Quick announcement before we start today’s post: In light of the fact that certain funding practices are not just annoying, but actually endangering people’s lives, such as funders requiring anything to be signed or mailed, I have decided to start naming and shaming on Twitter, using the hashtag #CrappyFundingPractices. DM me @nonprofitAF (or email vu@nonprofitAF.com) any ridiculousness you see, and I will tweet about it and tag the funder so you can remain anonymous. Then I want everyone following to like and retweet because it notifies the funder every time you do that.
All crappy funding practices and general philanthropic shenanigans are fair game to be called out. (updated to add: I always recommend direct communications and feedback to funders, so please try to do that when you can. However, because of power dynamics, sometimes it helps to remain anonymous.) To balance things out, let’s also publicly acknowledge funders engaged in #AwesomeFundingPractices. If you can keep your DM to 280 characters and also find me the funder’s twitter handle, that will save me some time, but don’t worry too much about it. Feel free also to use the hashtags yourselves. I also encourage you to write anonymous reviews of foundations on Grantadvisor.org.
Hi everyone, like you, I’ve been on lots of Zoom calls. And I noticed we use tons of jargon and cliches. So, for a break from serious COVID news and discussions this week, here is part 5 of the NAF jargon series, where we examine annoying and overused jargon, and then come up with other phrases we should use instead, until those jargon themselves become annoying. New game: You get a point for every new jargon you use this week on video meetings (Here are parts 1, 2, 3, and 4, with classics like “silos” and “in my wheelhouse.” The new jargon in those posts also count towards your points.)
everyone. I hope you are hanging in there. I’ve heard from so many colleagues
of the devastating impact that COVID has had on organizations and people. Here
are a few quotes from across the sector:
“My agency that serves people with
disabilities is closed, except for essential staff. The other approximately 90
staff have been furloughed without pay or laid off.”
“I work at a food bank that serves people
living with HIV and other serious illnesses, the majority of them are seniors.
Demand is at an all-time high as clients are losing work or family/caregiving
support. Our program is mostly run by volunteers, and we have lost hundreds of
hours per week of volunteer support. We had to cancel three fundraising events
and dozens of food drives, which would have raised hundreds of thousands of
dollars in food and cash. So basically demand is increasing sharply while
funding and volunteer support is decreasing even more sharply. Many staff are
immunocompromised and/or caring for children without childcare while trying to
keep the place running.”
Hi everyone. I hope you are doing OK amidst the Coronavirus pandemic. It’s scary. Take care of yourself while socially distancing. Most of us have never faced anything like this before, and we cannot take any chances. Cancel everything and stay home. I am in Seattle. My kids’ schools are closed for the next six weeks, possibly longer. It is going to be rough, but we are far luckier than most, as my partner and I both have flexible schedules.
A lot of folks are hurting right now. Small business
owners, people without sick leave, gig workers, folks without childcare, those
who have no emergency savings, incarcerated people, people experiencing
homelessness, disabled folks, kids who rely on school for food, those who are
undocumented—all face daunting challenges with no foreseeable end date. Meanwhile,
nonprofits face drastic reductions in revenues because of canceled events and
other factors, which means we are less able to help during a time when we are
Amidst all this, I got a message from a colleague saying
that a foundation just informed its grantees that due to its corpus being affected by the stock market, in part because
of the Coronavirus, it may cut down on funding, possibly not even be able to
disburse committed funds.
It’s been over two months now since I stepped down as an executive director. I wish I could say that, unchained from the shackles of leadership, I would be able to relax and recharge like I had planned. I haven’t been able to yet. I have to unlearn so many strategies that I adopted to be an effective ED: Constant vigilance, emotion suppression, functioning on reduced sleep, abandonment of personal hygiene, etc.
And then there’s the guilt. I feel like I have abandoned
my friends in the trenches. This guilt manifests in my trying to buy colleagues
lunches and coffees, leading to conversations like this:
Me: Let me buy you lunch.
Colleague: That’s sweet, but you don’t need to do that.
Me: No, I insist! It’s the least I can do! You are facing
so much! Let me pay!
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: