Do the Word

“Have they fruit?” Mr. Wesley asked of his would-be preachers. Could those who were seeking ordination show anything for their service? Was there at least one person who had found faith through the word they proclaimed? A single person whose spiritual practices had been enlivened by what they taught? A hungry person who found bread? A homeless person who found shelter? Was there any sign that the ministry exercised by this person was waking the world to the dream of God?

Make sure to check out the rest of Nathan Kirkpatrick’s powerful piece at Faith & Leadership.

After you do, please take his question one step further.

Writes Kirkpatrick:

Imagine the discussion that would ensue at the next administrative board or church council meeting if the question were asked, “Havewe fruit?” Imagine the conversation if the topic at the meeting became, “What evidence is there? What can we point to that demonstrates that the community in which we live is better, healthier and more faithful because of the presence of our church? Are our ministries making any kind of difference to our neighbors? Is the Spirit, through us, actually changing lives, deepening faith, seeding hope in this neighborhood? Or are we just taking up space on a corner in town, an antiquated placeholder on this block?” I imagine a lively scene as a congregation deliberates and discusses its missional role in its own context, all the while answering the question, “Have we fruit?”

My experience has been that most nonprofits are increasingly adept at asking the question of themselves, if not answering it.

But it is an exceedingly rare nonprofit that asks this question related to its donors.

On the one hand, there is perhaps no more measured “fruit” in nonprofitdom than metrics related to giving.

But what about metrics related to our donors’ understanding of the cause and their ability to act upon it knowledgeably and comprehensively, both through us and on their own?

The paradigmatic example of doing this well remains Atul Tandon, who led World Vision to ask and answer this question–and who thus demonstrated, as World Vision exploded with growth during his tenure, that asking about and measuring more than money is what yields a bumper financial crop:

We perform donor surveys once a year on key questions: Are you more aware of the poor? Is your time with World Vision enabling you to serve the poor better? Is your walk with Jesus Christ changing because of your walk with the poor? The critical question is, Have you changed the way you spend your money and your time? In 2003, 59 percent of our donors said they had changed the way they thought about and spent money and time. Today, that number is up to 76 percent. God has been faithful.

Sadly, as Tom from the Agitator notes today in quoting a piece by Tom Ahern, few of us are even surveying our donors, let alone thinking about measuring any kind of donor fruit other than dollars:

Tom talks about a recent fundraising conference where 150 attendees were asked if they conducted donor satisfaction surveys. Tom says not a hand went up. He goes on to discuss how lousy nonprofits are at holding on to donors.

So I like Nathan Kirkpatrick’s idea for a “lively scene”, and yet I want to propose something more, though I suspect it will initially draw blank stares from your board more than animated chatter. But let us persevere in this line of questioning, if only at first because Atul Tandon has demonstrated its efficacy:

Have our donors fruit?

In 1998, a Robert Redford movie introduced the term “horse whisperer” into common parlance.

In 2010, we are well past due for introducing the term “donor whisperer” into not only our fundraising vocabulary but our practice as well.

First, a quick turn to Wikipedia to get our term on the table:

A horse whisperer is a horse trainer who adopts a sympathetic view of the motives, needs, and desires of the horse, based on natural horsemanship and modern equine psychology. The term goes back to the early nineteenth century when an Irish horseman, Daniel Sullivan, made a name for himself in England by rehabilitating horses that had become vicious and intractable due to abuse or accidental trauma.

Sullivan kept his methods secret, but people who managed to observe him noticed that he would stand face to face with the troubled horse. They seemed to think that he must be saying something to the horse in a way the horse could understand and accept because the horses were quickly gentled by his mysterious techniques.

No less mysterious today: A development officer who adopts a genuinely sympathetic view of the motives, needs, and desires of the donor.

Lesson one for aspiring donor whisperers:

Listen more than you talk.

Gail Perry’s Guidestar piece on increasing donations by 39% by calling (or, better yet, notes Gail, having board members call) to thank donors is a great post. But the best part of the post comes midway down the text and will be missed by many readers:

If your board members are adventurous, they can ask the donor why he/she chose to make this gift. They can pull out the donor’s story—and the donor will be even more pleased and honored.

For tips on effective listening, check out Simon Sinek’s recent post on the subject:

At its most effective level, however, listening goes far beyond simply paying attention. Becoming a “good listener” is a skill that requires practice. At this level, listening means trying to find meaning in what you hear. It is not simply about concentrating on what is being said to you; it is the active pursuit of understanding.

Trying to find meaning in what you hear–that’s a profound command for those of us working with donors. Sinek suggests that one of the best practices in enabling us to find meaning in what we hear is asking specific questions:

Don’t simply ask, “What do you mean by that?” after every statement someone makes. That’s frustrating for the person talking to you and it still relies on them to find the right words. Ask questions specific to the things they say. For example, if someone says, “I want to be a doctor,” instead of asking why they want to be a doctor, ask them what kind of doctor they want to be. When they answer, ask them what it is about that specialty that interests them. Very quickly you will get a much clearer picture of the kind of person this is and what their strengths are just from listening closely and asking pointed questions.

