bit taken aback when, on the morning of the second day of training as major gifts were being discussed, a woman raised her hand and asked, “What website can I use for finding lists of major donors for my organization?”

Patrick responded, “Your best major donor prospects come from your own donor lists . . .” and he was going to go on when the course participant interrupted and said, “I know that.  What I’m looking for is websites that tell me where the major donors are.  If I can find them, then I’ll figure out ways to interest them in my organization.”

Patrick let a few moments of silence go by while he pondered how to satisfy this participant and yet adhere to the tried-and-true principles of fundraising.  He finally said, “If there were such lists, those donors may not be available to your organization.  You can find online annual reports and specific donor lists, but you would be most productive if you start with your own donors and prospects and then expand with the help of your board . . . “ and again he was interrupted.

“But I’ve been told,” continued the participant, “that there is a website that’s the best for finding the wealthy.  If I can only find that website, I can target some of them.”

Patrick felt deflated.  Clearly he wasn’t coming across in the way he wanted to in teaching best practices.  He realized that he was up against the proverbial gremlin of the profession–the quick-fix syndrome.  This fundraiser wanted to truncate the process and go at it in the quickest way possible and she didn’t want to heed reality.

That evening Patrick sat at his desk in his hotel room and pondered.  How could he help this participant and many others obsessed by the quick-fix syndrome?  In his vast experience he had seen too many nonprofit leaders and boards, and sometimes constituents and donors, want fundraising to happen quickly, often in response to a crisis.  It just doesn’t work this way! he said to himself.  He remembered another recent incident at another training session.  “Our grant is running out,” a man said at the beginning of the course.  “How can we get donors to give in the next three months?”  Patrick remembered with regret that this particular organization, which hadn’t planned for sustainability, was off the map by now.  He reflected that a fairly common question when organizations haven’t planned ahead is–how can I find donors quickly and get them to give quickly?  The unknowledgeable and uninitiated see other organizations bringing in donations, and they want to replicate this, quickly and easily.

He got out his computer and prepared some PowerPoint slides to show the next day.  His first slide said, “Our hurry-up society with its quick fixes (like TV commercials where a headache is cured in seconds) wants the same result when finding financial support for its nonprofits.”  He jotted notes on what he would say to lead into the next series of slides that expanded on the quick-fix syndrome and its implications for fundraising.  His next slide read, “It takes time for us to cultivate the donors who support our organizations, to cultivate the development of healthy nonprofit organizations.”  He went on to the third slide: “The expectations that are forced on us, or that we are allowed to desire, are serious and challenging.”  And he closed with, “Therefore it’s unrealistic and counterproductive to think that easy answers and quick fixes are possible.”

The next morning Patrick didn’t take time for the usual Q/A session with which he usually opened his day of training but launched into his brief but profound PowerPoint presentation.  When he had finished showing the slides and expanding on the points and illustrating them, he said, “Are there any questions?”

“Yes,” answered the woman who had initially spoken up about the website listing the wealthy, “were you able to find that website for me?”

Patrick sighed.  He felt like putting his head on the lectern and pounding it with his fists.  Clearly there wasn’t a “quick fix” to this one!  He hoped the rest of the class had taken to heart his admonitions and when they left his training session, they would go back to their organizations and discuss with their bosses, boards and volunteers the principles he taught, which definitely didn’t include quick fixes but involved thoughtful planning for sustainability!  He thought of a favorite old quote by Epictetus,

“No great thing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig.  If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer that there must be time.  Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen.”

One Sunday morning Alex sat sipping his coffee and instead of focusing on the paper, or picking up his text message, or even mindlessly watching the TV news, he stared absentmindedly beyond all three means of communication .  His mind was churning.  He had been troubled all weekend.  On Friday, as a parting shot accompanied by a lukewarm “Have a good weekend,” his boss had said, “Alex, you know we badly need to recover in this economic crisis and it’s up to you to get us over the hump.  Can’t you get some of that stimulus package money, or better yet,  just go to the Worthwhile Foundation?  They have plenty of money, I hear.  Anyhow, DO SOMETHING!”  And then the boss uttered the weak wish for a salubrious weekend.

