fundraising – Page 2

How Are You at Handling Criticism?

How are you at handling criticism?

I’m not very good at it, honestly. I know, I know, we’re supposed to welcome “constructive criticism.” But even the so-called “constructive” kind is still criticism, and for those like me cursed with strong ego and thin skin (relatively speaking) criticism stings. In my online dictionary the first definition of “to criticize” is to express disapproval — the second is to give a considered opinion. When I am on the receiving end I tend to confuse the two.

Nevertheless, I know that receiving criticism well is a mark of maturity. In the best sense of the word, the one who criticizes me is not trying to hurt my feelings — quite the opposite. He/she is trying to point out something I need to see in order to be more effective. The well-meaning critic is (hopefully) following the Biblical admonition to tell the truth in love. So how do I learn to set aside my reflexive defensiveness and take criticism well?

The first thing I need to do when someone criticizes me is indeed to check my defenses. As I said, my defensive reaction is a reflex, a learned response to a perceived attack. When I am on the defensive I am generally at my worst, prone to put up my dukes, lash back, and say things I should not say, using accusatory or retaliatory words which can quickly turn a productive dialogue into a raging conflict. Maturity demands that we learn to check those defensive impulses the moment they arise! I’m better at this now than I used to be, but still working on it.

So when I’ve decided to respond in a calm and mature fashion — more or less — I can move on to the next two things: consider the source and consider the motive. Is the criticism coming from someone I trust? Is it coming from someone in authority? Is it coming from someone who reports to me? Is it coming from someone who knows me well? Does my critic understand the situation? Deciding if the critic is credible is fairly easy, but evaluating the critic’s motive becomes tricky: I have to consider carefully whether the critic has an agenda of his or her own. For example, I may be pushing forward with a new initiative, only to encounter critics of change who have a vested interest in the status quo. Do I dismiss them, or do I decide that their concerns are valid and I need to pay careful attention? The motive of the critic is a huge factor in determining how much credence we give them.

That’s why, when handling criticism, I need to remind myself to seek the truth. Seldom does criticism come to us without at least some shred of truth. Do I have the maturity (there’s that word again) to sift through what may be harsh words and find the gem of honest evaluation that I need to take to heart?

Sometimes the final step, and the hardest, may actually be to thank the critic. This isn’t always possible, and it may not always be appropriate, but most of the time I think it’s an important step toward closure. Proverbs 15:1 brings timeless advice when it says, “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” When I am criticized, can I be the one who listens and responds with grace and humility? Can I thank the one who criticizes me?

Like I said, I’m working on it. How about you?

Whatever You Do, Don’t Bore Me!

We talked about this last time: if you’re in sales or fundraising, sometimes you may find yourself dealing with a highly Analytic donor or client. You try to establish rapport using warmth and — pardon the expression — schmooze, but it just doesn’t work. These prospects insist on data and proof, which can make it challenging for us highly Relational types to build a connection using our usual approach. When dealing with Analytic people you had better have your empirical information close at hand! Credibility only comes when they believe in your competence.

But there’s another type of prospect for whom the exact opposite approach seems best. These are the strong-willed, impatient, even impulsive types, sometimes called Drivers (although that’s not a perfect description). Drivers make decisions quickly. They march to their own drummer. They are absolutely not afraid to skip steps, start in the middle, and cut you off halfway through your presentation. And in my experience, the absolute worst thing you can do when dealing with a Driver is to make him or her feel bored.

I’m that way. I remember having an insurance guy make a presentation to me — this was back in the day of the flip chart desk-top presentation using a special notebook (the paper kind) with charts and graphs in plastic sleeves. When he opened this thing up and I saw about 40 of these pages my heart sank! Are you telling me I have to sit through forty of your flipping charts (double entendre intended)?!! I was bored before we even got started! And, no, he didn’t get the order.

Now if I had been the Analytic type, which I suspect he was, I would have devoured those 40 charts. I might even have wished for more. I might have asked for my own hard copy so I could study them on my own. But the salesman never stopped to figure out that I was a Driver who abhorred the thought of sitting through a protracted presentation. If he had done something very simple at the outset it would have set my mind at ease: he could simply have said, “Don’t worry, we’re not going through all of these — I’m just going to show you the ones that are of interest to you.” I would have breathed more easily and actually paid attention. And he might have sold me a policy.

