Three. Days.

He was panicked. Rightfully so.

I attended the event and watched as my friend bravely stood in front of the room and asked:

“Who will join us at $10,000?”

And then...

Silence.

The kind of silence where suddenly everyone becomes deeply fascinated by the centerpiece.

I felt terrible for him because the problem wasn’t that he had asked badly. The problem was that the organization had begun its $10,000 ask months too late.

Then I Ran Into Them Again

Last month, I happened to meet some of the organization’s leadership at a mixer.

Because apparently I am incapable of making small talk about the weather, I gently asked how the spring fundraiser had gone.

Did they meet their goal?

Not exactly.

In fact, they described it as one of the worst events in the organization’s history.

Ouch.

I told them I had been there and asked if they would be open to a few suggestions before planning the next one.

Yes, I am a nonprofit consultant. I teach fundraising, coach Development Directors and generally enjoy being paid for doing those things. But I also care about my community and the organizations serving it.

Sometimes you simply help.

So, the event Chair and I had lunch and I gave her what I affectionately think of as the fundraising-event crash course.

And the first lesson had very little to do with the event.

People Give to People

If there is one fundraising principle I wish I could shout from the rooftops, it is this:

People give to people, not organizations.

Fundraising is built on relationships.

And relationships take time.

That creates a particular challenge for an all-volunteer organization whose leadership changes regularly. One group of Board members builds relationships with donors and sponsors, their terms end, new leaders arrive and those relationships aren’t intentionally handed off.

Eventually, donors hear from the organization primarily when someone wants a sponsorship, a table purchase or a donation.

That’s not a relationship.

That’s a billing cycle.

This organization has former Board members, sponsors and donors who once cared enough about its mission to invest their time or money. My first suggestion was simple: reconnect with them.

Invite them to a gathering. Tell them what’s happening. Let them meet current leadership. Share stories about the impact of the organization.

And don’t ask them for money.

Not yet.

You can’t be a fair-weather friend to your donors. If the only time they hear from you is when you need something, eventually they stop answering the phone.

Nine Months Is a Gift

Their next gala is nine months away.

That may sound like plenty of time. It isn’t.

But it is enough time.

That’s the hopeful part.

They can begin rebuilding relationships now. They can identify potential sponsors now. They can think about which businesses have a natural connection to their audience and mission and, importantly, what value those businesses receive from sponsoring the event.

Sponsorship isn’t simply:

We are wonderful. Please give us $5,000.

A business may be interested in community visibility, reaching a particular audience, demonstrating its values or strengthening its reputation. A good sponsorship opportunity considers what the nonprofit needs and what matters to the sponsor.

And nine months gives you time to have those conversations.

About That Dreaded Paddle Raise . . .

Here’s the biggest misconception about a fund-a-need:

The paddle raise does not begin when the emcee walks onto the stage.

It begins months earlier.

Before someone asks a room full of people, “Who will join us at $10,000?” someone in that room should already have agreed to raise a paddle at $10,000.

Preferably more than one someone.

This is not cheating.

This is planning.

Those early commitments create momentum. Other guests see people giving and understand that this is a moment when participation is expected.

And your poor emcee doesn’t have to stand under a spotlight contemplating every life choice that brought them to this moment.

You also want giving levels that make sense for your audience and connect those amounts to something tangible. What does $10,000 accomplish? What about $5,000? $1,000? $500?

Help donors understand what their gift does, not simply what it costs.

Then think about the moment itself. Put the fund-a-need after a powerful mission story, video or speaker, when people have just been reminded why they care.

And please make sure someone is watching the room so no raised paddle goes unnoticed.

Nothing says “We value your generosity” quite like failing to notice it.

A Bad Event Isn’t the End of the Story

This is the part I really want nonprofit leaders to hear.

If your last fundraiser didn’t go well, that doesn’t mean your organization is terrible at fundraising.

It doesn’t mean your donors don’t care.

And it certainly doesn’t mean your next event is doomed.

It means you have information.

You know what didn’t work.

Now you have the opportunity to do something differently.

