Folly #95: Movements
The math says we can do this.
As often happens, serendipity has delivered some thoughtful context for what’s going on around us. For me, a number of conversations and practical words of wisdom left me feeling optimistic, and I thought that others might need a ray of hope.
(If last week’s thoughts on donor events seemed a little blah, this week I’m spicing it up a bit. Share a comment to let me know which you like better.)
We Are a Movement
I recently read an excellent article by the BBC on movement-making research: it takes 3.5% engagement for success. Given that nonprofit staff represent 10% of the U.S. labor market – not to mention the millions of volunteers who serve in board and hands-on roles – this feels completely doable.
Nonviolent protests … engaging a threshold of 3.5% of the population have never failed to bring about change.
We have strength in numbers. And funders have strength in numbers and dollars.
Seeing Ourselves in the Movement
Another conversation was with a neighbor about the power of positive message making. Specifically, he shared the Right to Marry movement and how people of all identities saw themselves in this message. (Here’s a great interview with an activist that touches on our many cultural connections to marriage, and a brief history of the movement.) That movement brought us together by focusing on what unites us, rather than our differences.
There’s power in a slogan that unites.
If we changed MAGA to “Futures for Our Kids” could we align around a common concern that the next generation has less access to living wage jobs and affordable housing?
Added bonus: the acronym is FOK! (A nod to my favorite swear word.) To be clear, I do not respect the fear and hatred behind actions MAGA incites.* But in our work to be inclusive, we often dilute messaging to a point where it’s difficult to succinctly describe, well, our point.
Turning Fear into a Movement
As you can imagine, I’ve had many conversations with colleagues about what’s happening with federal funding. There is a lot of fear in the nonprofit sector.
Approved grants are being rescinded. One of my clients just had NEH and West Virginia Humanities funding canceled in the middle of the project – they record interviews like the one above and, in this case, had already incurred the expense to discover and meet with isolated, rural elders.
Grants being a difficult, unreliable source of funding is what inspired the Follies. And it’s gotten worse.
In a recent professional roundtable where nonprofit fundraisers share challenges and best practices, there was palpable despair. Another colleague spoke about their allied national organization scraping mission-critical language around equity and access. (This one really hurts – changing program or mission to chase funding is generally Rule #1 of what not to do in fundraising.)
Another was a podcast from my esteemed colleague Glen Galaich called Break Fake Rules, and their recent episode on navigating our fractured media landscape. That speaker honored the very real fear of vindictive repercussions like we’ve never before seen in this country. She also offered hopeful, practical advice.
Stand up and refuse to cede power until absolutely necessary – and celebrate and support others who are lifting their voices and standing strong.
So how do we turn fear into a movement?
Focus messaging on the impact on your community, not your nonprofit.
Contact your donors and tell them how you’re responding in a way that sustains the long-term mission of your work.
Communicate in lots of ways and to lots of people – board, clients, funders, community. This is what fundraisers do. One brave email won’t cut it.
Seek points of connection, rather than emphasizing what divides us. As humans, we have volumes of shared interests.
Creating a Plan B always makes sense, but implementing major changes in your program in anticipation of the worst doesn’t.
*On a personal note, my mom fled Germany with her parents in 1940 wearing the Star of David on her clothing. They got their visas a few days before the American Embassy closed, and were lucky as heck to get out and make it to New York. It left me with a desire to try to understand that kind of hatred about who someone is. And these past years I see too many similarities. Time for me to speak up, too.
As I approach Folly #100, I would really, really love to get to 1,000 subscribers.
Won’t you …
… Funder Follies with two friends?