So there’s two equal and opposite approaches to the sales presentation. For the Driver, be brief and to the point, and don’t bore me — but have the information ready in case I ask for it. You can keep it light, keep it moving, and be direct, and it’s okay to ask me for a decision because I may already have made it before your presentation is even finished. For the Analytic, be thorough and businesslike, take your time, and don’t schmooze me. Build trust by presenting me with facts, and don’t expect a speedy decision, because you’re not going to get one.

For those of us in sales and fundraising, different learning styles really do keep things interesting!

When “Trust Me” Isn’t Enough

I might have mentioned this before, but from time to time (like most of you) I’ll get these flashes of insight — my so-called epiphanies. Unfortunately when I get one I tend to run excitedly to tell someone about my latest burst of brilliance — and when I do they’ll often look at me dumbfounded and say, “Well, duh — you mean you only just figured that out?!” I seem to have a flair for rediscovering the obvious.

For that reason I have come to refer to these insightful bursts as my WDE’s — my “Well, Duh” Epiphanies. Some years ago I had a WDE which went like this: I suddenly realized that not everyone thinks like me.

I’m told that I am a highly relational person, reasonably intuitive, and quick to establish rapport. I tend to trust people quickly and I feel people tend to trust me equally quickly. And when I was newer in sales I was convinced I could connect with just about anyone. So it came as a shock when I began running across prospects with whom I seemed to lack any ability to get to relational first base. I could not for the life of me establish rapport with these individuals at all — and usually the harder I tried (using my arsenal of winsome relational techniques) the worse it became. More than once I walked away with my ego severely bruised. My vaunted relational skills had apparently failed me, and I was baffled and frustrated!

Then I began to discover that not everybody takes in information and processes it like I do. This discovery of Learning Styles (thank you to author, speaker and friend Cynthia Tobias — www.applest.com) was a revelation. Turns out the people I was having the hardest time with are the Analytics, those men and women for whom proof is everything — and proof means data. In approaching these prospects I was placing all the emphasis on my so-called interpersonal skills, trying to get these tough clients to believe me because they trusted me and to trust me because they liked me. What I had failed to realize was that Analytics only trust you if they think you know what you’re talking about. You have to prove your credibility with facts. You earn their trust through competence and knowledge — not with your winsome smile and your engaging manner. And if they ask for the data to back up your claims, you had better have those data readily at hand. The same spreadsheets and reports that make a Relational person’s eyes glaze over are bread and butter to the Analytic. They’re essential.

In time I learned (the hard way) to temper my approach with the prospects I came to recognize as Analytic. I learned to have the data handy in my briefcase so I could prove my point with facts. I learned not to behave in ways my Analytic clients believed to be untrustworthy but to back off and to be uncharacteristically businesslike and subdued — hardly my natural bent. And I started having some success with the very type of client that had formerly frustrated me so.

We’ll talk more about Learning Styles later. For now, if you’re in sales or fundraising and you’re having a hard time building trust with certain prospective clients or donors, maybe the approach you’re taking — even though it makes perfect sense to you! — is somehow undermining their trust in you, and not building it up. Here’s a handy “Well, Duh” Epiphany: when it comes to establishing interpersonal connections, we’re not all the same!

Are You Staring At Your Ski Tips?

I used to ski — snow ski, that is. I learned the basics of good old downhill skiing in 9th grade on the mushy slopes of Snoqualmie Summit, riding the ski bus once a week from the Washington Athletic Club. Back in those days (DANGER: NOSTALGIA ALERT!) we used to have to start tying our ski boots at about North Bend because it took so long. Yes, I said “tying.” Boots came with laces: only experienced, moneyed skiers had boots with buckles. Our skis had cable bindings, too, for that matter…but I digress.

Yes, I used to ski, and although I stopped skiing decades ago there is one lesson that our instructor (I think his name was Thor) kept drumming into us: don’t focus on the tips of your skis! As beginners that’s precisely what we tended to do. We would traverse the slope as far as we good, then make a clumsy, panicky turn and traverse back the other direction, all the while with our eyes riveted to the tips of our skis, as if that would somehow keep us vertical. As we started to gain a bit of momentum, still staring at those ski tips, we would invariably run smack into the side of a mogul and go tumbling, often popping our cable bindings in the process.

So Thor kept reminding us: don’t stare at the tips of your skis! Instead focus your attention down the slope. Not only does it help you point your weight in the right direction — it also helps you see those moguls coming up well ahead of time, so you can actually maneuver to avoid them. This was a revelation! Not only could we anticipate obstacles, we could — amazing, but true! — keep from running into them! By staring fixedly and fearfully at our ski tips we only ensured that, by the time we saw the mogul, we were milliseconds from running into it — too late to react. Looking down the slope felt counterintuitive at first, but it proved to be essential to generating any sort of rhythm on the way down the mountain. Once I had the nerve to try it, prying my eyes from those ski tips and gazing at the slope ahead, I finally started learning how to ski. (Not great, you understand, but much, much better.)