Start earlier. Reconnect with people. Build relationships before you need them. Talk with potential sponsors instead of simply sending them a sponsorship packet. Secure those first paddle commitments long before anyone picks up a microphone.

You don’t have to fix everything tomorrow.

You just need to start.

Because events don’t raise money.

Relationships do.

And when those relationships haven’t been built and expectations haven’t been set, you’re not really hosting a fundraiser.

You’re hosting a really nice party . . . with a very expensive bill at the end.

If you’re planning an event and aren’t quite sure where to begin, I have some free tools that can help, including an event decision-making tool and month-by-month planning guide, paddle bid numbers and guest seating spreadsheet. And if you’d rather talk it through with an actual human, I’m always happy to have a 30-minute discovery conversation.

Because with the right planning and the right preparation, that awful moment of silence?

It doesn’t have to happen.

Sweet dreams.

She did not sound excited.

That surprised me. I happen to be a fan of Board retreats. Done well, they can help a Board step away from agendas, committee reports and the tyranny of approving last month’s minutes long enough to think about where the organization is actually going.

So, what was the problem?

Apparently, this Board loves retreats.

They get away for the weekend. They enjoy each other’s company. They eat. They socialize. They talk. They probably have some very nice wine.

And then they go home having accomplished . . . not much.

I believe my response was something along the lines of, “Well, then you don’t have a retreat. You have a weekend getaway.”

There’s nothing wrong with Board members enjoying one another’s company. In fact, relationships matter. A Board whose members know and trust one another is generally better equipped to have difficult conversations and make difficult decisions.

But if you’re calling it a Board retreat, something needs to happen besides lunch.

Start With the “Why”

A retreat should never begin with, “We haven’t had one in a while.” Why are you bringing everyone together?

Maybe your organization is facing a major decision. Perhaps the Board and Executive Director need to clarify their respective roles. You may be preparing for a capital campaign, experiencing significant growth or trying to determine your strategic priorities for the next few years.

Whatever the reason, you should be able to finish this sentence:

At the end of this retreat, we will have ____________.

Not “talked about.” Not “explored.” Not “had a robust discussion regarding.”

What will you have accomplished?

If you don’t know, you probably aren’t ready to plan the retreat.

It’s Their Retreat, Too

One of the biggest mistakes I see is a retreat designed entirely around what the Executive Director or Board Chair thinks everyone else needs to discuss.

That’s a little like planning a family vacation without asking anyone else where they want to go. You may be very excited about Colonial Williamsburg. Everyone else may be wondering why they weren’t consulted.

Before I facilitate a retreat, I want to hear from the people who will actually be in the room.

One simple question can tell you a lot:

What do you hope will be different as a result of this retreat?

Ask everyone. Then look for patterns.

If half the Board says, “I want to better understand our financial situation,” and the other half says, “I want clarity about where we’re headed,” that tells you considerably more than simply dusting off last year’s retreat agenda.

It also creates ownership. This becomes our retreat, not something being done to us.

Don’t Build an Agenda. Build a Journey.

A good retreat agenda isn’t a collection of topics.

Item A should lead somewhere. Item B should build upon it. By the time you reach Item C, the group should be able to do something it couldn’t have done three hours earlier because of the work it has already completed.

And please, please resist the temptation to cram twelve major organizational issues into a six-hour retreat.

Your Board members already have jobs, families and lives. Bringing them together for a “retreat” and then subjecting them to a breathless agenda with 37 PowerPoint slides before lunch is not strategic planning.

It may, however, violate the Geneva Convention.

Choose the big things.

Give people time to think. Let them wrestle with an issue. Use small groups when appropriate. Allow a conversation to go someplace unexpected when that conversation is clearly important.

And yes, give them lunch.

Bring the Mission Into the Room

This is particularly important for nonprofit retreats.

Budgets, policies, organizational charts and strategic objectives matter. But somewhere in the middle of all that governance, it’s remarkably easy to forget why the organization exists in the first place.

Bring the people you serve into the conversation, even if they aren’t physically in the room. Share a story, a testimonial or an example that reminds everyone why the organization exists in the first place.

