Read from the Fundraising Experts!
In 1988, the feminist poet and activist Audre Lorde wrote, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence. It is self-preservation.” Thirty years later, Lorde’s framing of self-care is instructive for those of us working in the nonprofit sector. If we are to continue the long work of healing the world, we must first do the work of healing ourselves.
As 34 senior executives from European nonprofits took seats at a large round table at Rockefeller Center in New York City recently for an intensive fundraising course, we scanned the room trying to identify our opening speaker.
Two winters ago, Wilfredo Rosario and his wife Jazmin were watching the Weather Channel as an ice storm barreled down on their Clayton, North Carolina home. One of the TV tips was to pull plastic bags over your vehicle’s side-view mirrors so that when the storm passed, you could de-ice by simply removing the bags.
I love the month of April, daylight savings time, and the loud chirping of birds singing in spring. And I love the Masters Tournament. No gathering of top performers is more impressive than those who congregate in Augusta, Georgia in early April to participate in every golfer’s dream week.
I have the privilege of working with nonprofit leaders around the country and lately have noticed a common theme. They each embrace a version of this belief: The work is too important for me to slow down. This high-minded ideal is inspiring and can lead to remarkable work, but it can also lead to burnout.
The other day when my 20-year-old son and I sat down to discuss his short- and long-term goals, I pulled out the proper tools — paper and pen. He shot me a withering look and whipped out his Smartphone.
I must admit to being startled last December as I was scanning Ralph Nader’s list of his 11 “favorite, frugal, effective” charities in the Huffington Post. Nader is, of course, the famous crusading consumer rights advocate whom many consider ultra-liberal, not to mention secular.
On a donor call early in my career, the sheer power of peer-to-peer fundraising was driven home to me. It’s a lesson I’ve never forgotten.
If you think no one will remember your words next week, let alone next year, think again. In fact, the shelf life of everything you do — what you say and write and how you conduct yourself personally and professionally — is much longer than you may realize. I was recently reminded just how long: Try forty years.
