Hi everyone. OK, I think I’ve almost recovered from the Seahawks’ Super Bowl defeat. I can now eat Skittles without bursting into tears. All of you were very helpful throughout this grieving process, giving gentle encouragement like “Get over it! It’s a ridiculous football game!” and “Ha ha, your team lost! Go Patriots!” (If you haven’t joined the NWB Facebook community, you’re missing out on daily hilarity and unicorn jokes.)
Valentine’s Day is coming up this week. Last year, I wrote “Nonprofit professionals, you are each a unicorn,” sort of a Valentine to all the dedicated, smart, and highly attractive people in our field. This year, I thought I would try poetry. Below are three love poems dedicated to various people in the sector. I hope they inspire you. Happy Valentine’s Day, you sexy nonprofit muffins, you.
Ode to the Bookkeeper
Shall I compare thee to a chart of accounts?
Thou art more complex than line items be
Numbers no mere mortals can surmount–
Yet yield to thine eyes but contentedly
Challenges more varied than flow’rs of May—
Within thine hands lay peaceful, benign
Nevermore frantic need I to pray
That items on budget and statements shall align
In board meetings gloomy shadows doth cast
Across our Treasurer’s face, solemn, intense
And still when thy reports arrive at last
Relief unspoken in revenues, expense
So long as thy hands can type, thine eyes can see
So long we’ll trust thee to do our 990
My Board’s Like a Red, Red Rose
O my board’s like a red, red rose
That opens in the morn
O my board’s like that same blossom:
Both petals and the thorns
As fair art thou, my bonnie boss,
No board is greater than.
As I will follow thee across
A dozen strategic plans
A dozen strategic plans, I wouldst
While our work needs be done
I will follow thee still, I wouldst
Till our coffer doth empty run
And fare thee well, my only board,
Fare thee till next meeting I pray.
And if my performance doth please thee so
Let us discuss my raise
I can write the saddest grant proposal tonight
I can write the saddest grant proposal tonight
Write, for example, the night is cold,
And a family shivers, huddled in the darkness,
An old keyboard rattles under fingertips and sings
I can write the saddest grant proposal tonight
I loved you, and yesterday you loved my org too
On a night like this, I held your award letter,
Reading it again and again under the infinite sky
You loved us at times, and at times we loved you too.
How could we not love your long, detailed RFPs?
I can write the saddest grant proposal tonight
To think we have failed, to feel we have lost
To see the immense hole in the budget, immenser without you
And the outcomes fall to the page like hummus to a plate.
What does it matter that we are an existing program?
The night is cold, and strong is the illusion of sustainability.
In the distance, a program director weeps. In the distance.
You are not here, and my soul is not content.
My eyes, exhausted, scan your website
My heart continues hoping, but you are not with me
The same program yielding the same great outcomes.
Yet we of that distant site visit are no longer the same.
I love you, yet I hate you, yet I love you, yet I hate you.
Grants are so small, and the restrictions so large
Another. You will fund another. Like you funded us before.
Maybe our logic model was not strong enough, or our Appendix A.
On a night like this, I think of what we could have done.
The night is cold, and my soul is not content
How I wish this to be the last pain you make me suffer,
and this the last grant proposal I write you.
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