Hi everyone. I know many of you have COVID-19 on your mind. I live in Washington State, where there have been multiple deaths from the virus. Nonprofits have been canceling events, and many companies and organizations are having staff work from home.
We all need to take this virus seriously. Many of you are still in denial. Wash your hands regularly, clean and disinfect surfaces, cancel events if you need to, allow staff to work from home, and use extra precautions if you work with older adult volunteer or clients. Also, check out this catchy and delightful song and video from Vietnam’s health department.
A while back, I wrote a post called “Are you or your nonprofit or foundation being an askhole?” An askhole, according to Urban Dictionary, is someone who asks for advice, but then completely ignores it or does the opposite, or someone who asks a lot of inane questions. However, I would say there are other ways to be askholes. Namely, asking people to do stuff for free or making unreasonable requests. Here are some ways you or your organization may be an askhole:
Hi everyone, this week is Valentine’s Day, arguably the most annoying and stressed-filled day ever. I like it as much as I like infinity scarves. But at least we have #NonprofitPickupLines on Twitter. Go make that trend again. “Hey there, is your nickname Cash-Flow Issues? Because you’re constantly on my mind.”
Valentine’s Day, however, is a great time to talk about relationships. Namely, the philosophy that everything is based on relationships. Fundraising is about developing, maintaining, and strengthening relationships with donors. Hiring is often about who you are connected to. “Remember,” we are often told, and we often tell others, “it’s not about what you know, but about who you know.” In this blog post, written six years ago, I explain that “85% of 95% of grants is 90% relationship building” (Let’s just say math is not my strongest suit).
Hi everyone. Happy Lunar New Year. If 2020 has sucked for you so far, you have a fresh new start. May the Year of the Rat bring you joy, love, good health, multi-year general operating funds, and Oxford Commas.
Last week, I wrote “It’s 2020. Be bold or get the hell out of the way.” Our sector’s addiction to intellectualizing, equivocating, risk-avoiding, and time-wasting is lethal, and there are few places where this is more present than within philanthropy. Because of power dynamics, these philosophies and practices get passed down to nonprofits, rendering us all less effective, leading to the continuation of injustice. We need philanthropy to be bold.
Which is why
I am so grateful that the Headwaters
Foundation, Robert Sterling Clark Foundation, and The Whitman Institute just
launched the Trust-Based
Philanthropy Project, “a five-year, peer-to-peer funder initiative with the goal
of bringing greater vulnerability, transparency, and humility to philanthropy.”
Hi everyone. I have almost exactly one month left before the sun sets on my time as an executive director. (If you want to sound majestic and full of gravitas, just add “the sun sets on [someone]’s time” to anything; for instance, “We have ten minutes before the sun sets on our time together at this dive bar.” Thanks, Lion King.) I explained why I and a whole lot of other leaders, especially leaders of color, are leaving here.
Last week, I got an email from a colleague, a woman of color ED, asking me to call her back. There was no context. I knew what this meant. It meant she was leaving her position and wanted to give me a courtesy notice before the announcement came out. I was right. “I’m tired,” she said; I could hear the weariness in her voice. We were silent for a moment. I didn’t know what to say that didn’t seem trite or patronizing. “I’m sorry,” I said.
Quietly, nonprofit leaders are leaving their posts. And most of us ED/CEOs swear off ever doing it again. And younger folks, it seems, are increasingly reluctant to take up the mantle. Who the hell can blame them? The ED’s job has always been like Sisyphus pushing the fundraising boulder up a hill, but while the eagle of program impact is pecking out his liver; the Cerberus of board, staff, and community expectations is chasing after him; and he’s trying to avoid looking at the Medusa of cash flow projections.