Have a good weekend!  Whom was he kidding?!  It wasn’t so much the “go to the Worthwhile Foundation” that bothered Alex but what lay behind it.  Alex was no slouch.  He had done his homework and knew that the arts organization for which he worked, Vibes for Violinists, was not on their priority list.  What really irked and worried Alex were phrases that kept ringing and singing through his head, like a bad commercial tune that hummed inside him incessantly.

“It’s up to you . . .”

“We’re in a crisis—get us over the hump.”

“Stimulus package money.”

“The Worthwhile Foundation—they have plenty of money.”

“DO SOMETHING!”

After thinking rather evil thoughts about his boss, Alex began to move beyond worry and on to fuming.  Did his boss think that he, Alex, wasn’t doing a good job?  How could he say something as dumb as “it’s up to you?!”  What had gotten them into this mess in the first place?  For beginners, a lack of interest and therefore involvement by his boss, who should have been part of the fundraising effort and team.  Second, the lack of financial acumen to see that a contingency fund of some sort should have been in place.  Alex was no financial whiz but even he knew that living in the “hand to mouth” state was risky.  Third, shouldn’t this be an organizational effort, with both the president and CFO and others involved?  It wasn’t just up to him!  Finally, what bothered him most was that after two years and eight months and three weeks of employment, he still haven’t succeeded in educating his so-called team.  What was it going to take to show his boss, at least, that it took time to build up a solid fundraising base, that just because people had money didn’t mean they had arts interests, and that sustainability was the key word, not emergency funding, which didn’t appeal to most donors.

Now quite thoroughly angry and depressed, he took a sip of his now-cold herbal tea and dashed to the sink to spit it out.  What to do?!  Both by Monday and for the long term?  Should he consider a job change before things got worse?  Fortunately for him, he remembered that the local AFP chapter had built up not just a good mentoring system and even though he didn’t have one, he could think of several senior professionals whom he could call, even on a weekend.  Better yet, he remembered his last day of the five day Principles and Techniques of Fundraising course which he took from The Fund Raising School.  He had filled in a form on what he would do that next week, the next three months and then the next six months and had exchanged it with his favorite fellow participant.  Alex dashed to get his big red binder, the curriculum for that course, and where he had jotted down Merilin’s phone number.  He would call her, and risk calling her on a Sunday!

Merilin was home, especially since it was an unearthly hour for her (being in a different time zone) and Alex blurted out his dilemma, tripping over his words because of frustration.  “Whoa,” responded Merilin,  “slow down!  Don’t tell me you’ve been blindsided by the ‘just ask Bill Gates’ syndrome?!  My sincere sympathies to you!  I lived in Indianapolis where the same thing happened.  ‘Just go to the Lilly Endowment, they have lots of money,” was what I heard repeatedly.”  She sighed and paused.

Alex repeated, “The Bill Gates syndrome, huh?!  How true!  I’m relieved you understand.  But what can I do?  I have to present some sort of plan on Monday.”

“Well, I hate to ruin your Sunday, but try these action steps,” Merilin replied.  Together they brainstormed for the next hour.  Alex breathed his fervent thanks and they made plans to meet at the next AFP convention, since Merilin lived two time zones away.  Alex turned to his computer and began to draft a mini-plan on how to extricate himself from this dilemma.

First, he wrote, ask for a meeting with the president and CFO, explaining that in order to make a good request and to avoid embarrassing the organization (never mind himself, but he wasn’t going to mention that) he needed to know more facts.  Could they please discuss the financial situation with him so that he could ask wisely?

Second, he would print out the website pages of the Worthwhile Foundation as well as the stimulus package information and show them that funding wasn’t available, but then quickly move on to his real plan, which was a three-step approach to raising some contingency money.  He had a loyal donor who had said, after his last pledge payment, “I like what you’re doing, so let me know when you need help.”  Alex would have felt better if the donor had said, “I like what Vibes for Violinists is doing,” but he wouldn’t worry about that now.  Then he would ask Mr. Salvador to introduce him to some other corporate prospects.   Then he would approach those donors for a matching grant.

Third, he planned to say in a very tactful manner, “My professional mentors,” and he would name some recognizable persons, “have indicated that now is a time to begin building sustainability, if an organization is still alive in this bad economic time.  I’d like to show you a one-page outline of how WE can do this.”  And he would have ready some of the steps he had already been trying to take, but perhaps would now have at least a half-listening ear.

Alex went to refresh his cup of tea.  He sipped the hot beverage and mulled over his plan.  It just could work.  Then, after his meeting, he would weigh his options.  First, he would once again plan on how to get the organization and especially the president to work with him, and failing that, he would resign.  And he would do so while he could show a good track record and be a desirable candidate.  If he waited too long, he would be part of the downhill slide of Vibes for Violinists.

And what if the president said he couldn’t meet, that it really was up to him, Alex, to DO SOMETHING?!  Well, he could always say, “As you requested, I’m doing something and so that you can put my plan into your overall administrative duties and know what’s going on, I’d like to show you what I am carrying out, which is, mainly, your request.”  And if that didn’t work, there might be an ethical way to share his plan with his development committee chair, without divulging those irritating words,  “It’s up to you to DO SOMETHING and get us over the hump.”  After all, it had been a Friday afternoon and a gloomy one at that.  Perhaps on Monday reason would prevail.  He sighed—a mixed sigh, both of mild relief because he now had a plan at least, and a contented sigh because after all, it was a Sunday, the sun was shining, he had done so much hard thinking and planning, so he deserved a round of golf!

Megan eagerly looked forward to her interview at the International Outreach to Africa organization where she had applied for the vice-president for advancement position.  She had made the initial cut and now was headed, with confidence, to her second and hopefully last interview before she could enjoy this exciting cause.

With outward patience but inner excitement and anticipation she waited in the little lobby of the organization’s headquarters.  She studied the annual report she found on the table, lurking beneath old copies of Time and National Geographic.  She looked at the date.  Hmmm.  Two years old.  Well, it would still give her some idea of the organization.  Wow, she thought, this organization works in 22 different countries!  Just think the causes for which she could raise funds.  Just think how many people she could help through her skill and experience in raising funds from private sources.

She had arrived early and before long she had exhausted the annual report’s contents.  She looked at her watch.  Still ten minutes to go.  She could bring herself even more “up to speed” if she could read the most current annual report.  She went to the receptionist’s desk and patiently waited until the young woman finally made eye contact and tore herself away from texting on her iPhone.  “Could I have the most recent annual report,” Megan asked.  The receptionist looked blankly at her.  “It’s on the table there, unless someone stole it,” she answered.  “Yes,” Megan replied, “but it’s not the most recent one, I’m sure.”  “Well, we ain’t got another one, you know.”

A bit nonplussed, Megan slowly went back to her seat.  Oh, well, she thought.  I’m sure the president can enlighten me on that one.  She sat back and idly surveyed her surroundings.  The map behind the receptionist certainly was impressive, with beautiful pictures.  The lack of a current annual report couldn’t diminish her eagerness to join such a proactive organization.

Her interview time arrived and she was summoned into the board room.  There sat the president, whom she had met on her previous interview, along with three other people who were strangers to her.  She tried to think back to the pictures on the annual report.  Only one seemed to match those pictures.  Well, turnover wasn’t a bad sign, was it? The interview proceeded. She provided information and answers confidently and with conviction, keeping her excitement under control.  Then the president said, as he began to gather the papers strewn in front of him, “Now, do you have any questions for us?”  A bit taken aback by the almost dismissive attitude, she said, “Yes. I do.  Could I see the strategic plan for the organization and the fundraising plan, if it isn’t part of the organizational plan?  And by the way, could I have the latest annual report?  The young lady at the desk didn’t have a copy.”

