Occasionally,
I have the opportunity to teach other nonprofit organizations the
little that I know about fundraising. One of my favorite stories to
use in this endeavor comes from a great book written by Joan
Flanagan called The Grassroots Fundraising Book. Flanagan tells her
readers that if they send a letter asking for money to a randomly
constructed mailing list (the “shotgun” approach), they’ll get a
very small return, maybe less than 1%, and will spend more money on
mailing costs than they will gain. But, Flanagan continues, if they
send a second mailing only to those people who responded to the
first, they’ll experience around a 75% return. The moral of this
story, according to Flanagan, is simple: Raising money from the
believers is easy; it’s identifying the believers that’s hard.
Most of you know that we’ve been involved for the past few months in
a capital campaign to pay for our new administrative and training
space in Springdale. We’ve worked hard to connect with the believers
in our community, those families and individuals who are committed
to quality supports and inclusive communities for people who have
disabilities. What a privilege it’s been! We’ve met lots of new
people who share our commitment to equal rights and fair treatment
for everyone, regardless of perceived ability, and it’s fair to say
that we’ve re-connected with some of our old friends in new and
concrete ways. It’s worth all of the hard work that goes into a
campaign just to make these connections. It’s enough to restore a
person’s faith in humanity.
When I talk to my friends in the nonprofit business who know that
we’re engaged in this campaign, I get a lot of sympathetic looks and
words of comfort and commiseration. It’s almost as if I’m reporting
on the loss of a loved one, or the status of a long-term
debilitating illness. Their responses tend to go like this: “Hey, I
know how hard it is. Just remember, we’ve all been through it, and
you’ll get through it too. I’ll be thinking about you.”
While I can’t tell you that I’m chomping at the bit to start another
campaign as soon as this one’s completed, I haven’t found it to be
as egregious as all that. It’s actually been really reassuring , as
well as educational, for me. Sometimes I can get all wrapped up in
“fighting the good fight” to the point that I feel that I’m fighting
it alone. Sometimes (confession time here) I use that to my
advantage. I can dredge up a little of the “David vs. Goliath”
syndrome and live on adrenaline and righteous indignation for weeks
on end. What this campaign has taught me is that, while that may
sometimes work, it’s probably not the most effective way to get
things done. A little righteous indignation is a good thing and
goodness knows there are plenty of things in this business to be
indignant about. What I’ve learned from this campaign, however, is
that there’s a whole universe of other believers out there who want
to be involved, and who can definitely help the cause. They can be
just as righteously indignant as I can, and can often be more
effective advocates. We can always do more to change the world when
we enlist others in the work.
I’ve been humbled by the many contributions to this cause so far,
and I look forward to making new connections as we move into the
final phase of the campaign. It’s a great cause, and we’re ready to
share it with the rest of the believers out there.
There’s one more little gem that I use in my training sessions with
other organizations that seems especially appropriate right now, and
that’s the idea of the “lone visionary.” When we have a vision that
we’re passionate about, human nature sometimes causes us to hold it
very close to us as if no one else could possibly do it justice.
People who are the founding mothers and founding fathers of
nonprofit organizations sometimes doom those organizations to
failure because they can’t let go of their “baby” enough to enlist
others in the cause. My little bit of wisdom about that is simply
this: If your vision is so narrow that only you can do it justice,
perhaps it’s not a vision that can or should be supported. If it’s a
vision worthy of support, then it must be shared. Nothing is as
powerful as a shared vision, and nothing is as fragile as a vision
that only I can see.
This capital campaign has reassured me that our vision of an
inclusive community, where everyone is accepted and supported, is a
powerful, powerful vision. We’ve connected with new supporters and
reconnected with “old” supporters. It’s about identifying the
believers. It’s about finding those people who share our vision.
Thanks to all of you for your support.