The metaphor for us seems clear. If we try to plow through our day staring at the tips of our proverbial skis, then all we ever seem to do is to react. The obstacle (a task, a deadline, a project, a problem) looms suddenly before us, completely unexpected, and our response is clumsy, awkward, unfruitful, maybe even disastrous. But as we start to lift our eyes and learn to gaze ahead down the slope, we begin to see those hazards coming. We become proactive — we anticipate. And as a result, we handle the problems better. We develop some satisfying rhythm, even some grace. And we don’t fall down quite so much!

Does every problem seem to knock you down, sprawling in the snow? Maybe you need to listen to Thor: “Stop looking at the tips of your skis!”

Efficiency ≠ Effectiveness!

I spent quite a lot of my career in radio advertising. It used to be true, and I presume it still is, that the chief means an advertiser uses to determine how much he or she is willing to pay for radio time is a tool called “Cost Efficiency.” The precise metrics and parameters may change but the concept remains the same: the buyer sets a Cost Efficiency goal which is 100% based on audience ratings — answering the basic question, “How much am I willing to pay to reach this audience?” Radio stations then compete to meet that goal: either you’re sufficiently Cost Efficient and you make the buy, or you’re not and you don’t. No hard feelings. The numbers don’t lie.

Well…they may not lie, but they do exaggerate.

Cost Efficiency only works, in my experience, for three reasons. First, it’s fairly easy to teach someone to put together a buy using some pre-determined Cost Efficiency goal as the standard. Second, a Cost Efficiency goal at least creates a level playing field, evaluating all contestants using a common standard — the device may be flawed but it’s consistent. And third, I suspect most advertisers don’t really know if their advertising actually works or not. J.C. Penney once made the famous statement, “I know that half my advertising dollars are wasted — I just don’t know which half.” People thought he was kidding, but I’m convinced he meant it. Drawing a straight line between your advertising and your cash register is a tricky business!

In other words, an advertising buy may look good on paper — it’s highly Cost Efficient — but it may not accomplish the advertiser’s goal very well at all. It’s not very Cost Effective.

I think there’s an underlying mistake we tend to make frequently in our culture — we confuse efficiency with effectiveness. The two ideas are far from synonymous. In your workplace, if you’re a manager, you may be tempted to make decisions based entirely on efficiency only to discover that what looked good on paper actually results in frustration, fatigue and burnout. Your plans aren’t effective at all! If you’re a parent, you may think scheduling your family time “efficiently” is the highest goal, only to experience a growing emotional disconnect between you and your kids, or you and your spouse. Important concepts like friendship, love, teamwork and commitment simply can’t be done “efficiently.” The process of cultivating the things that are most important in life — our relationships — is inherently messy, ragged and inefficient. (Speaking of messy, is there an “efficient” way to raise kids, for example?) You could almost say, when it comes to relationships, that Efficiency is frequently the enemy of Effectiveness.

Sometimes as fundraisers or salespeople we have a choice: we can focus on what’s Efficient or we can emphasize what’s Effective. It’s efficient to send out the same letter to 500 recipients — it’s effective to hand-write 20 personal notes. It’s efficient to send 300 eblasts — it’s effective to make a dozen personal phone calls. Each can be important, and at times those ideas of efficiency and effectiveness can mesh nicely — but at those times where they don’t, I suggest that it’s better to be effective than efficient. What do you think?

Someday I’ll Stop Procrastinating

“I was going to stop procrastinating,” the old line goes, “but I kept putting it off.”

True Confession Time: lately I feel as though I’ve been plagued with a mild bout of procrastination. I’m not sure why, but for the past few weeks I’ve been more aware of it every time I review my To Do’s. That pesky phone call doesn’t get made. That proposal sits half-written. Those appointments are stuck on the “To Be Scheduled” list. I wonder why that is — why do I make lists and then put off the execution phase? Why do I procrastinate?

Since reflection is a great aid to procrastination (self-absorption takes time, after all), I’ve been reflecting on this situation and have come up with at least three reasons why I put things off.

The first procrastination trigger is Fear. You’d think after many years in sales and fundraising that call reluctance would be a thing of the past, but it still rears its head from time to time. Fear is grounded in self-doubt. Will I say the right thing? Will I ask the right questions? Will the prospect be in a good mood? Will I get the donation, the order, the appointment, the commitment? The fear is completely irrational, of course, but too often it’s there, lurking just beneath the veneer of confidence and self-assurance.

