How Nonprofit With Balls got its name; it’s more complicated than you think

 

balls 2Recently, a new nonprofit came to meet me at the VFA office, which I appreciated, since I’m a very busy person, and meeting at my office allows me to watch a second episode of “The Daily Show” on hulu.com. This particular advocacy organization was trying to advance education in Seattle, and they wanted to see about collaborating with VFA. “Luke” came on time and was very friendly.

“Two separate people mentioned you, Vu, as someone we should talk to,” he said, beaming. He went on to present his concept, which was not altogether a horrible idea for advancing education. But I had this sinking feeling in my stomach. He was going to ask VFA to pull together a focus group.

“We’re trying to really engage communities of color, so we’re hoping you would do a focus group of 15 or 20 people for us to listen to.”

Every week, VFA gets some sort of request to rally our community members: “Vu, the seawall is breaking! Can you recruit several immigrants and refugees to give input?” The following week: “Vu, the combined sewers are overflowing! We want to get the Vietnamese community’s thoughts!” It is rarely anything fun: “Vu, a delegation is going to Hawaii to study the effects of hula and mild inebriation on nonprofit executives’ burnout rates, and we’d like you to come.”

“To be frank,” I said, “we are at capacity. We have only three full-time staff here at VFA running several programs and projects. I’m afraid that unless there are resources provided, I cannot ask my team to tackle any additional responsibilities.”

Luke looked perplexed and started talking about the importance of the effort he is trying to advance. I told him that if he wants effective collaborations, he should go to his funders and advocate for a more equitable financial support of organizations that are out there on the ground doing direct work so that we can have more capacity for advocacy. He became irritated and extremely defensive.

“So basically,” he said, “you want me to go back to my funders and say ‘Vu won’t play ball unless we give him money.’ I can’t do that.”

Luke must be new to Seattle. In a city known for process and indirectness, it was rather refreshing to hear him talk so bluntly. It had a certain symphony, like a wrench thrown into a blender.

“Play ball? Listen, we small ethnic nonprofits are knee-deep in balls! We have balls flying at us from every corner, from the City, from the County, from the School District, from organizations like yours. Usually without any funding to support our operations. We can’t juggle your balls for you!”

Kidding, I would never say that; at least, not while sober. What I said was, “The traditional ways of engaging communities of colors do not work. If you want to rally a few people to ‘listen’ to, then I am sure you can succeed in the short term. If you want long-term impact, I am telling you that you and others will need to shift your traditional way of doing and funding things. You can either hire a multicultural team of outreach staff, or you will need to work with cultural organizations; either way or preferably both, it will take resources because it takes much more effort to reach communities of color.”

He was visibly annoyed. “I am not looking for a handout, Vu,” he said, “you know what, if you just write down how much it’ll cost to pay for a few hours of someone’s time to call up people and how much facilities and food and other expenses will be, we’ll figure out a way to pay for them.”

I told him I didn’t have time to sit down and figure out his budget for him. And that even when there are resources, sometimes we have to turn down great projects because they do not align with our strategic plan.

“That really saddens me,” he responded, “and when this effort is huge and successful, and the Vietnamese community’s voice is missing, we’ll both understand why.”

I smiled. There was no point arguing further with him.

“All right,” he said, “how about this? We get lunch, you and I, and you bring just one Vietnamese client. Just one. You know what they say, the journey of ten thousand steps begins with one step, so can you do that? Just one client.”

“Luke,” I said—

“Just one!”

“Do you know what it takes to coordinate even something as simple as that? First I have to figure out which clients I know, then I have to call up four or five of them to see if any are interested. If one is interested, I have to find a slot that works with your schedule, my schedule, and this other person’s schedule. Also, I’d be more than glad to have lunch with you, but I am 90% certain that a client will not join, because they work during the day.”

Our time was up. I started feeling a pang of guilt. Perhaps I was a little too harsh. “Listen,” I said, “I want to be sure there is no misunderstanding between us—”

“Oh, there’s not,” he said, smirking, “I heard you loud and clear.”

“I don’t BS,” I said, staring him in the eye, “if you want real community engagement, help change the traditional way of doing things.”

