Change

Killed by cancer.

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Today would have been my friend Bridget's 30th birthday. Bridget was a team member of mine at Event 360. She died several months ago, and I was honored to deliver a eulogy at her funeral.

I have thought about Bridget a lot these last two months because I have been asked to speak about her often. At her funeral, at several conferences, and most recently at the Komen Leadership Conference a few weeks ago. I wanted to share a short experience.

During my presentation, I said something to the effect of “Like my mother, Bridget was killed by cancer.” Through the bright stage lights I could see the first few rows of the audience. Everyone stiffened when I said the word “killed.” I wasn’t going to make much of it but I saw that I had made everyone in the audience uncomfortable, so I paused for a moment.

I said, I use the word “killed” deliberately. I believe language is powerful; that language dictates our actions, and our actions shape the world. When we say someone “died of cancer” we are basically admitting that “dying of cancer” is an acceptable, normal state of affairs. We are saying, in essence, “people die for many reasons, and cancer is one of them.”

I disagree to the core of my soul. Cancer kills people. No one should die of it. If we harnessed enough of our money and technology and talent, we could make it preventable. I do not accept the worldview that it is a natural form of demise, and neither should you, because it isn’t true. 

Thank you Bridget, and thanks Mom, and thanks to my family friend Nick, and thanks to everyone out there who made the ultimate sacrifice to help the rest of us get our priorities in order. Bridget, more than anything, is a reminder to me of the work we have to do. And why it is worth doing.

 

The Way Out

This article was previously posted on Event 360's blog. Read more here.   

It has been a hectic year at Event 360. We’ve launched three new projects and a new training series – each with its own set of accomplishments and challenges. Further, we have seen this theme of challenge transcend our own company as we’ve partnered with one of our key clients to right-size a major project in response to their changing needs. And most importantly and closest to home, we’ve been tragically reminded of our mission through the loss of one of our team members to cancer.

All in all, it has been one of those quarters that seems to have stretched on for months. Our team is resolute but tired. We’re trying to keep our bearings in a changing landscape.  

Most of us have been through times like these at various points in our lives – times when what we think we know is rapidly replaced by a new order. Some of us are better at recalibrating than others. The ones who can adapt to a new deck of cards are crucial for the team, because they help lead the way for others. At the same time, during periods of intense change it is more important than ever to have people who are still holding onto the old deck; people who remember where we are and how we got there. In times of change we need equal parts respect for the past and willingness to innovate into the future. 

I am a huge fan of quotes and over the years I’ve collected thousands of them. Perhaps it is the poor person’s wisdom; maybe I’m too simple for philosophy and too distracted for genuine literature. Nevertheless, there’s something comforting and inspiring to me about advice that is distilled into a sentence.

One of my favorites is a line from Robert Frost’s A Servant of Servants: “The best way out is always through.” We can worry, and complain, and stress ourselves to pieces. Or we can stick out our chins and keep walking. The way out is just ahead.

It is tempting to think that life is like a video game, or perhaps a television show. Wouldn’t it be great if we could just change the channel? But there isn’t an “off” button for existence. We can all be grateful for that.

We’ve had a hectic quarter, but we’re walking on, and in so doing I’m reminded of why I started walking in the first place.

Over the next few months I look forward to sharing more about what we’ve learned. Some of the themes will be familiar, but I think others will be surprising – and helpful.

Until then, my best to you and yours for a wonderful summer event season.

A great summer.

A quick post for all parents of teens 14 years or older: If you are trying to help your teen come up with a constructive, positive, career-building, memorable answer to the question "How did you spend your summer?" then look no further than the 4th Estate Leadership Summit, this August in Los Angeles. $495 includes food, lodging, and three days of curriculum from over 30 nonprofits. 

It is going to be fantastic, and a lot more exciting than day camp, intramural softball, or tending the fry cooker. 

More information here.

Increasing share of heart.

I returned home yesterday from the annual Nonprofit Technology Conference in my usual state: Head and heart full, exhausted but invigorated.​

​Well, something's not right here.

This year's conference sparked a number of thoughts that I'll tackle in the coming weeks, but top of mind is the idea that I shared at my session yesterday: That despite all of our innovation, invention, energy, talent, and passion, the amount of charitable giving as a percentage of overall GDP has remained flat at 2% for the last forty years. I call this percentage our "share of heart."

