In mid-July this year, the Community-Centric Fundraising movement was launched. Some people thought it was ridiculous to launch a movement in the middle of a double pandemic — and normally they would be right!
When Community-Centric Fundraising launched in July, we had no concept of what our hub would look like in December 2020. We had no idea we would be so fortunate to have the opportunity to work with such passionate, and intelligent folx — and we didn’t fully understand the kind of talent that exists in our sector.
Here’s an anthology of everything that was published in 2020, organized by theme (and in order of date they were first published).
Over the summer of 2015, I found myself at a crossroads in my career. I was on maternity leave with my daughter and home with my 4-year-old son. It was during this personal transition period that my business, Gladiator Consulting, was born.
I wanted to find a way to infuse my personal commitment to racial justice and equity into my new role as a nonprofit consultant. I knew my point of view and skills could help justice-oriented organizations reach their full potential through fund development. I quickly found my niche working with grassroots and grasstops organizations in the start-up or initial capacity-building phase of their lifecycle.
Fundraiser, tell me, have you smiled today? With so much to accomplish in the final few weeks of the year, I am willing to bet your self-care has gone out the window. For those of us who may feel battered and bruised due to the repeated blows 2020 dealt, the pressure of year-end fundraising can take our exhaustion and stress to new heights. We have volunteers to thank, dollars to raise, and donations to process.
Ho ho holy silent dark night of the soul: On Christian foundations and how they maintain power through wealth distribution
I might as well start this essay about Christian foundations with a confession: I am pretty darn uncomfortable working as a fundraiser at religiously-affiliated nonprofit.
For most of my 20+-year career in nonprofits, I have been a violence-prevention educator, mostly for a private, rural, feminist organization. I spent years facilitating groups and trainings about the dynamics of domestic violence and intersectional oppression in order to prevent interpersonal harm and public bullying.
If you’re hoping for a brighter 2021, we need to have an honest talk about your diversity plan. Spoiler alert — it’s not going as well as you think.
I’m telling you this as a prospect researcher, the person whose professional goal is to make fundraising folx confront reality. Diversity plans are hard, and they should be. But we’re making them impossible.
Have you ever felt disconnected from your board? Maybe over that fall campaign planning? Or the end of year appeals? Or general COVID fundraising practices?
I think we all know the answer already. Yet, as a consultant, sometimes I eagerly await to work for those Nonprofits that have a balanced alignment with their Board. For most of my clients this year, there’s been such a need to deliberately use available research tools to bridge the gap between staff and the board.
By letting go of the belief that I am not valuable to my communities unless I extract every ounce of myself for others’ benefit, I have let go of the compulsion to push myself to the point of physical and psychological collapse. This month, I’ve been watching the sunrise. From my east-facing window, I’ve observed vibrant red and orange fan out from the horizon, lighting clouds from below. I’ve never been an early riser. But something has shifted in me in the past few years.
Can anybody hear me? How white nonprofit writing standards erase BIPOC voices — and why that is definitely not OK
Writing has always been my saving grace. I grew up an introverted only child, and sometimes, I could only communicate through my writing.
My love of writing grew over the years, especially when I went full-force into zine creation in highschool. I loved the fact that I could create, print and distribute my own words, without dilution, to the masses. It became my form of therapy, to salve the scars left behind from very real pre-existing generational trauma to also new trauma.
How would you feel if I told you that Jeff Bezos got his groceries for free from a food bank?
If he did, it would probably shock and anger you, right? These feelings come up because we as a society assume that nonprofits exist to support those who are unable to access the services they need, and in our country, one of the biggest barriers to access is wealth.
I have been working to raise funds for nonprofits for almost twelve years. The majority of that time has been spent raising money for public schools in New Orleans, Louisiana. I’ve bounced around to several organizations over the years, never spending more than three years at any one place because I couldn’t put up with staying longer than that.
My parents immigrated to the United States from India in the 1970s and chose to purchase their first home in a suburban municipality west of St. Louis, Missouri. To both the south and west of our subdivision were mostly white communities — to the north and east, mostly Black and immigrant Asian and Pacific Islander communities. If you’ve learned anything about St. Louis in the six years since Mike Brown’s murder, you are familiar with the deep segregation of our region and its toxic, implicit commitment to the Black-white binary.