It’s easy to spend a retreat talking about programs, budgets and strategic priorities. A real story brings everyone back to the point of all that work:

People.

Sometimes that’s exactly the reminder a Board needs.

That’s when a retreat can move from being merely productive to something much more meaningful.

This may be controversial . . .

Never put the word “icebreaker” on your agenda.

People see it and immediately begin plotting their escape.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t help people connect, especially if Board members don’t know one another well. You absolutely should. Build connection naturally into an opening activity. Ask a question that gets people talking. Pair people who don’t normally work together. Give them something meaningful to discuss.

Call it almost anything. Just don’t call it an icebreaker.

Who Should Facilitate?

I’m going to make the case for an outside facilitator, and not simply because I happen to be one.

A good facilitator isn’t there to direct traffic and keep the meeting on schedule. The real value is that the facilitator is outside the system.

The Executive Director should be able to participate rather than facilitate. The Board Chair should be able to wrestle with the questions rather than watch the clock.

And when an uncomfortable issue surfaces, someone needs to be willing to say, “I think we need to stay with this conversation a little longer.”

An outside facilitator can listen for what is being said, notice what isn’t being said, connect ideas, challenge assumptions and help the group turn conversation into decisions.

And a good facilitator needs to be willing to tell the Executive Director or Board Chair something they may not particularly want to hear.

Politely, of course.

Usually.

But I also recognize reality: not every nonprofit can afford to hire a consultant.

If that’s your organization, please don’t conclude that you can’t have a productive retreat.

Look for resources available through the U.S. Small Business Administration or SCORE, an SBA resource partner that provides mentoring and educational resources. Depending on the issue you’re trying to address, you may be able to find no-cost guidance that helps you think through your planning process.

Another option? Ask for help within your nonprofit community.

Perhaps there is a respected Executive Director from another organization who understands nonprofit leadership and governance and would be willing to facilitate for you. The important thing is that the person is neutral, skilled at listening and not personally invested in a particular outcome.

Free doesn’t have to mean wing it.

The Retreat Isn’t Over When Everyone Goes Home

This may be the part that matters most.

You had the retreat. People were energized. There were flip charts everywhere. Someone said something profound. Everyone left saying, “That was really worthwhile!”

Wonderful.

Now what?

Within days, not months, capture what was decided. Identify the action items. Determine who owns each one and by when.

Then put those commitments on future Board agendas.

Because a retreat that produces brilliant ideas but no follow-through is really just a very expensive brainstorming session with better snacks.

The measure of a successful retreat isn’t how people feel when they leave. It’s what the organization does differently afterward.

Get Out of the Conference Room

If you can, hold your retreat someplace that feels different.

A donor’s home. A community room. A quiet meeting space somewhere away from the office.

You don’t need a resort. You don’t need matching robes. You don’t need cucumber water. You need people to feel that this is not another Board meeting. Make them comfortable. Feed them. Give them permission to think beyond next month’s agenda.

Then give them meaningful work to do.

A Board retreat can build trust, clarify direction, strengthen the partnership between the Board and Executive Director and create genuine momentum.

Or it can be a lovely Saturday with lunch.

Both can be enjoyable. Only one should be called a Board retreat.

If your Board is considering a retreat and you’re not quite sure how to turn all those things you need to talk about into something focused, productive and actionable, I’d be happy to help you think it through. Sometimes a little outside perspective is all it takes to turn a day away from the office into a day that actually moves the organization forward.

And honestly? This one is worth repeating.

I regularly hear from people who have identified a need, have a passion for making a difference and are ready to start a nonprofit.

My first piece of advice sometimes surprises them:

Maybe don’t. At least not yet.

Before filing paperwork, it’s worth asking some important questions. Is there truly an unmet need? Is another organization already doing this work? Could you partner with an existing nonprofit? And perhaps most importantly, is a nonprofit actually the best structure for what you want to accomplish?

That’s what this week’s encore edition is about.

And if you decide a nonprofit is the right path, I’ve got you covered. If you’re starting one in California, I have a free step-by-step guide that walks you through the process. Or, if you’re still wondering whether your idea belongs in a nonprofit, for-profit or social enterprise model, you can schedule a free 30-minute Discovery Session with me and we’ll talk it through.