I walked him out and sat down at my computer to write my follow-up thank-you email. Was I out of line? Was I taking out some sort of unconscious frustration on Luke? I don’t doubt his or his organization’s intentions. Perhaps he just came at a bad time. Every month, we get a dozen similar requests, usually from well-meaning and well-funded organizations. My staff work ridiculous hours managing programs and several capacity building and other projects. I’ve never worked with a more dedicated team. Is it unreasonable then for me to feel protective and to get annoyed at people like Luke, who seem to think we ethnic nonprofits have unlimited time and that we are selfish when we refuse to “collaborate” and “play ball” with mainstream organizations vastly better funded than we are?

Luke responded back, and we are having lunch in a couple of weeks. I’ll keep you updated. [Read Part 2, my lunch with Luke]

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Collective Impact: resistance is futile

honey-bees-326337_960_720In the past few years, the concept of Collective Impact has covered lots of ground, with great results. Concerted efforts can kick some serious butts. Look what Strive has accomplished. Characteristics of CI are a common agenda, shared measurements, mutually reinforcing activities, constant communication, a backbone organization, and monthly happy hours.

However, like taking naps at work, Collective Impact should be done strategically and sometimes not at all. Recently, I’ve started seeing it become more and more like the Borg in Star Trek, a species that assimilates other life forms in a quest for dominance and perfection. Controlled by a hive mind that neutralizes any sort of individualism, and comprising billions of annexed individuals, they are strong and terrifying, like an army of zombie robots, each with one eye that has a laser beam. Resistance is futile, since any entity that tries to put up a fight is either assimilated and loses its identity, or else destroyed.

That, unfortunately, is what it feels like sometimes by those of us on the ground, the nonprofits that work directly with individuals and families. While no one is arguing with the importance and effectiveness of collective impact, it can be a little frustrating. Three or four times this year, we were told by various funders we need to align with The Borg. (There are several great CI efforts all around, so by “The Borg,” I am not referring to any specific one). Program officers, who are the Sherpas on the oftentimes Everestian slopes of foundation applications, have seen this shift in paradigm and have been trying to be helpful. Once a while, I get a call like this:

Program Officer: I’m calling to provide some feedback on your proposal. Are you in a secure location?

Me: Yes. I just walked into the bathroom.

PO: You need to mention a little bit more about your work with the Borg. The review team is looking for projects that really align with the Borg’s strategy.

Me: All right, we can expand that section. Thank you.

PO: I never called you. This conversation never happened.

Sometimes, we actually align with the Borg, in which case I’m happy to expand on how wonderful it is to be assimilated into the Borg hive mind. But occasionally we do not align. Heck, once in a while it makes no sense to be. As powerful as the Borg are in Star Trek, they were never able to assimilate members of Species 8472, which looks kind of like bugs, but that’s neither here nor there. Species 8472 is just so biologically different and incompatible, assimilation would only lead to disaster. A parallel can be made with collective impact efforts that try to involve communities of color, who have unique strengths and needs. Oftentimes, the first instinct is to assimilate everyone under one umbrella, and that could work. However, sometimes it does not work, and it may not necessarily be anyone’s fault. Several umbrellas may be needed.

Another frustration I’ve seen is funders’ shifting the funding priorities from direct service work to collective impact efforts and backbone organizations. Queries about support for direct impact programs often come back with “Sorry, we are now prioritizing funding the Borg’s work. Maybe you should go talk to them.” This is extremely frustrating. While the push is for everyone to align with CI efforts, the funding is not equitable. Direct service organizations, especially the ones that focus on communities of color, can only be involved in these amazing, region-wide efforts if we are strong and stable and have credibility with our clients. VFA has been getting requests to join various CI efforts and we have become more and more involved. If we were to shut down our after-school, leadership, parental engagement, and community-building work, no one would approach us, because we would have no connection or credibility. In order for these major collective impact efforts to succeed, funders must continue funding direct service organizations in parallel.