An uneasy silence settled on the group and glances were exchanged.  Megan noted that the glances were among the three to whom she had just been introduced, and in turn they cast uneasy looks at the president, as if waiting for an answer along with herself.  The president settled back in his chair and smiled benignly at Megan.  “We’re in a planning process just now.  Because of that you would find our old plan woefully out of date, so we won’t look for that copy.  However, you will have the exciting chance to be part of that process if you are our finalist.”  He said this with such finality that Megan didn’t feel confident enough to bring up the matter of the annual report once again.  No doubt the two were connected.

Fast forward nine months ahead.  Megan, indeed, was the finalist.  She settled into her small office with the big window (which had seemed better than the larger office with no window) and began to discover what her job was all about.  She knew she had to, with her one staff member, work on the database.  No problem there.  That could be updated and added to with competence.  She looked at previous funding records.  Quite sparse.  That wasn’t very satisfactory but, being a proactive, energetic person, she assumed she would, in no time, add to those records.  Then she began to inquire about fundraising goals and projects.  Now she ran into a brick wall.  She asked the president, “What do you want me to plan on for fundraising?  What countries and projects do we have for which I can raise money?”  “Whatever you can get money for is fine with us,” came the astonishing reply.

Slowly the sad truth sank in.  Without a plan, it was quite unclear as to what she was supposed to accomplish in terms of fundraising goals.  Without a plan, there were no accountabilities.  She had a hard determining who was responsible for what, and therefore who would help her make a case for funding, and worse yet, for what?!  As for the planning process–well, it consisted of the senior staff getting together, brainstorming for a day and having a lovely lunch, while a highly-paid consultant took notes and promised the next iteration of the plan.  Whether or not that ever arrived Megan didn’t know.  It certainly didn’t come to her.  Time went by and Megan began to realize some sad truths.  She made a list of these, for future reference–a point in time that might come much quicker than she had planned, either by her choice or that of the organization.

1. Planning is essential in order to know just what will be accomplished by the organization.  if you don’t know where you’re going, how will you know when you get there?!
2. Planning makes responsibilities apparent.  It outlines who is responsible for what and when.
3. Planning brings a team together, working toward a common end result with a common vision and mission.
4. Planning expresses accountabilities.  With no plan, no one need be blamed for anything because it’s not clear what each person was to accomplish.
5. Planning is essential for the fundraiser.  Without a plan to clearly indicate what the fundraiser is to accomplish, for what purpose and with resources, the fundraiser will be expected to perform miracles without internal support.
6. A plan expresses trustworthiness to donors, especially major ones such as philanthrocapitalists.
7. Indicators that hint the lack of planning should be heeded, such as ancient annual reports and maps that look good but lack substance (most were mirages on the landscape of the organization’s accomplishments).

Megan realized she should have heeded the warning signs, but for her it was unimaginable that an organization such as the International Outreach to Africa would not be a well-organized one with a plan into which she and her expertise would fit.  Without demands for accountability, the president could preen like a peacock and make things look good, even if the whole scenario was a house of cards, while she, the peon, would be left high and dry and perhaps even be the scapegoat.  Sadly she brushed up her resume and left for another position, this time much wiser and watchful for warning signals that would spell out her success or frustration and perhaps ultimate failure.

*Even though this features and international development organization, disguised of course, the principles apply to ALL nonprofit organizations.

Cassandra had been at her fundraising job for about three months. While quite challenging due to the economic downturn, the job seemed to have much promise and was fulfilling. She worked for an organization that she cared about–one that focused on abuse victims–and had a significant number of high-ranking board members, persons of influence in the community. Her boss was quite OK, she thought, although sometimes it seemed that she knew much more than the boss and outperformed her. That didn’t seem to matter, though, because the boss treated her well and let her enjoy her achievements. “It could be much worse,” Cassandra said to herself. “My boss could want or even demand the credit for the funds I bring in, she could keep me out of the information loop, or could be resentful of me. I think the status quo is quote a good situation, actually.”