I’ll be back next week with a brand-new edition. In the meantime, enjoy this one from the archives — preferably while I’m enjoying some cooler Connecticut weather.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Before you start a nonprofit, you should know this: many struggle—not because the mission isn’t worthy, but because no one treated it like a business.

If you know someone who’s thinking about starting a nonprofit, do them a favor—send them this before they file anything.

I’m going to start with something I say more often than people expect:

“Don’t start a nonprofit.”

I know. Not exactly the inspirational speech you were hoping for. And yes, I say that as someone who founded a nonprofit myself.

But before you clutch your pearls—or your carefully drafted mission statement—hear me out.

Every week, I meet someone with a big idea and an even bigger heart. They’ve seen a problem in the community and they want to fix it. And that instinct? That’s beautiful. That’s where many great nonprofits begin.

But here’s the part no one likes to talk about:

A nonprofit is not just a cause.
It’s a business—with paperwork. Lots of paperwork.

And if you’re not ready for that part, you’re not ready for a nonprofit.

Passion Is the Spark. It Is Not the Strategy.

Most founders come in strong on the “cause.”

They can tell you exactly who they want to help and why it matters. They’ve lived it, seen it, or felt it.

What they often can’t tell you is:

• What their revenue model is

• Who their competitors are

• How they will sustain operations beyond year one

And yes, I said competitors.

Because whether we like it or not, nonprofits operate in a marketplace with limited dollars and a lot of worthy causes.

You really do need to research first, and then ask yourself: Is there truly an unmet need—or are there already organizations doing this work?

Sometimes the most impactful thing you can do is partner, not start something new.

Let’s Be Clear: You Are Starting a Business

Nonprofit is a tax status. It is not a business model.

If you are starting a nonprofit, you are starting a business that happens to serve a mission.

And businesses require:

• Planning

• Infrastructure

• Revenue

• Systems

• Leadership

Passion will absolutely feed your soul. It will not pay your mortgage.

About That “We’ll Just Get Grants” Plan…

I’m going to say this gently: That is not a plan.

Most foundations will not fund brand-new nonprofits. In fact, many want to see 3–5 years of operating history before they even consider you.

So the question becomes:

How are you funding this in the meantime?

If the answer is:

• “We’ll figure it out”

• “People will donate”

• “We’ll apply for grants”

. . .we need to talk.

Because what you actually need is a business plan—one that outlines:

• Revenue streams

• Program costs

• Staffing, even if it’s just you and your coffee

• Sustainability

If the Paperwork Feels Overwhelming . . . That’s a Clue

Let’s walk through just the beginning:

• Articles of Incorporation

• Bylaws

• Conflict of Interest policy

• IRS Form 1023

• State filings (hello, California Secretary of State and Franchise Tax Board)

And that’s just to get started.

If this already feels like too much, I say this with love:

Running the nonprofit will not be easier.

Because once you’re up and running, the paperwork doesn’t go away—it multiplies.

Also… You Don’t Actually “Own” a Nonprofit

This one surprises people.

A nonprofit is governed by a Board of Directors.
They provide oversight. They make decisions. They hire—and can fire—the Executive Director.

The Executive Director manages the day-to-day.

But ownership?

That’s not how this works.

If what you really want is:

• Control

• Flexibility

• The ability to pivot quickly

You may want to seriously consider a for-profit or social enterprise model instead.

Before you start a nonprofit, it’s also worth asking: could this be a social enterprise instead? A social enterprise is simply a business that exists to solve a social problem—but generates its own revenue by selling a product or service. Instead of relying on grants or donations, it funds its mission through earned income. The benefit? You have more flexibility, more control, and a much clearer path to sustainability. You can test ideas, adjust quickly, and grow without waiting for funding cycles or board approval. In many cases, a social enterprise allows you to do just as much good—while building something that can actually support itself.

I’m Not Here to Crush Dreams

I promise.

Nonprofits do extraordinary work. They solve real problems and change lives every single day.

But the strongest organizations—the ones that last—are built on more than passion.