Much more importantly, however, is that clients may not be able to afford the time that it often takes for Borg-like efforts to achieve perfection. CI usually takes years. A kid who is failing school or an elder who needs food doesn’t have years. I just talked to a principal of a school with 90% low-income kids of color. She would love a common agenda and shared measurements and fully supports the work in this area. But right now her school desperately needs an after-school tutoring program because many students are several grades behind and they go home to empty houses and get no support.

In the Star Trek universe, there are few things more terrifying than a Borg invasion. They sweep through and assimilate or destroy everything. They absorb all resources. Collective impact should not have to be like that. The premise for collective impact is that we can do things much better by working together than by working in isolation. This is a premise that all of us on the ground fully believe in. But funding must be equitable and direct service must be simultaneously supported.

Ask a nonprofit director: advice on love, marriage, and other stuff

Executive Directors are problem solvers. That’s why we get paid the big bucks. But why keep it to just nonprofit problems? We would make great advice columnists!

adviceDear Nonprofit Director: After a year of dating the girl of my dreams, I introduced her to my family and announced we were getting married. The reaction was warm but not enthusiastic. Neither set of our parents has offered to help with the costs of the wedding happening next year. How do we bring this subject up to them? Anxious in Anchorage.

Dear Anxious: Potential funders like your parents are not obligated to support your project. They may do so if it aligns with their priorities; you can present a clear argument with research and best practices, you yourselves are financially invested, and you can promise significant outcomes, e.g., grandchildren. Keeping your parents in the dark about your girlfriend for a year was a mistake, as transparency is always more effective in engaging your donors. Given these circumstances, I recommend you postpone this project a year or two in order to build up your infrastructure and strengthen your relationship with your potential funders.

Dear Nonprofit Director: My teenage daughter is incorrigible! I know all kids this age go through a rebellious phase, but it’s driving me crazy. She is sullen, lazy, disobeys curfews, gets poor grades, and neglects to do her one chore, which is to load up the dishwasher. That’s the one chore I ask her to do! When she’s not holed up in her room texting, she hangs out with her equally irresponsible friends. I’m at wit’s end! What should I do? Massively Overwhelmed in Minnesota

Dear MOM: First, own up your part in this. Did you give clear directions and expectations? Does she have a detailed chart with chores, metrics, and deadlines? Have you provided her with sufficient dishwasher loading training? When those things are taken care of, the problem will usually resolve itself. If not, ask yourself if this is a matter of fit. Sometimes, it’s just not a good match. Have a talk with your daughter to see if this is the right family for her. Whatever you do, document her behavior and your actions in writing so that liabilities are decreased in the unfortunate event you need to part ways.

Dear Nonprofit Director: My husband and I are thinking of having children. We are in our mid-30’s and love to travel. How do we know if we’re ready to settle? Ambivalent in Kansas City.

Dear Ambivalent: Do a SWOT analysis to determine your family’s strengths and weaknesses, as well as potential opportunities (tax incentives, having someone to take care of you in your old age, the chance to create a kid who might discover the cure for cancer) and threats (collapse of the Euro, zombie apocalypse, etc.). Sometimes a more extensive assessment, in which you solicit the feedback of key stakeholders, such as your financial advisor, may be helpful. It is important, though, that this new element aligns with your family’s mission, vision, and strategic plan.

Dear Nonprofit Director: I have a coworker, let’s call him Chuck, who is a total slob. Ugh! This guy never washes his dishes, just leaves them in the sink. We’ve been giving him hints, as well as posting a sign over the sink that says “Please wash your own dishes, Chuck!!!!” No use! How do we get Chuck to see how his disgusting behavior is unprofessional and causing resentment? Yours, Fed Up.

Dear FU: Really? You come to me for this? Do you think this grant application is going to BS itself?! When you have challenges with your coworkers, I expect you to first try to resolve the matter on your own before involving me. Go talk to Chuck directly, share your perspective on how his behavior is affecting your work, and negotiate on a solution. If that does not work, let me know and I will step in to mediate. 