Little did Cassandra know that this comfortable and workable status quo was about to change. One Monday morning she came to work, walked down the hall to her office, then did a double take and doubled back to peer into the chief development officer’s office. It had a forlorn look. Shelves previously containing fundraising books and record binders were empty. The desk was bare. The walls were bare. Cassandra stared. What had happened? Obviously her boss was gone, but when, and why, and now what?!

Quickly Cassandra learned that her boss had quit just ahead of being fired. Well, she thought, I guess the fact that I was bringing in most of the funds didn’t go unnoticed. But Cassandra was uneasy. She hadn’t minded being the chief fundraiser–not that her title or salary indicated this status, but the philanthropic income certainly did. Cassandra pondered the situation. She almost persuaded herself to go to the president of the organization in defense of her now-absent boss, and then had second thoughts. What difference did it make at this point?! She might as well get used to the turn of events and proceed with business as usual.

Then, little did Cassandra know that the wheels of change were turning without her knowledge, or worse yet, without her being involved. After a few weeks during which she held the reins of the fundraising program, suddenly a new person showed up. The president came in with a woman whom he introduced to Cassandra as “. . . your new boss. Please make her feel welcome, introduce her around, and help her move into her new position.”

Cassandra was stunned. What had happened?! Please don’t tell me, she thought, that I have a new boss and even though I was the main fundraiser, brought in the majority of the funds–something I thought the president knew or my boss wouldn’t have been under fire–I was never consulted, the candidates were never introduced to me, I had no chance to scope out the potential new bosses, and no one cared what I thought! Her thoughts raced as she tried to paste on a smile and act gracious. Inside, however, she rebelled. How could they treat me this way?! Now what??

How should Cassandra relate to this situation? She decided she should, first of all, sort through her own feelings and reactions, take her time doing it, and then decide her future action. After all, there was nothing she could do about the situation and if she reacted hastily, she might be vulnerable to a noose around her own neck!

First, she sorted through what reactions were possible. Was the fact that she was totally ignored during the search and hiring process an indication that:
a) she wasn’t important to the organization, even though she was in a number 2 position in fundraising;
b) fundraising wasn’t important to the organization;
c) her work was recognized but not valued as lending status to her position;
d) it was just an oversight and she should get over it.

Cassandra decided she really did need to give considerable thought to the situation or she wouldn’t know how to move ahead. Depending on which of the situational options she selected, subsequent actions would be somewhat dictated. If a and b were the answers, then perhaps she was swimming upstream and would eventually be eliminated as well. If the answer was d, then she might actually be able to flourish and grow with the job. How to decide?

Rather than react precipitously, Cassandra went about her business as usual, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was alert to nuances, she dissected every statement made by the new boss, she was distracted, and her productivity dropped. Not that anyone noticed–that kind of action would catch up with her later, she knew.

About three months later Cassandra came to a conclusion. She decided the situation was a combination of all the factors she had identified. The president hadn’t consulted her when hiring a new chief fundraiser because he didn’t value fundraising. He just wanted it to happen and didn’t want to pay much attention to how it happened–how funds were raised and with what results.

Cassandra chalked it up to a learning experience, realizing there was nothing she could have done about the situation, particularly since she didn’t know that a) her old boss was leaving, and b) a new boss was being hired. Regretfully she weighed her options and while sad to leave a cause that meant a lot to her, she also recognized her career would stall before long. Sometimes, she decided, there just isn’t anything to say or do, and in order to perform professionally, one must move on.

In short, analyzing and understanding a situation can be a valuable experience, and a fundraiser who has been subjected to the “behind my back” routine can learn to enhance analytical skills, hone perceptions, strive for objectivity, and plan ahead intelligently–and perhaps find a new job! Some situations just can’t be changed and unless the unforeseen happens (like the departure or demise of the uncaring and thoughtless president) it’s better just to face reality and find a better venue. They key, therefore, is to do it intelligently, understand the situation, analyze it as objectively as possible, and select the right option.

Joe thought he had approached his new job carefully.  He weighed each of the points that seemed mildly alarming or of serious concern, considering whether these presented routine challenges in fundraising, or if they were cause for alarm.  Remembering what his mentor had told him about “smoke alarm” situations—the warning signs of a no-win job, of challenging or impossible situations camouflaged as opportunities—he didn’t rush into the job but took his time in discovering as much as he could about what he would face if he accepted the position.

