THE FIRES THIS TIME
It’s been a horrific week in LA. So hard not to think of the downside of paradise. Our fires, floods, earthquakes. My family (Midwest and east coasters) keep asking when I’m leaving LA. Probably never. I think about it, wanting less traffic mostly, but there is the weather—not so good lately—and the life I’ve built since I moved here January 1, 1972. That’s a long time.
I had friends who had to evacuate; some that lost their homes. And I couldn’t help but wonder how much worse it would have been if these losses were caused by war. All of which sent me down a rabbit hole that made work both hard and a respite from the news. Deadlines helped. I pride myself on not missing them (which is why open-ended “we shoulds”….never seem to get accomplished).
At times like this, it seems almost silly that we fret over things like worrying if you have the right words to ask someone to support your excellent cause. But we do. More often than not, I hear staff and board members tell me how they just don’t know what to say, so rather than be embarrassed, they say nothing.
Saying nothing, of course, gets you precisely that—zero, zilch. But what if you just simply spoke from your heart. Don’t worry about statistics, or remembering the exact words of the mission statement. Just talk about why this organization matters to you. Tell your friends, your neighbors, your dentist…anyone who might listen that you just want to share why I value my organization so much.
Of course, you have to know why you value it. Think about that. What makes you want to be a champion. If you are staff, perhaps it is just your paycheck or your title. But if that is the case, maybe you are in the wrong job. Typically, nonprofit people work where they do because the purpose of the organization is important to them. Dig down and find out what makes your organization that place. If you are a board member, a volunteer, a donor, consider what makes you give of your time and your treasure. And share that with others.
A few years ago, I was in the lobby of an agency that serves people with disabilities. A young man came in with his mother. She looked exhausted. He had a slack mouth and blank eyes. They were waiting to speak to the receptionist. Suddenly, the young man opened his arms out wide and announced to all, “I am so lucky to have this place!” And his mother beamed, her exhaustion gone.
Those few words told me how much that organization meant to those it served. And it was the story I told those I was trying to recruit for jobs, for board service, for donations. A little thing, but so mighty.
What most people want to know about an organization is what it accomplishes. In this case, it brought sunshine into the lives of those they serve and their families. Really, what more do you need?