Fundraising for the Long Haul
by Kim Klein

Reprinted by permission of Chardon Press.

Lesson Two:
The Importance of Being Straightforward

At my first fundraising job, I had the chance to shadow a successful fundraiser in a large urban educational institution by taking a job with the glorified title of "Development Associate." Basically I did whatever my boss asked and in return, he took me wherever he went.

One day he told me we were going to see a donor to ask for a lead gift of $600,000 for a capital campaign. My boss said that this donor had given that much to our institution before and was just waiting to be asked to give again. He said I could go with him and the chair of the board development committee, who was also a close friend of this donor.

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We arrived at the donor's office and sat across from him. A beautiful, table-sized teak desk with nothing on it but a phone separated the three of us from him. After introductions, the donor spoke quickly, "I hate fundraising. I hate being asked for money, but I love your institution, so here is my gift. Why don't we just go out to lunch?" With that, he pushed a check for $50,000 across the expanse. The development chair caught it, looked at it briefly, pushed it in front of me and my boss so we could see it, and then pushed it back to the donor. "We did not come all this way for that much money," he said. My insides did a double flip, but I said nothing. My boss looked impassively at the donor, like this was a normal conversation.

"Well," said the donor after a moment, "start talking." We did (or rather they did -- I tried to look intelligent). After forty minutes or so, the donor said, "OK, I'll give $600,000 again. I hope you'll take this check as a first payment." He pushed it across the desk again and laughed. "Of course," said the development chair and then we all went out to lunch (which the donor paid for).

Afterwards I said to the development chair, "How did you know that giving his check back would work out? Because really, that was the rudest thing I have ever seen!" He replied, "This guy likes to think of himself as a leader. He likes to make the first gift, and to make big gifts. He would have been really embarrassed to find out that $50,000 is not a big gift in this campaign, and that friends of his are making bigger gifts. Believe me, he would have been angry if I had just accepted that $50,000. What I did looked rude, but it was really the kindest thing." Hmmm, I thought.

This lesson sat in my brain taking up space to no purpose for many years until I was myself the staff person for a large capital campaign. We had decided to ask all our long-term major donors for gifts that were 10 times their annual gift (a common strategy in figuring out how much someone can give...). Although not everyone can give that much, and some people can give more, both fundraisers and donors like this formula because everyone is being asked for essentially the same increment, and it is an easy formula to explain and use with volunteers. When you have donors who do not wish to be thought of as wealthy and who go to some length to hide their wealth, putting a formula like this on your request is helpful. First of all, it is sometimes difficult to do research on these people. Sometimes you find out information you can't ethically use. For example, someone tells you, "I know from a confidential conversation that he inherited $5 million, but he doesn't want anyone to know that and you can never let on that I told you that. In fact I shouldn't have told you." That's the kind of information you have to forget because you can't use it.

Our campaign was carefully done. Every prospect got a letter explaining the request and the formula, with the amount they would be asked for. "We'd like to talk with you about making a gift that is 10 times your annual gift of $_____," the letter read. "We imagine you will need to think about such a large request, and we would like to meet with you just to answer questions and explain the campaign more. One of us will call you in a few days to see when a meeting might be possible."

One of the people we wanted to see gave $5,000 annually and so we were asking for $50,000. I sent the letter and followed up with a phone call. The donor, David, was enthusiastic and set up the meeting easily. I went with another staff person who was also a friend of David's. We talked briefly and David said, "Look, I'll save you some time. I love the idea of this campaign and I have decided to give $15,000 -- $5,000 a year for three years and to continue my annual gift of $5,000." The other staff and I looked at each other. David was smiling and nodding, and I made a split decision not to refer to the letter he had received making clear we were asking for $50,000. We both thanked him, talked for a little longer and left. I had forgotten the lesson of 20 years ago.

A week later, I got a call from David. He was furious with me. "I went to a party and a bunch of other donors were there and they were all talking about how they had decided to give 10 times their annual gift, and what a cool formula that was. I had never heard of that formula. They asked if I had decided what to do, and I told them about my gift and they all looked at me like I hadn't given enough. That's when I realized that 10 times my annual gift would be $50,000, not $15,000. How come you didn't tell me you wanted $50,000?"

I was totally taken aback. "Because," I stammered, "you seemed to have made up your mind, and $15,000 is a sizable gift, and the formula was in the letter I sent ahead of time."

He shot back, "You made me look cheap because you wouldn't tell me what you really wanted."

"I am so sorry. That was really not my intent."

"Sorry? You are sorry? You think sorry fixes something like this? Well, it doesn't!"

By now, feeling thoroughly miserable, I said, "I know it doesn't help, but it is really all I can say. If there is anything else I can do, you should tell me."

"Well," he said. "I am going to give $50,000, but it is not because of your request, and I am going to make it clear to people that it has nothing to do with you or how you are running this campaign." With that, he hung up.

Over the next few days I tried to blame him for what happened. He overreacted. He is hypersensitive. He would have been just as angry if he intended to give $15,000 and I had pushed for $50,000. And so on. However, it was clear that it didn't matter if any of these things were true of him -- what was true of me is that I should have known better from the lesson I saw 20 years earlier. I should have been straightforward with him.

There were three ways I could have done that. First, by remembering that he speaks quickly and decisively and knowing I would need to get the request in before he could make an offer. Second, if I could not get to the close before him, I should have thanked him for his gift and said, "You know we have asked everyone for a gift that is 10 times their annual gift. I think it has been a helpful way for people to think about what they can do. Did you find that helpful?"

This question would enable me to find out if he had decided on his gift based on this formula. For all I knew his answer might have been something like, "Yes, I knew I couldn't commit to $5,000 a year for 10 years, but I could do it for three years, which is how I came to decide on $15,000." Then I would have known that $15,000 was the gift he intended. As it turned out, he probably would have said something like, "What formula?" and we could have gone on from there.

The third way, the way that the development chair did it 20 years ago, would have been for me or the staff person who was with me to say to him, "David, we were hoping for $50,000. Is it possible for you to give $5,000 a year for 10 years?"

I am not really sure what would have been the right thing to say. What I do know is that my decision to simply thank him and go home was really based on a desire to save me -- not him -- embarrassment. I didn't want to look like I don't know when to quit or how to be gracious. Again, my self-absorption got in the way of thinking about the donor and talking about his interests in a straightforward way.