They are built on:

• Strategy

• Structure

• Sustainability

• And yes… spreadsheets

Before You File Anything…

Pause.

Ask yourself:

• Is there truly an unmet need?

• Could I partner instead of starting something new?

• Am I ready to run a business—not just support a cause?

• Do I have the time, energy, and resources to sustain this for the long haul?

Because starting a nonprofit is not just about doing good.

It’s about doing good . . . well.

If you’re thinking about starting a nonprofit, let’s talk—before you file anything.

I can help you:

• Pressure-test your idea

• Explore alternative models, including partnerships or earned income options

• Determine whether a nonprofit is truly the right path

Because sometimes the best thing you can do for your mission . . .

is not start a nonprofit at all.

P.S. If you live in California, click here to download a free step-by-step guide to starting a nonprofit.

I recently received a call from someone interested in starting a volunteer program for their nonprofit.

Great! I love volunteers. Volunteers can bring energy, expertise, connections and an extraordinary amount of heart to an organization.

But, naturally, my brain immediately went somewhere else.

After writing recently about how many nonprofits are struggling financially, I found myself wondering: Are organizations considering volunteers because they want to expand their capacity, or because they’re trying to replace paid staff?

Those are two very different things.

And one of them can get you into trouble.

Volunteers Should Add Capacity, Not Replace Payroll

Let’s start with an important legal distinction.

The U.S. Department of Labor recognizes legitimate volunteering for charitable, religious, civic and humanitarian nonprofit organizations. Generally, a volunteer freely gives their time without an expectation of compensation.

But there’s an important catch: volunteers typically should not displace regular employees or perform work that would otherwise be performed by paid staff.

In other words:

Paid staff + volunteers = expanded mission capacity.

Paid staff → volunteers = potential red flag.

Suppose you have a paid employee managing your donor database, processing gifts and sending acknowledgments. You eliminate the position because money is tight and recruit volunteers to perform substantially the same work.

Calling those people “volunteers” doesn’t automatically make them volunteers in the eyes of the law.

Similarly, you can’t generally ask an employee to work eight paid hours and then “volunteer” another two hours doing the same job for free.

If reducing payroll is the primary reason you’re considering a volunteer program, stop before you start posting volunteer opportunities. Talk with qualified employment counsel about what you’re contemplating.

Volunteers can save an organization money. But “free labor” should never be the foundation of your volunteer strategy.

Before You Recruit Anyone, Know What You Need

Let’s assume you’re developing a volunteer program for all the right reasons.

Your first question still shouldn’t be, Where should we advertise?

It should be:

What do we actually need volunteers to do?

Create volunteer position descriptions just as you would job descriptions. Define the responsibilities, skills needed, expected time commitment, work location and who will supervise the volunteer.

And don’t forget the other side of the equation: What’s in it for the volunteer?

Maybe they want to support a cause they care about. Perhaps they’re retired and miss using their professional skills. They may want experience, social connection or an opportunity to learn something new.

The best volunteer relationships aren’t one-sided. The organization gets something valuable and so does the volunteer.

Yes, You Need an Application

“We need help Saturday. Bring a friend!”

I’ve heard versions of that recruitment strategy more times than I care to admit.

Please don’t make that your volunteer program.

Have an application. Interview volunteers when appropriate. Check references based on the responsibilities and risks of the position. Conduct background checks when the role warrants them or the law requires them.

Your onboarding should also include the things people tend to skip because, well, they’re only volunteers.

Explain your mission. Provide a written position description. Review policies and procedures. Explain confidentiality requirements. Identify who supervises them and where they should go with a concern.

Depending on the role, you should also consider confidentiality agreements, conflict-of-interest policies, emergency procedures, safety training, appropriate insurance coverage and liability or assumption-of-risk waivers. Have your insurance carrier and legal counsel advise you about what your particular organization and volunteer activities require.

And train them.

Being unpaid does not magically give someone the knowledge required to do the job.

Screen for the Position, Not Just the Person

Not every volunteer position carries the same level of risk.

Someone stuffing envelopes for two hours does not necessarily require the same screening as someone driving clients to appointments, handling money, accessing confidential information, entering clients’ homes or working alone with vulnerable people.