Complacency is probably the second reason why I procrastinate. Fundraising always has a sense of urgency — make the ask, make the month, make the quarter, plan the event — so maybe with that much background noise the tendency is to tune it out once in a while and allow myself to settle into a warm fog of complacency. So what if it doesn’t get done today? Well…it might not matter that much, unless those delayed tasks start piling up, which they inevitably tend to do. The effects of procrastination tend to be cumulative, after all!

Then there’s Distraction. Being a relational person, working around people I enjoy, I can sometimes be drawn away from the Important Task into something that’s frankly more fun! As much as I appreciate being a random “people guy,” I do admire those sequential types who successfully maintain a single-minded focus on the task at hand — they seem to be immune to the kinds of distractions that draw my attention away from what I should be doing. (Maybe I should ask my brother in law to stop sending me those YouTube links…)

Are you one of those admirably focused types? Or do Fear, Complacency or Distraction cause you to procrastinate? As for me, one of these days I plan to put a stop to it! Meanwhile, there’s a fresh pot of coffee across the hall…I’ll get back to you.

Optimists and Pessimists and Realists

I’m an unapologetic Optimist. I once took one of those personality tests at work and practically scored off the chart for optimism. The fact that my boss at the time didn’t share my affinity for the Best Possible Scenario did eventually hamper our reporting relationship…but nevertheless I remained (and remain) firmly in the Polyanna camp.

I find that most Optimists don’t mind being called “Optimists.” Not so with most Pessimists — and you know who you are. You, it seems, seem to prefer to be called “Realists.” But we Optimists know better and tend to think you so-called Realists are actually Pessimists in disguise. Oh, you’ll listen to the starry-eyed predictions of us Optimists, then shake your head in a patronizing way…and, after you’ve given us your Eeyore-like assessment explaining why our idea can’t possibly work, you’ll say, “I’m just being realistic.” I suspect many people who call themselves Realists are really Pessimists who simply refuse to own the label.

On the other hand, most of you Pessimists-in-Realists’-Clothing are no doubt convinced that we Optimists live in a dream world, conveniently divorced from reality. We orbit the ground in our Cloud of Positive Outcomes while pretending that the inexorable force of gravity that will soon bring our illusions crashing to earth doesn’t really exist. Sadly, I have to admit that you’re frequently correct. Optimism can indeed be a force to be reckoned with, but sooner or later that so-called irresistible force might crash against the immoveable object of inconvenient truth, and when that happens truth typically wins.

News flash: your workplace, your team, your family is made up of individuals all along the Good News/Bad News Optimism/Pessimism spectrum. So how can we work together to maximum advantage? First, a word to you Optimists: listen carefully to the Pessimists/Realists in your life. Are they speaking truth to you? If so, it might be time to lay aside our knee-jerk reaction and make a sober assessment of the situation. I call this the Grounded Optimist, and it’s what I strive to be. Keep the energy of the Optimist but don’t ignore the facts on the ground!

And you Pessimists? Maybe it’s time for you to experience some of the energy and enthusiasm of the Optimists in your life. Before grabbing the bucket to pour cold water on the flickering flame of an idea, see if there’s something there you can support. Will there be time later to inject a note of cautionary reason into the conversation? Probably — so be patient. Meanwhile don’t be quite so quick to roll your eyes and dismiss the “unrealistic” new idea. I suppose we could call this person the Tempered Pessimist — the person with a healthy sense of the obstacles, tempered by the belief that this new idea just possibly could work.

Optimist, Pessimist, or Realist — where are you? Our workplace, team or family needs everybody, no matter where on the spectrum you place yourself!

While You Wait

Waiting. We all have to do it. Most of us don’t like it — after all, we’re an impatient species by nature. (I once read an article that showed using hidden cameras how people waiting for an elevator become physically agitated after about 20 seconds of delay. Sounds embarrassingly familiar: “Maybe if I just hit the ‘Up’ button a few more dozen times the #$&@* thing will get here today sometime!”)

Fundraisers and salespeople are particularly bad at waiting — but since it’s a fact of our professional lives, the question comes up, “What should we be doing while we wait?” Today I learned a great answer from an unlikely source: the Old Testament book of Nehemiah.