Dear Nonprofit Director: I have a son who is not exactly the brightest, but he’s not all that dumb either. He’s just up in the clouds, with bunnies and unicorns, wanting to make the world better or something. That’s noble, but I’m afraid he’ll never get anywhere. And he’s not blessed enough to coast by on his looks or charms. How can I convince him to switch to a practical job like being a pharmacist? I hear they pay pretty well. The boy is kind of physically weak too, and you don’t have to lift much as a pharmacist. Concerned in Seattle.

Dear Concerned: Leave me alone, Dad!

“Ask a Nonprofit Director” is the premiere syndicated advice column on life issues from the perspective of an Executive Director. Read Part 2 with more questions and advice from an ED here. Send your questions to askanonprofitdirector@gmail.com. 

Feng Shui for nonprofits. Part 1: Attracting funding

feng shuiToday’s post explores how we can use feng shui, which means “wind water,” to optimize the energy in our work space, not just so that we feel good while at work, but also so that our space attracts funding for our organizations. Now, I do not claim to be a feng shui expert, so keep that in mind while you read the tips below. If it makes you feel better, I did do some light Googling during commercials of Iron Chef while writing this post.

Makes sure your desk faces the entrance to your space. Never have your back to the entrance. Not only is facing the door symbolic of your being able to see and receive any opportunity that passes by, but you’ll also be much more successful watching your favorite shows on Netflix streaming. If for some reason you can’t move your desk or computer, place a mirror so that you can still see behind you.

Place a large money tree in the conference room, or wherever your board usually meets. Money trees attract wealth, and placing it where your board members meet provides them with energy to go raise funds. If the money tree starts to look unhealthy, it may mean that the board has been neglecting their fundraising duties. Get a new tree right away. And maybe a new board.

Have a lucky bamboo near you. They are really easy to take care of. Just stick them in some water with a handful of pebbles. The plant represents the element wood and provides a sense of growth, the pebbles represent earth and provide a sense of grounding, the water provides a flow of energy. That’s three out of the five feng shui elements. Throw in a paperclip to represent metal and tie a red ribbon around the bamboo to represent fire. When your bamboo dies (probably from the rusting paperclip), get a new one immediately to symbolize renewal.

Find out where the Gates Foundation is relative to your organization.  Now get all the desks in your office to align facing that general direction, especially the Development Director’s desk. If for some reason you can’t move your desk, get an award letter from a grant you received and tape it to the wall that’s lined up with the direction of the Gates Foundation.

Get a Care Bear. If you have a cranky coworker that you barely get along with, it distracts you and diverts good energy required for fortune to come in. Buy a Care Bear, and put it strategically in a place in your office between you and this person. Don’t get Grumpy Bear, though.

Make a thousand paper cranes. In Japan, a thousand paper cranes are made for special occasions, such as weddings, to symbolize luck, peace, and health. When you getcranes a grant rejection or other rejection notes, fold them into a crane. You’ll reach a thousand in no time.

Have at least 9 different things that bring you happiness. Pictures of your family, Farside cartoons, photos of cute baby animals, etc. The number 9 is especially lucky. For me, I have a whole bunch of mini bottles of alcohol. Having these items around bring me a dose of happy energy, especially effective before staff meetings.

Unclutter. Especially get rid of angular or pointy objects, or at least point them away from you. Sharp objects—knives, letter openers, colleagues with spikey hair—bring about bad energy, and having them directed at you is not good. If you must keep them, point them in the general direction of that coworker who leaves their dishes in the sink for days. Just kidding. Direct them at a plant, to absorb all that bad energy.

Surround yourself with leadership and management books. Yeah, you will never get around to reading them. However, these books bring good energy and knowledge, which you can absorb by osmosis. Why, just by having Jim Collin’s classic book in the office, my org’s porcupine has gone from good to great on the flywheel. Or something like that.

Put up pictures of your favorite program officers. You can usually find them on foundation websites. Program officers are so dreamy, and their pictures will help increase the energy to bring in site visits. Just make sure you take the pictures down during any actual site visits, since restraining orders may bring negative energy to your work space.

With a few simple changes, you can improve the energy around your space, which will help to bring in fortune. In “Feng Shui for Nonprofits, Part 2,” we will talk about how the arrangement of tables, chairs, and where people are seated during meetings affect the energy around power. Gotta go. I have a few dozen cranes to fold.

