I am of two minds. An artist, and a fundraising professional. At times, I have found ways for these two minds to become one: being creative at raising money; writing creatively about philanthropy here, there, and everywhere*. The two biggest things that artists and fundraising professionals have in common, as far as my own experience goes, are 1) being rejected and 2) having empathy. Which makes sense, since these two things are pretty much opposites—two sides of the same coin. Balancing the two also makes for a challenging emotional life.
Creativity is one of the greatest gifts humans have. We all have the capacity to create. We cook. We figure things out. We make art. Unfortunately, being a creative in a culture that doesn’t value creativity for its own sake carries with it a lot of rejection—mostly external, which we then make internal. Everywhere you look, the message is: “do something with your talents.” Which actually means monetize it. Make it big. Grow your following. Build a brand. Even (and sometimes especially) if this was never your plan for your art, these constant messages quash your innate creativity. You start to judge yourself, saying things like “why bother no one’s gonna see it,” or “I’ll never be an artist,” or “I’m a failure,” and on and on. These are intensely stressful thoughts that at best, stop you from creating; at worst, they kick-start stress and anxiety at the mere thought of doing something creative.
Being a fundraising professional will always have a component of rejection. The very nature of competitive grantmaking assures that. But beyond that kind of rejection, there really doesn’t need to be more. And yet there is more…so much more. Bullying and harassment. Power struggles. Cruelty. Development professionals get all of that on top of the standard rejection (I have many, many stories). The rejection is external, but happening often enough that we make it internal. “I’m not good at this.” “If the organization folds it’s my fault.” These are intensely stressful thoughts. And after a long career of this (or, even after a little), you carry some trauma with you, so that even if you should find yourself working in a supportive, healthy, and safe environment, it’s tough to keep those old thoughts from resurfacing. It’s why development jobs are hard to fill; development professionals are hard to retain; and why at some point in our careers, we all want out.
At the same time, development professionals are incredibly empathic, highly sensitive humans. So are creatives and artists. It’s what makes artists and fundraisers so susceptible to external stressors and anxiety. And it is also the very thing that makes us good at it. And by “good,” as an artist, I mean allowing our creativity to grow, expand, and feed our minds, our compassion, our self expression, and our ability to connect. And by “good,” as a development professional, I mean using our empathy to listen and empower others to see their own good, and value, in society. No exchange of money needed to be good at either!
The no-win situation is: when you are “good” at these things, the society usually “rewards” you with money. When you are an artist, and you are being “rewarded” with money, the world always wants to con$ume more of your “product.” As a development professional, when you are “rewarded” with the contribution, the organization always wants you to acquire more contributions. Soon enough, the money becomes the focus and… Enter stress and anxiety, which actually inhibits the artist’s and fundraiser’s ability to be “good” at what we do. I told you it was no-win.
But I’m an optimist. Can’t help it. So I started to think about what would help me overcome the no-win conundrum, as both an artist, and a development professional. And outside of a complete re-ordering of our capitalist worldview, a few simple shifts in behavior ought to do it.
Don’t be cruel. Every day we have this choice. And being kind takes practice. It’s so easy when you don’t like something to say, “Nice picture…for a third grader.” Or, “We need more than just $5,000.” Instead, you could say “Wow! When did you find time to write a song? How did you do it!” or, “Great job bringing in that contribution!” These are honest answers that invite connection. Cruelty may seem “honest” but it actually arises out of our own feelings of worry, anxiety, or thinking we’re not good enough. And those are feelings, not facts. No need to put them on someone else.
Don’t say stuff like “You should start a business with your art.” Or, “You should get a meeting with…(Bill Gates or Bill Meanie or whichever wealthy Bill exists)” These kinds of statements are usually well-meaninged, and in response to something “good” the artist or fundraiser has done. Unfortunately, instead of responding to the good thing, they are actually telling someone that what they have just done isn’t enough. Instead say “I think your art is so beautiful” or “I am so impressed by your one-on-one fundraising skills!”
Don’t reject. A big funder, who has a really good heart asked me one day about rejection. How do you get around it? She said. Well, in the world of competitive grantmaking, you don’t get around it. But you can do things a little differently so that your answer becomes No. And… A lot of times when you reject someone who is asking for money, you put all your guilt into the “no” (maybe the guilt is for having money, or for having to say no, or something else entirely). What happens then is that a simple no becomes so much more than just No. Years of putting your guilt into the No takes a toll (on everyone involved). It leads to anger and resentment, and one day you just CANNOT believe why all these people keep asking you for money! Instead of doing that you can 1) be clear and concise in your RFP or open call so potential grantees don’t waste their time (and you don’t waste your time reading tomes instead of applications); 2) trust that the person applying KNOWS they could be rejected. No need for bad energy or any energy behind the answer. A simple yes or no will do; and 3) If you really want to connect, tell people how they could improve the application for next time, or connect them with a different funder more closely aligned, or share with them an idea that came to you when you were reading their application that you think might help, or just thank them for the good work they do (personally, not in a form letter, you can tell the difference).
Do listen. Do appreciate. So your development staff tried everything and still didn’t make budget this year. So your kid wants to carve tiny wood figurines when they grow up. Aren’t they wonderful?
—MBF
*Whenever I reread this piece, which is 15 years old, it just feels more and more relevant.
THANK YOU for your grace, dignity, and beauty, Melissa! :)
Yep, that advice never gets old!