Donors, by and large, live in the same world as the rest of us. A lucky few enjoy financial circumstances that aren’t altered by changing political landscapes, recessions and double-digit unemployment. Most, however, face the same concerns we do as they read and hear endless worrisome news reports, including concerns over economic and government turmoil, dismal market performances, and rapidly waning hopes in the new administration.
It’s easy to acknowledge all this, and as a fundraiser, I’ve thought all along that I’ve been pretty sensitive to the fact that we have donors who are frightened and hurting. I’ve considered my insight into the hearts of our donors to be fairly keen, especially early on in this whole mess. I’ve carried some pride that before it was “vogue,” I was doing some extra things to try to let donors know we were concerned about them and wanted to connect with them in such worrisome times.
But there’s a difference in knowing all this intuitively, and recognizing it on a deeper, more personal level.
Friday, my husband called on the way home from work. I could tell something was wrong by his voice, and so I asked-and just like that, I learned our family income had been cut in half. We’re lucky-some of our friends have experienced worse. But when the recession comes to your home, perspective changes.
The past 2 days have been spent processing, praying, calculating and, I confess, crying a little. A financial planner by trade, my husband has diligently put funds aside. Quick math, calculating COBRA costs and the elimination of non-necessities (include my monthly massage therapy and his high-def sports channels), combined with a reasonable mortgage and modest debt, leave us realizing we have a little cushion, and some time. We’re blessed, and know that others are in tougher places.
But this comes back full-circle, because we’re also donors. We give to our church, support children through a child-sponsorship organization, and give towards the work of several missionaries whom we also consider friends. Do we cut back in any of those areas? I look at the pictures of the kids and people we love on our refrigerator. Kevin and Rhonda journey down similar paths as Bob and I, with our children. Mike and Debby have had a profound impact on our spiritual lives. 3 beautiful children in countries far from here are fed and clothed and attend school, and write to us because of our help. We know their lives. We’re engaged. When the people we connect with hear about what we’re going through, I expect they’ll care. We matter to them, too. So, we’ll cut every other corner we can find before we cut support to these needs. Of course, if it comes down to my daughter’s medicine or giving, reality dictates that we’ll have to make decisions. But for those projects and people I feel connected to, staying in there when it’s hard simply matters.
We’ll figure out how to ride this out, while my husband begins the process of trying to determine how best to utilize his professional designations and licenses. It’s easy to be confident now, while the savings and severance package are intact, but that’s the plan.
No matter what else we experience, this gives me a new perspective into the hearts of donors that I just didn’t have before. As a donor, a fundraiser, as well a new statistic of the recession, I now understand personally why we will continue to give, and why we might not.. As I consider the millions of dollars our organization received this past year from people who were in the thick of things, and hung in with us anyway, I’m humbled, and even convicted that I need to do better in making sure that at a heart level, our donors know how valuable they are to us, and how much we care for them.
In contrast, we also support a couple of organizations that don’t particularly notice me or care about me, which will likely be part of our trimming-back process, in line with reducing a few cable channels. My gifts do little more for them, it seems, than support their continued efforts to send me more appeals. I suspect that when I go away, they will go away, neither of us terribly saddened by the situation.
What a lesson in the power of engagement! I would have loved to have learned this some other way, but there it is.
So, where are you in the process of engagement with your constituents? Have you given lip service to the idea of caring about those who stick with you, even when it’s tough? Or do they matter to you as much as you matter to them? Are they engaged with your ministry, or might they feel as if their disappearance may go unnoticed? Though I thought I knew all this, I learned it all over again this week when the recession came home to our house.
Recent Comments