Hi everyone. I hope you had a relaxing Thanksgiving break (if you’re in the US). I know it’s hard to get back to work after a long weekend, which is why I am here in bed eating leftover mashed potatoes and listening to early-90s Hip Hop. Just remember, though, that your work makes a difference (Read “Welcome back to work,you sexy Jedi unicorn,” if you need a quick pick-me-up)
Unfortunately, however, the difference you are making is complex, which means it is challenging to measure. And this explains the crappy metrics of effectiveness our sector has been subjected to. Chief among them, of course, is overhead rate, one of the most insipid and destructive zombie concepts ever unleashed on nonprofits, as I and others have written about repeatedly (See: “How to deal with uninformed nonprofit watchdogs around the holidays.”)
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.
Hi everyone, Halloween, my favorite holiday, is this week. So here are some scary stories that are guaranteed to send tingles up your spine. Make sure you don’t read these alone. Also, if you’re looking for nonprofit-themed Halloween costumes, check out #NonprofitHalloweenCostumes on Twitter (“Dress in yellow clothing. Wear a brown hat. Say things like ‘We will triple the number of people served.’ You are a Strategic Flan.”)
There was clearly something wrong with the chair. The
team had received it from an anonymous donor. It showed up in the office one
day, a shiny black executive swivel, ergonomic, with a headrest. Right away, it
gave off a strange vibe that the team had never felt before. Staff who sat on
it complained that it made them feel uneasy. Someone suggested they bring in a local
medium who was known to be able to purify negative energy in objects and rooms.
Hi everyone, just a quick reminder that I’m having a Facebook Live update/AMA at 12:30pm PST on 10/22, so join if you’re free. Also, October 22nd is World Wombat Day, which I am proposing we turn into World Wombat and Flu Shot Day, a magical holiday where we send our friends pictures of wombats to remind them to get their yearly flu shots (Mark my words, this tradition WILL catch on). The flu killed 80,000 people in the US last season; please get flu shots for yourself and your family if you can.
A couple of years ago, I was discussing potential keynote
topics with a group of conference planners. “How about fundraisers’ role in
addressing systemic injustice,” I said, “including the need to have courageous
conversations with donors about difficult topics like slavery, colonization, wealth
disparity, and reparation? I’ll start with some light humor, maybe a few
pictures of adorable kittens, and then BAM—racism!”
“Uh,” said the planners, “I’m not sure our members are ready for…that…” There was an awkward silence. I ate some BBQ chips. In the foreground, some tumbleweeds rolled by. A horse snorted nervously.
The last four years have been rough on many of us. There is generalized anxiety caused by the relentless cruelty, racism, and inhumanity of this administration. My mental health professional friends have been getting more business than they can handle. All of us to a degree feel helpless against the overwhelming forces of hatred that we read about on a daily basis. Our dedication to the fight, though, means that we often channel this energy toward targets that are easier and closer in proximity. And thus, we sometimes turn on one another. As one colleague said to me, “People need closer targets, and ones they can successfully take down.”