After saying “yes” to the offer and sending e-mails to friends and family which exuded enthusiasm and excitement for his new position, Joe arrived on site and moved into his new office.  The school year was into its second semester, so Joe had extra challenges in catching up with the campus routine, events, corporate culture, and demands of his role.

He had only been ensconced in his new environment for about a week when the president called him in.  Joe hadn’t been in the campus leader’s office before.  As he sank into the leather chair that faced the president’s desk, he thought, “Maybe I overlooked something.  Shouldn’t the president have communicated with me earlier?  Is he going to be a significant leader for my fundraising efforts?”  A little nagging doubt crept into his mind and made its way down to his midsection. Then he was brought back to the moment by the president’s first words, “Joe, we have a problem”

A problem?  What kind of a first-time greeting was that?  A distinct sense of “uh-oh” took over Joe’s mind and feelings.  “Yes, sir,” he replied, not sure how to respond to this first encounter with his new institution’s leader.  An uncomfortable silence descended.

The president cleared his throat, looked down at the pile of papers on his desk, finally raised his eyes to meet Joe’s worried and intense gaze.  “Yes, we have a problem.”  He hesitated.  “I might as well be blunt about it.  We hired you with the expectation that we would receive a large foundation grant which would pay your salary and also help us get started with fundraising in a big way.”  Once again he paused and hesitated.  “Well, the grant didn’t come through.”

“Yes, sir,” Joe replied again, really not knowing what would be an appropriate response.  The whole scenario became more and more puzzling.  What had he not been told?  What had he not heard, or listened to?  What had he forgotten to ask?  Had he really walked blindly into a no-win situation?

“Yes,” the president continued, “so we have to ask you to get really busy and not just raise the funds we need for finishing out the school year, but also to raise your salary.”   He then added, “With your stellar reputation and accomplishments—yes, we checked into your background well—this should be no problem for you.  Right?”

Stunned, Joe looked at the rich carpet beneath his feet as his face assumed the same hues as the red in the floor covering.  Yup, he thought, my mentor was right about the smoke alarms.  His mind jumped to the old cliché, “where there’s smoke there’s fire.”  Clearly they were viewing fundraising as a fire escape—a desperate measure to get out of the red, to pay the vendors, to meet payroll, and who knows what else.  He stared at the president and asked, “I’ll get paid as agreed, right?  I spent my own funds moving up here to take this job and have depleted most of my savings.”

The president mumbled something that Joe didn’t quite hear.  “Pardon me,” Joe leaned forward, “what did you say?”

“Well, we were hoping you could volunteer until the funds come in to pay you.”

To recap the feelings and thoughts that went through Joe’s mind would take too long.  He left town as soon as possible, realizing that the smoke alarm situation really did lead to fundraising being viewed as a fire escape—a way out of a desperate situation.  Fundraising really wasn’t sustainable at NoName College, had been sporadic and only geared up when great needs motivated action, and was in somewhat of a disarray.*

As he trekked to his previous haunts, hoping his old job hadn’t been taken yet, he mulled over the “fire escape” situations he knew about or had heard from others.

• A youth-service agency that was existing on a large grant from a local foundation that was nearing the end of its three-year funding period but was only now gearing up to do fundraising.  Friends who worked there feared it would go out of business when the grant ended.  What would then happen to the clients, to the youth who badly needed these services?
• Another small college that was doing minimal fundraising from alumni—sort of maintenance level fundraising—but suddenly “discovered” a rather significant debt and wanted to gear up a major campaign to raise funds for debt reduction.  Joe wondered what kind of donor loyalty existed that would even begin to justify a major campaign, especially one for something as unpopular as debt payments.
• A community orchestra that had existed happily on the largesse of a single patron whom they honored and feted, but who had suddenly landed in a hospital with major surgery and complications.  Why had they not diversified their donor base when they had a good income?
• A community service organization for families and children that operated with state funds, yet a recent change in government administration caused a drastic reduction of the grant, and the organization hadn’t engaged in fundraising to any great extent—just an occasional small grant now and then was all they could claim, so there was little fundraising history and therefore a limited donor base.  What would happen to the needy families and children?