​On the face this data point seems rather mundane but it is quite striking -- and sobering -- when you stop and think about it. What this tells you is that charitable giving is essentially a function of economic growth. In good times, people give more; in bad times, people give less. This total overall giving is irrespective of the level of need, or the number of nonprofits, or the messages we send, or the hard work you do, or anything really. While certain nonprofits may surge ahead or fall behind, the most important factor to overall generosity does not seem to be generosity at all. It is the inscrutably complex black box called the economy.

The public has a heart, for certain, but only a small share of it goes to the nonprofit space. And over forty years we haven't increased our share of heart at all. As the number of nonprofits grows, the only thing that keeps nonprofits from directly stealing or losing share from one another is economic growth -- growth that, as we've seen over the last five years, might hard to predict, or worse yet, small, or worse still,  actually negative.

To truly realize transformative change we need to come to grips with this mathematical reality and have a hard conversation about why our share of heart has stayed constant. Perhaps we need better salaries, relaxed overhead restrictions, and more advocacy, and all of those might help. But my sense is there's something deeper going on here. Either the general public is hard-hearted and there isn't much share of heart to be had; or what we do isn't perceived as the most effective way to effect social change. Since I do not believe the public's sympathies are tapped out, for my part I've concluded that the impact we're making just isn't compelling enough to elicit more donations. 

And that conclusion led me to my other 2013 NTC sound bite: The fundraising silver bullet is impact. The best fundraising strategy is not to persuade people that we could make a difference. We have to actually show people that we are making a difference. A longer road, to be sure.​

I have a fair idea I'll be talking about this more in the coming weeks, but for some background reading I'd direct you to a few previous posts from the last couple of years here and here and here. ​

​More to come.

Your next four years.

Whether you're waking up happy or sad, satisfied or dissatisfied, it's a good morning to keep things in perspective. No matter if you supported Obama, Romney, or someone else, I can 100% guarantee you that the person who will have the most influence on your next four years is YOURSELF.

Give yourself a vote of support today by setting aside your usual worries, insecurities, and doubts. Instead, spend a bit of time thinking about what you hope to contribute to the world around you. What's your four-year platform?

The State of Event Fundraising

Thanks to David Hessekiel and the wonderful folks at the Run Walk Ride Fundraising Council, I had a chance yesterday to riff for an hour on "The State of Event Fundraising." An overblown title, to be sure, but when David approached me several months ago about speaking I told him I wanted to steer away from my usual mix of strategy and analytics. Instead, I wanted to speak at a broader level about what I'm observing and thinking about.

In a nutshell, I think the dynamics in the nonprofit space are changing, and I'm not sure that we're reacting fast enough. I don't have many of the answers, and I haven't even articulated all of the right questions. But I know enough to know that I should starting talking it through with other thought leaders in the industry.

My fears of appearing overblown turned to performance anxiety when I learned that over 500 people had registered for the presentation -- a new record for Run Walk Ride. As it turned out, over half of those actually showed up and stayed to listen to my ramblings, which can be found on Slideshare here or at the bottom of this post. The entire hour-long presentation, with audio, can be found at Cause Marketing Forum.

I'm not sure what to take from all of that -- y'all don't have enough to do on Thursday afternoons, apparently . But I think what it means is that many others share my anxiety that the dynamics are changing, and many others share my hope that we can benefit from those changes. 

I look forward to sharing some of the observations, thoughts, cautions, and ideas over the coming weeks. 

Heart on sleeves + shovels in hands.

Well, despite all good intentions of writing more frequently throughout the summer, here we are in late July with nary one original post in almost a month. Twenty lashes!

Actually, I’ve been quite busy (although we’re not supposed to say that anymore) with a stimulating roster of meetings, client engagements, and conferences. Yesterday was one example: I had a chance to address the rather wonderful staff of the Nonprofit Technology Network during their summer staff meeting. I discussed a tightly-related group of fascinating topics… er, that is, I kind of rambled around about a loosely-connected set of odds and ends. 

One of the common threads of our discussion was the sense of cynicism that seems to increasingly pervade our culture. Even the most optimistic among us are finding it hard to keep our upper lips stiff. When movies become massacres, political half-truths masquerade as informed debate, and economic conditions don’t appear to be particularly well-conditioned, who can blame us for adopting an attitude of resignation? 

Further, what are we to make of the fact that major corporations appear to have grasped onto the ideas of “impact” and “change” as just one more marketing approach? How should we react when we have behemoth institutions promising to help us “Live Better,” empower our potential, and restore the environments they’ve destroyed? We can excuse ourselves our bouts of skepticism. 