Short version: Nehemiah was one of the captive Jews living in the city of Susa in what’s now Iran, back in the 5th century BC. Years earlier, some of the captives had been permitted to return to Jerusalem, which had been sacked by invading armies, and these Jews had sent word back to Nehemiah that the place was a wreck — especially the walls and the gates, which had been torn down and burned. Nehemiah was desolate at the news that his beloved city was in such disastrous and vulnerable shape, and he vowed to ask King Artaxerxes if he could go to Jerusalem (an 800 mile journey) to do something about it. Old Nehemiah was cupbearer to the King, which gave him personal access — but still, asking a favor like that was extremely risky. The timing had to be right — tick off the King and your life would be really short.

So Nehemiah did two things. First, he prayed for favor with the King. Second, while he waited he made plans. It took four long months before he finally got to ask Artaxerxes for permission — and amazingly, the King sounded favorably disposed. “How long will you be gone?” he asked. Nehemiah’s reply, recorded in Nehemiah 2:6, was simple: “I gave him a definite time.” He didn’t hem and haw — he knew precisely what he would say when the time came.

You see, while he waited four long months, Nehemiah had made his plans. He had figured out how long the project would take. The chapter goes on to show that he had even thought of the materials he would need and the special permits that would be required to get them. He didn’t wait passively — he waited expectantly. While he waited, Nehemiah worked.

The lesson for me is simple. What should I be doing while I wait? I should be planning and preparing so that, when the light finally does turn green, I’m ready to go with no delay. That way “waiting time” is productive time. A “timely” reminder from an ancient source!

“I Almost Got Him to a ‘Maybe.'”

Some years ago a friend of mine was sales manager for a radio station back east. One day one of his newer sales reps came back to the office all excited.

“How did the call go?” my friend asked.

“Great! Just great!” replied the young rep enthusiastically. “I made the presentation and played the spec tape and he really liked it.”

“Well,” said my friend, “did you ask for the order?”

“Yep,” replied the sales rep, beaming proudly. “And I almost got him to a ‘Maybe.'”

Having been in both sales and fundraising I can understand the young man’s excitement. To the untrained ear, “maybe” sounds so much better than “no.” And since he was a rookie sales rep his naivete can be forgiven. However (and I’m saying this to myself) one of the characteristics of a strong salesperson or a strong fundraiser is thick-skinned self-appraisal coupled with clear-eyed realism. If you ask for the order, or for the donation, and the best you can say is “I almost got him to a ‘Maybe,'” I’m afraid you’re farther from success with that prospect than you think!

My friend the sales manager gently but firmly informed his eager young protege that an “almost maybe” is a long, long way from “yes.” And I’m sure the sales rep’s enthusiasm dimmed somewhat. But he learned what all of us in sales and fundraising have had to learn: that while “yes” is best, a clear-cut “no” is typically preferable to a wishy-washy “maybe.” After all, when the prospect is completely non-committal, what’s the next step? You don’t have one.

So like we said a few posts ago, always close for something — even if the answer is “no.”

Celebrate!

Our fundraising team just finished a terrific calendar year-end. For you in the business you grasp the significance of what I’m talking about. For you non-fundraisers it’s hard to overstate the importance of December. It is often pretty much the make-or-break month for many donor-supported organizations.

Anyway, the other day we did something all too rare in the not-for-profit world: we celebrated. Our department leader scheduled a two-hour gathering in mid-afternoon complete with taco bar and refreshments and we had a mini-fiesta. And as we ate, we spent time talking about the contributions others had made to our collective success. It was a lot of fun and created, I think, a terrific atmosphere of cohesiveness and cooperation among our large and diverse team.

And that got me to thinking: how often do we miss the chance to gather together and celebrate what our teams have accomplished? How often do we pass up the opportunity for a collective celebratory pat on the back?

Maybe some bosses are afraid to “waste the time” when there’s so much work to be done — yes, you made the goal, but January sucks so get back to work. Others may fear we’ll all get too complacent and lose our sense of urgency if we spend even a little time in the party spirit recognizing what we’ve achieved together. I suppose some managers simply aren’t wired in a relational configuration (translation: they’re relatively un-empathetic and somewhat clueless about the emotional needs of their subordinates) so the idea of celebration never occurs to them. Maybe not-for-profit organizations are simply “celebratorily challenged.”

So here’s a suggestion: find something to celebrate, and do it! “Seek the good and praise it,” as the saying goes. If you haven’t been doing this much your team may find it odd at first, but having been on both sides of this one over the years I speak from experience: few things build a sense of team like a collective attaboy/attagirl. So, take some time off, invite the troops and have a party. Oh, and tacos help, too.