He pulled off the highway to get a drink of water and lick his wounds—both financial and psychological.  His faith in his own professionalism was shaken.  He had fallen for a lofty and idealistic job description, only to find that fundraising was not a significant part of the organization’s operations and activities and was only addressed when a “fire escape” was needed—a way out of a difficult or challenging financial situation.

Like a dog crawling out of a wet and icy pond into which it had inadvertently fallen, he shook himself and grimaced as he headed back to his car.  Next time, he vowed to himself, I’m going to wrap myself in a security blanket when it comes to a fundraising job.  I’m going to look for an organization that has a sustainable, active, on-going, successful fundraising program where my talents can be used and I won’t be lowering the fire escape ladder!

*This incident actually occurred recently, unrealistic as it may seem.

While creeping along with traffic along the way to work, I listened to early morning news on my car radio.  One tragic story of an apartment fire caught my attention.  Although admittedly I listened with half a brain at first, carefully checking for icy areas on the road, I quickly came alert when I heard that the fire was disastrous because the smoke alarm wasn’t working. Fortunately the survivors were able to abandon the burning building and there were no fatalities.

Because I was driving to work where I knew a number of people and organizations would be calling or e-mailing me with fundraising dilemmas, I began to think about fundraising and the various real-life situations.  How many fundraising disasters might be averted if we became more alert to the warning signs–the verbal smoke alarms of job ads–and heeded them? I began to reminisce about some of my colleagues, students, clients, and others who engage in fundraising, whether as full-time professionals or part-time volunteers–whether as mere dabblers or serious contenders for today’s philanthropic dollars, and some situations they had encountered.

I remembered Joe*, a vibrant, energetic, knowledgeable young professional who already had some good experience working as a fundraiser for a foundation that supported student scholarships. Not quite content with his opportunities for career advancement and a bit disillusioned by the slow pace of the organizational culture, he began to respond to job ads.  Being single and therefore mobile, he thought it would be an adventure to relocate if the right job didn’t surface in his mid-Western city.

One job ad interested him in particular.  This was from a small New England college.  As usual, the ad proclaimed, “Vice President of NoName College–Excellent opportunity for a serious and seasoned fundraiser.” It then went on to list the job responsibilities.

Development Plan – Propose quantitative fundraising targets and strategic, capacity-building priorities on an annual basis and lay out an action plan of initiatives to achieve goals.  Annual Fund – Execute annual appeals and direct mail campaigns.  Board Giving – Work with president, board chair and development committee chair to define a board solicitation plan and major gifts strategy.  Foundation & Corporate Giving – Meet with president to update funding priorities and develop new ideas for funding proposals; work with development staff to turn ideas into fundable proposals. Work with board to identify relationships that will improve foundation and corporate giving relationships.  Events – Identify events for the year and supervise and support development staff in coordinating event logistics and details. Endowment Gifts & Planned Giving – Develop a fundraising strategy to double the endowment in 10 years and identify a target audience and develop a planned giving approach.  Major Donor Identification – Identify potential major donors and develop a major gifts strategy.  Best qualified candidates will have a track record of raising seven-figure gifts.

“Wow,” thought Joe. “This seems like a lot to demand from one professional.  Wonder what the catch is?  Maybe there is quite a large staff and I’ll be supervising more than I’m accustomed to.” He reviewed the responsibilities once again, mentally plugging in his experience under each responsibility description. Looking at it optimistically because he had been raising funds for scholarships and that fit nicely with higher education, and because he thought career advancement was most favorable in that environment, he took this step seriously.

