I attended a Spanish conversation class at my local library this week. The facilitator shared some ways that Mother’s Day is celebrated among Spanish-speaking countries — some always on May 10 (which happens to be my mom’s birthday), some on a certain Sunday. She also asked us:
What is a special memory of your mother? Or what is a value that she taught you?
It got me to thinking.
Mom #1
I grew up with a mother who was nothing like me. She was a red head; I was blonde. She was tall; I was petite. She had loud clothes and bright shoes and big jewelry; I wanted to blend in.
I spent a lot of time rolling my eyes.
I really, really wanted to include an image from my favorite card store – Two Neat – of a card they had for years. Picture a stick figure mom saying Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady, as a crouching stick figure girl rolls her eyeballs like marbles. Alas, they did not have the card when I stopped by this week.
Of course, I planned to be nothing like her because she was so embarrassing! As she used to say, Make a plan and god laughs.
As I’ve aged, I’ve become a lot like Mom #1.
I’ve written about her here and here. She was a larger-than-life woman. Told as a teenager, If you had to be a girl, you could at least have had nice legs, her self-esteem was shattered. Instead, she made herself the life of the party. (One year she brought a turkey to someone’s Christmas Eve gathering. It was not a pot luck.)
She taught me generosity. And never to judge someone because of where they lived or worked or grew up.
In her 60s, she went to law school. So she also taught me that you’re never too old to reinvent yourself. Or try something new. She lived growth mindset.
Did I mention that her first case out of law school was a small role on the OJ Simpson defense? She was on TV. Like I said, larger than life. In every way.
Mom #2
I met the mom who gave birth to me after the one who raised me died. It would have broken her heart if I’d done it sooner.
This mom spent her career representing — as an advocate for women in the corporate sector, and then as a professor to non-traditional PhD students. She is a wise woman, one who will always ask, Do you want me to share some thoughts or do you just want me to listen? (As a parent, I’m still aspiring to ask this.)
She has shown me strength and taught me patience. Her friends say we have the same gestures. We seem to think alike.
This mom and I share a belief that women are amazing. And I’d like to think that we’re both feminine and fierce.
So where’s the Folly?
It’s in the stories we tell ourselves about fundraising.
I was talking to a board member of a nonprofit I know. Another strong woman, she is revered in the community and knows everyone.
And yet she tells me that she can’t ask for money.
I often hear this from very capable individuals. I’ll help with anything so long as I don’t have to ask for money.
So let me get this right. Only foundation staff who implement convoluted, impersonal grant application processes can ask for money? That is the antithesis of a relationship.
In celebration of Mother’s Day let’s acknowledge that women drive most philanthropic decisions. (Anecdotally, I’ve worked with a lot more women fundraising staff and board members.) So let’s end the imposter syndrome around fundraising. We’re natural relationship-builders, and that’s what fundraising is.
Have a conversation.
Ask someone what they care about.
Be a good listener.
Tell a story. (Describe a nonprofit’s impact, including what it costs.)
If you do that well, you don’t really have to ask. People will step up into your vision and surprise you with their generosity.
Regardless of gender or kids, we all “mother” at times. Lucky us! That kind of caring is the best part of building relationships — with donors, families or friends.
I hope you spend Mother’s Day celebrating someone you love. And yourself.
Only four more issues until Folly #100 and you can help us get to 1,000 subscribers. Won’t you forward Funder Follies to two friends?
I, too, have become my mother — in exactly the ways (talking to strangers, blurting things out, a love of excessive collections) that used to mortify me. I think now that they were some of the best parts of her and are now the best parts of me. Lovely post!