Hi everyone. This coming Saturday, the RVC team will be hosting a fundraising dinner. It will be a roast. Of me. They’ve invited people to come up on stage and deliver scathing insults, some of which, I can only imagine, will involve digs at my hair, general clothing choices, and rabid devotion to the Oxford Comma. Several foundation staff have signed up to do the roasting; it was actually a little surprising how fast they all said yes. “Vu, I heard you’re getting roasted. Sign me up, I’m in! The foundation will have 2 tables. Do you need other roasters? I know at least 39.”
Bring it on! But if you’re going to aim your arrows at me and my perfectly rational hatred of infinity scarves and fear of opening lethal cans of bake-at-home biscuit dough, you better remember these two things: First, I get to counter-roast. Second, the entire event will be vegan. And that is why it is called The Vegan Roast.
Which brings us to today’s topic. A few months ago I wrote “Meat Me Halfway: Veganism and the Nonprofit Sector (aka, Worst. NAF Post. Ever).” This was my most controversial blog post yet. However, it sparked great conversations, with thoughtful arguments and counter-arguments, and we need to have more of that. So this post is a follow up, nudged by my colleague Tomomi Summers. Please take several deep breaths.
Hi everyone. If you are reading this, it means that 2018 is here, and your holiday break—if you had one—is over. No more stuffing your face with food and binge-watching “The Crown” and “Godless” on Netflix. You must now face the depthless abyss of anguish and despair that is your email inbox, and the half-checked vortex of misery and regrets that is your to-do list.
You’re not alone. If you wish you were back in your warm cozy bed and under a fluffy comforter that seems at this moment like it’s stuffed with puppy snuggles and angel kisses, we can all relate. Most of us feel like crap. Heck, I plan to be surly and scowling this entire morning, starting with today’s staff meeting, led by my Managing Director. If there’s an icebreaker that involves going around the room and sharing New Year’s resolutions or something, I am going to stab someone with a swag pen.
Hi everyone. After last week’s post, I got a lot of comments, many in support, a few cautiously curious, and some strong disagreement. Which is all awesome, because we can disagree on many things, but I think the conversation around equity as it’s applied to fundraising is much needed. I also want to reiterate how much respect I have for the fundraisers in our field. I’ve said it before that I think you have to be pretty brilliant to be a successful fundraising professional, considering how complex this work is. I also want to reaffirm how much I appreciate donors, and that my critique of donor-centrism in no way precludes respect for donors, just like my critique of inequitable funding practices should not mean a disrespect for foundations or program officers, or my post on how data has been used to perpetuate inequity should not be seen as a dis on evaluators and researchers.
Today, I want to lay out a few preliminary thoughts on Community-Centric Fundraising. I was hoping to work on this further and present a tighter set of principles later, but because so many are curious, I thought I’d set down a few tentative points, based on the conversations and input I’ve had so far. Special thanks to AFP Calgary and Area and Banff Compass 2017, Amy Varga of Varga Consulting, Emily Anthony and Julie Edsforth of Clover Search Works, Erica Mills of Claxon Marketing, my friends in the Seattle chapter of EDHH, my staff, and other amazing colleagues, especially fundraisers of color, who provided thoughts, including disagreement. (It should be noted that the colleagues listed here helped me to think, but it does not necessarily mean they agree with everything presented here).
Hi everyone, before I launch into today’s topic, two announcements. First, I’m co-authoring a book about how we can reset the funder/grantee relationship to minimize power dynamics and allow us all to be more effective at our work and less likely to curl into the fetal position under our desks, rocking and weeping to 80s rock ballads. I’m writing it with Jane Leu and Jessamyn Shams-Lau, and we’re trying to raise $9,600 on Kickstarter by the end of this month. Please pitch in $5, $20, $50, or…$9,600. You’ll get cool prizes such as getting your name in the book for a donation of $5. For $50, you get a t-shirt and the book. For $200, you’ll also get a hand-made unicorn. For $9,600, I will personally fly to your office anywhere in the US and put on a puppet show about the horrors of restricted funding.
Second, last month I issued the #OpEdChallenge, which is simple: Write an op-ed related to your mission and get it published before the end of 2016. We nonprofits must be more vocal, especially in light of the political climate. Some colleagues are actually taking on this challenge! Look: “Seattle must address root causes of racial disparities.” And “Stand with your Muslim neighbors and fight bigotry.” You are awesome. If you’ve successfully taken this challenge, please let me know. Your op-ed may get mentioned here.
I have not written much on NWB about disability. Mainly because I am not an expert on it, and I’m afraid that I’ll make serious mistakes and cause offense. The world is complex, and there are so many ways for us to screw up. I’ve done it at least once already while researching for this post. I asked the NWB Facebook community for tips, writing “Please send in things we should all be aware of, and any pet peeves you have, especially if you work with individuals with disabilities or have a disability.” Continue reading “25 simple ways we can all be more disability-inclusive”