And yet, despite all of that, perhaps more optimism is exactly what we need. As a member of the small constituency of sappy, overly sensitive guys out there, let me argue that in a world of choreographed demagogues and overly-inflated blowhards, perhaps we need a few more people who cry at weddings and sing love songs at the piano, at least to restore some sort of cosmic equilibrium. 

The fact is, it has never been easier — and more socially acceptable — to be a skeptic. Hipster coolness, self-righteous apathy, veiled elitism, and detached cynicism are the new cool. We go through life alone together, commenting and criticizing on everything around us, disappointed but not surprised. 

But for those few of you out there who are still reading, I say this: While everyone is sitting on the bleachers complaining about the game, you may have noticed that no one is actually on the field. With so many leadership opportunities and so few taking advantage of them, there’s no easier time to be a world-changer. 

We’ve got “detached cynicism” covered. What we need are a few more hearts on sleeves and shovels in hands. The personal bravery; the whispered hope; the patient dream; the small optimism; the incremental improvement; the tiny change for the better — I will never believe that any are in vain. 

Happy summer.

A brief soapbox about freedom and spirituality. Feel free to tune it out.

For several years I’ve listed my “Religious Views” on Facebook as “Appreciate and wonder at the beauty all around us.” I have more precise views than that, but that’s basically what it boils down to for me. And since I believe there are a lot of different doorways into the same room, I haven’t felt the need to be any more specific. Surely there’s common ground for us somewhere, right?

Similarly, I’ve listed my “Political Views” as “Teach responsibility and then trust people.” I’ve got other axes to grind, and certain issues and candidates hold my attention more than others, but that phrase sums it up.

But oh my! If it were only that easy! This morning as I look at the news and the commentary surrounding it, I’m reading a lot of concern about recent events in North Carolina and Colorado, and on the other side of the coin, a lot of passionate justification for it. 

My own feeling is that the biggest obstacle to a better world isn’t evil — it’s apathy. It is in that spirit I write the following.

I’ve been on a spiritual journey for quite some time. My 40 days in the desert have lasted a lot longer than I thought they would, and have encountered some setbacks and wrong turns. Perhaps the best way to say it is that sometimes life events (like this and this) obscure your view at first, only to provide clarity later. Some of the experiences that have been the most confusing to me have later become the most enlightening.

And so, I feel like I’m close to reaching a spiritual destination. My journey hasn’t been a specifically religious one, but in the context of spirituality, one eventually decides to at least explore that avenue. As my dad liked to say, “Organized religion is the only kind.” True enough. Thus I’ve spent quite a bit of time lately exploring the connection between religion and spirituality, and what it means for me.

In that exploration, I’ve found a lot that has resonated with me. More than I thought I would, to be honest. And by the same token, I can’t find one single thing that justifies, in a moral sense, the authority of one group to subjugate another’s ability to let their hearts decide whom they love and how they do it. And I certainly don’t believe for one second that any group has the political authority to do it either. In terms of the hierarchy of things, I believe God works for good, and vice versa. And I believe the government works for us. 

We become quickly spoiled by what we have worked for, particularly when others do the work. That brand-new HDTV you waited a year to afford looks gorgeous when you first set it in the living room. Six months later, you can’t remember what you were so impressed with. And if you get the TV as a gift? Two months.

But we must resist that same complacency when it comes to issues of justice. It is all too easy to forget that less than 200 years ago, humans were bought and sold; objectified, manipulated, dehumanized. It is all too easy to dismiss that less than 100 years ago, women were not permitted to vote because others felt anatomy somehow dictated superiority. Less than 60 years ago, a whole generation of Jews was nearly wiped off the earth forever. And for those thinking “But that won’t happen anymore,” I direct you to exhibit A, Rwanda, and exhibit B, Kosovo. Which happened … in our lifetime.

Equality is not HDTV. It doesn’t have a shelf life. And it isn’t a product meant to be accessible only to those who can afford it, or who can mobilize enough resources to argue on behalf of it. 

From what I can see, the right to love and be loved is as fundamental as it gets. It transcends the will of any one political entity and any one religious dogma, and comes, in its entirety, from the Spirit that has breathed us all into existence. 

For values to be real, whether political or spiritual, they must apply to everyone. Otherwise you don’t have values — you have a members-only club. Freedom, love, justice, and equality do not require an application. 

In 40 years, our children will look back and wonder what all the fuss was all about; and hopefully, they will shake their heads at our ignorance, and hide their shock at our bigotry, the way we do when we consider slavery and genocide. 

But between now and then, you have to live with yourself. Are your “shared values” meant for you alone? Shouldn’t you share them with everyone?

When I read “God is love,” I don’t see an asterisk next to it.