His optimism began to fade quickly.  “What?  No fundraising plan? And this is a higher ed institution?  Maybe they just want me to draw up a new one, or refine the old one.”  So, he forged ahead. “Hmmm.  They say there’s a fundraising staff but they want me to ‘execute annual appeals and direct mail campaigns.’  If this is a senior position–a vice president position–why would the ad say this?  Well, maybe they misspoke in writing the ad.” He skimmed further down and the major gift item made him stop.  A small college with possible gaps in the fundraising operations–if he was reading the job ad correctly–and yet the expectations were in seven-figure major gifts?  And this after the phrase, “identify major gifts . . .?”

However, being the perennial up-beat guy, the optimist when others cringed at challenges, the let’s-do-it person when others shrank back, Joe kept reading the ad.  He next focused on the qualifications section.

A sincere commitment to higher education and a comfort level in diverse social settings – from mixing with board members, to working with faculty, to visiting alumni groups, to presenting to foundation heads.

“Whoa,” he thought again.  “How many of us actually get to meet foundation heads?  Isn’t that a bit too optimistic, or even unrealistic?”  He read on.  A minimum of seven years of progressively responsible experience in fundraising with a track record of success in securing support from foundations and individuals as well as some capital campaign experience.

“Hmmm,” he mused again.  “I don’t recall anything in the responsibilities section about capital campaigns.  Well, OK.  Maybe they’re leading up to one.  Might be great experience.  But wait–I’ve never done a capital campaign.  Does this leave me out?  Surely my major gift experience, although not even in the six-figure range, would carry some credibility?”  And he read on.

Experience asking for gifts and positioning others to make the ask. Understanding of the relationship of marketing to development.  OK so far, but then the next item caused him to pause. Demonstrated management ability, with strong planning, prioritizing, project management and tactical execution skills with experience in organizing a development department, coaching staff and overseeing vendors.

“So, does this person inherit a fundraising team, or organize one?  And what’s this about overseeing vendors?  Does it mean relationships with vendors?  Do I become a purchasing agent on top of everything else?”

Experience organizing the president and board around tasks they need to accomplish and ability to partner well with administrative team, board and program staff.

A touch of relief set it.  Joe had always liked organizing people and programs.  No problem here.  But wait.  Should he read between the lines and deduce that the president and board weren’t engaged in fundraising up to this point?  Outstanding written and verbal skills with the ability to articulate the college’s mission, programs and special strengths, and to present the college in a compelling and effective manner. Superior interpersonal skills with a “can do” personality, an entrepreneurial bent and high energy level.

Well, no problem here, Joe thought.  His natural energy and optimistic attitudes would be well suited to the desired qualification. Ability to think strategically and analytically with excellent follow-through, strong attention to detail and the ability to balance a variety of tasks with deadlines.  Flexibility to respond quickly to new opportunities and changing priorities. Computer skills are essential, especially with the latest versions of Word and Raiser’s Edge.

Again Joe paused.  No problem with the strategic thinking and follow-through.  These were comfortable operating habits.  But what’s that about Raiser’s Edge?  Familiarity was one thing. But for a vice president to be “skilled” in Raiser’s Edge?  That was quite another!

Bachelor’s degree required; advanced degree preferred.

“Nothing about a CFRE preferred,”  Jose mused.  “Might that indicate a lack of professionalism at this college when it comes to fundraising?”

Joe was about to toss away the ad but curiosity got the best of him.  At that point he called me for input.  Having been in some courses I had taught, he thought perhaps I could lend perspectives.

I listened, then responded, “This sounds like a typical ‘smoke alarm’ situation to me.  While we need to consider that perhaps the wording in the ad was poorly chosen and expressed, maybe there are enough warning signals here.  Why not make a list of them, and then let’s talk again to see if it’s worth the time and effort it takes to apply for this job?  More importantly, this will alert you to warning signals that the job isn’t what you want.  If you get an invitation to interview, you’ll at least know what questions to ask.”

Joe did just that.  He made a lengthy list of his questions, decided to apply in spite of the warning signs because the location and mission of the college appealed to him, and was invited to interview.  Tune in next time to see if this “smoke alarm” situation turned into a real fire, and if the institution was actually in a fire-escape mode.

Dr. Lilya Wagner, CFRE
Director