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EDiquette: 13 common courtesies every ED should follow

EDOnce a month, we Executive Directors get together for ED Happy Hour, a time for all of us to share best practices, discuss the challenges of our field, and strategically plan for collective impact. At least, that’s what we tell people while we argue over topics like who would win in a fight, a hungover gladiator, or a ninja who accidentally took night-time cold medication? Last month, 13 ED’s got together, and the topic of ED-to-ED interaction came up. So, in a mostly sober state, we hammered out a list of common Executive Director etiquette, aka “EDiquette.” Here they are, in no particular order:

Ye Olde Liste of EDiquette

EDiquette 1: An ED will always have another ED’s back. For example, if another ED texts saying he’s having a bad day, we’ll drop everything to cheer that ED up. Unless we’re talking to a funder. Or playing Scramble with Friends.

EDiquette 2: An ED will not use his or her personal assistant to schedule a meeting with another ED, unless that other ED has a personal assistant too. This generally makes the ED without an assistant feel like crap and is not nice. Each time I get an assistant after directly emailing another ED, I am tempted to write back something like, “Please tell Her Royal Directorship, Mabel the Strategic, Successor to Julian the Programmatic, Successor to Edna the Founder, that I shall be glad to meet with her at noon on the 19th of May, and that upon my return to the office, I shall order my staff to sing her praise for seven and three fiscal years.”

EDiquette 3: An ED will not ask another ED to serve on his or her board. Unless it’s short-term and for a very strategic reason, such as turning a particularly challenging board around or bringing balance to a board/staff baseball game.

EDiquette 4: An ED will not fraternize with or poach another ED’s staff. Good staff on the team means we ED’s can work less while taking credit for more stuff, so it’s not nice for another ED to steal them, or groom them to be stolen later.

EDiquette 5: An ED will not ask another ED to be a table captain. We can, however, ask other ED’s to purchase individual tickets and be there for support. But, minimum donations do not apply to ED’s since we go to so many of these events and would be seriously broke if we had to give the minimum each time.

EDiquette 6: An ED will try not to look at another ED’s salary information on 990 Finder. And if she does–shame!–she will not admit to doing so. It is best to assume that all of us are equally underpaid.

EDiquette 7: An ED will not talk bad of another ED. Ex-ED’s who chose to leave are fair game, as they have scorned our noble position, and thus we are righteous to spake ill of them and curse their field to remain fallow and their livestock barren until the seventh generation.

EDiquette 8: An ED will not judge another ED’s coping methods. It is a stressful job, and each ED deals with it in a different way, be it drinking, or watching excessive amounts of TV, or making sock puppets resembling local program officers and having them act out scenarios where they fund our organizations. (What, like your Saturday nights are soooo much more exciting).

EDiquette 9: An ED will freely share templates. We don’t need to reinvent the wheels; it’s helpful when ED’s share their personnel handbook, anti-discrimination and harassment policy, succession plans, and recipes for simple yet elegant h’ordeuvres.

EDiquette 10: An ED will open doors to funders or other stakeholders when nicely asked by another ED. Especially when asked at a bar after the other ED has bought several rounds already.

EDiquette 11: An ED will not say to another ED, “You look tired.” That’s just a euphemism for “You look like crap.” We know this already. We have accepted the fact that ED’s age twice as fast as normal people.

EDiquette 12: An ED will be honest with another ED when asked about the performance of a staff who just applied for a position at the other ED’s organization. There are liability issues, so we are using a system of signals. One cough means “This person had a bad attitude and didn’t get along with the rest of the team.” A yawn means “This person was not good at following through.” A long sniffle followed by a sneeze means “This person may actually be one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

EDiquette 13: An ED will publicly admit to knowing another ED, especially in front of program officers, even if that other ED is embarrassing and says things like “I have a sock puppet that looks exactly like you.”

If you’re an ED, feel free to suggest other items (if you’re not on the EDHH mailing list, email me). And spread this list far and wide, especially to Their Royal Directorships, the ED’s who have assistants.