I like to do role playing with executive directors and development directors. One of my favorite role plays is “Call the donor”. I play the donor, and the ED or DD places the call. Since they’ve previously received coaching from me on asking questions to donors, they try to put that into practice right away. Challenge is, when I-as-donor respond, no matter what I say, the ED/DD will usually respond by saying, “Great, great. That’s great.”

Why does this happen?

Nerves, likely. Lack of practice is undoubtedly part of it.

But I think an even more likely explanation is that we lack a deep and abiding curiosity in our donors. We aren’t prepared to encounter them as fascinating people who are on a journey to make meaning, working out certain things in their life as they seek to make a difference in and for themselves, the world, God, their families, and those they meet.

If we felt that way, we’d ask questions quite naturally. And we’d listen intently to what our donors say in reply.

This is why nearly as long as I’ve been in fundraising, I’ve chosen not to start a thank you call by saying thank you. Instead, I say, “Hi, Mrs. Jones. Eric Foley at Seoul USA. Just wanted to let you know we got the check you sent in the mail. And I had to ask: What were you thinking???”

Seriously. That’s exactly what I do. This causes the person to laugh nervously at first, but I’ve never had anyone hang up or be offended.

I have, however, had nearly two decades and counting of fascinating conversations with donors as a result.

When do your donors feel most fully alive in relation to the cause about which you are both so passionate?

Odds on we nonprofit leaders are deluding ourselves if we think donors would ever actually say any of the following in their answer to that question:

• “As a donor, I feel most fully alive in relation to the cause when I receive the annual calendar from the nonprofit I support. No, it’s when I receive their address labels. Oh, it’s a toss-up; they both jazz me greatly.”
• “As a donor, I feel most fully alive in relation to the cause when I receive a report detailing the impact that the nonprofit I support is having. I’m so excited that my money is really making a difference.”
• “As a donor, I feel most fully alive in relation to the cause when my nonprofit tells me what a huge impact I am having by supporting them.”

I love Care 2’s Jocelyn Harmon‘s comment about her grandmother on her recent blog post on passion and nonprofits:

Before my grandmother died, she told me that the time that she felt most alive in her life was during the Civil Rights Movement.  I was surprised by this statement.  After all, she had four amazing daughters and five amazing grandchildren in her lifetime (including me!).  Yet, it was helping to end American Apartheid that moved her to the core.  That ignited her passion.

My grandmother was an amazing woman but her longings and desire to connect to something bigger than herself are quite ordinary.

It would be great to hear from Jocelyn exactly how her grandmother was involved in the Civil Rights Movement. Something tells me that she was doing more than sending in checks in response to fundraising appeals. As Jocelyn quickly notes in her post, donors are not a different species from nonprofit leaders; after all, both want to make history:

Look around and you will see this desire expressed in many ways.  Some people attend churches or mosques or temples.  Others take drugs.  All you have to do is witness our cultural obsession withAmerican Idol to understand our collective longing to “touch the stars” and experience largess.

As nonprofit leaders and movement builders we have an amazing privilege and opportunity to help people connect to this powerful, yet basic human desire.  We can be that vehicle for our volunteers, donors, employees, board members and clients to connect to greatness.  We can help them “make history.”

[Editor’s note: That’s the second post in a row where we’ve heard the nonprofit referred to positively as a vehicle for its constituents. Would that this portends a trend.]

I wholeheartedly endorse Jocelyn’s admonition that time spent helping our constituents to make history using us as the platform is time well spent–a far better expenditure than merely time spent on running operations well for the nonprofit (which these days is really just the price of entry):

The problem is we can’t do this if we spend all of our time focused on the minutiae of running our organizations.  While budgets must be managed, programs must be evaluated, and people must be hired and fired, we must also set aside time for the organization and it’s constituents to DREAM.

When do you induce dreaming in your constituents?

• At your fundraising banquet are you casting a vision for them as cause-drivers…or as supporters for your vision?
• In your fundraising letters are you urging them to dream big about the impact they can make…or are you urging them simply to write a big check?
• In your personal interactions with them, how much of your time is spent discussing their impact on the cause…not just your own?

In The Last Station, the new movie on the life of Leo Tolstoy, there is a fantastic scene where Tolstoy–then the most celebrated writer on the planet–greets his new secretary, Valentin, brushing aside Valentin’s questions and instead asking, “Now, tell me how your work is coming along.” Valentin, a young man of 23, is fairly well dumbstruck not only to be in the presence of such greatness but to have such greatness asking him questions about his work and wellbeing. Tolstoy misinterprets Valentin’s tearful silence as a sign that he has done something to disturb his new secretary, but Valentin quickly corrects him. “It’s just that you are Leo Tolstoy,” he says, “and I am no one, and yet you are asking me about my work.”

Why does that never happen in a donor meeting?