Your screening process should match the position.

That’s why defining the volunteer role comes before recruiting the volunteer.

And please don’t skip screening because you know someone.

“Oh, I’ve known Bob for years. He’s wonderful.”

Maybe Bob is wonderful. Bob can still fill out the application. Good policies protect everyone, including Bob.

Volunteers Working With Children Require Another Level of Care

If your organization serves children or teens, this deserves its own conversation.

A warm smile and a willingness to help are not sufficient qualifications for unsupervised access to children.

Youth-serving organizations need rigorous, consistent screening and safety procedures for employees and volunteers. The CDC recommends a comprehensive approach that includes screening and selection, clear guidelines for interactions between adults and youth, monitoring behavior, safe environments, procedures for responding to concerns and training.

That means your organization should have written youth-protection policies before the volunteer begins working with children.

Screening should be appropriate to the role and can include a written application, interview, reference checks and applicable criminal-history and sex-offender-registry checks. If volunteers will transport children, driving records and transportation policies need attention too.

Then there is supervision.

Organizations should establish clear rules about when and how adults can interact with children, including policies designed to avoid isolated one-adult/one-child situations whenever possible.

If you’re in California, pay particular attention to this. State law imposes specific training, background-check and prevention-policy requirements on qualifying youth service organizations and their regular volunteers.

This isn’t the place for, “But we’ve always trusted our volunteers.”

Trust your volunteers.

And have excellent safeguards.

Those two things are not mutually exclusive.

Don’t Recruit Them and Forget Them

A volunteer program isn’t finished when you’ve filled the positions. Someone needs to manage it.Volunteers need orientation, communication, feedback and supervision. They need to know whether they’re doing what you hoped they would do.

They also need appreciation.

And no, I’m not suggesting you hold a Volunteer Appreciation Gala with a chocolate fountain and commemorative tote bags. Unless you want to. I’m certainly not opposed to chocolate. Mark your calendar—April is Volunteer Appreciation Month!

Recognition can be remarkably simple: say thank you. Tell volunteers how their work mattered. Share the outcome they helped create. Ask about their experience. Listen when they tell you something isn’t working.

And periodically evaluate the program itself.

Are volunteers staying? Are they accomplishing what you recruited them to do? Do they feel supported? Are staff comfortable working with them? Have new risks emerged? Are there volunteer positions that should change or disappear?

A healthy volunteer program evolves with the organization.

Volunteers Are Valuable. Treat Them That Way.

Volunteers provide enormous value to nonprofit organizations, but a strong volunteer program requires more than finding nice people willing to work for free.

It requires intentionality.

Know why you need volunteers. Define meaningful roles. Recruit thoughtfully. Screen appropriately. Train and supervise them. Protect the people you serve. Recognize their contributions and keep asking whether the program is working for both the organization and the volunteer.

Done well, volunteers don’t replace the people who make your organization work.

They expand what’s possible.

If you’re thinking about starting or strengthening a volunteer program and aren’t sure where to begin, reach out. I have sample volunteer materials, including an application, that I’m happy to share. Sometimes you don’t need to reinvent the wheel. You just need to make sure the wheel has policies, procedures and appropriate insurance coverage.

And that dear nonprofit leader, should help you sleep better tonight!

I’m writing this week’s newsletter from the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway.

Down on the desert floor, it’s somewhere around 115 degrees. Up here, it’s about 35 degrees cooler, the Jeffrey pines are swaying in the breeze and I even managed to sneak in a short hike before sitting down to write.

If you’ve never visited the Tram, put it on your list.

Unfortunately, some nonprofit leaders don’t have the luxury of escaping what they’re facing this summer.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had conversations with three Executive Directors from three different organizations. None of them know each other. Yet every conversation sounded remarkably similar.

“We’re looking at layoffs.”

“We may have to furlough staff.”

“We’re not sure how we’re going to get through the rest of the year.”

Each one asked essentially the same question:

“What can we do to raise money...quickly?”

I hate giving this answer.

There really aren’t quick fixes in fundraising.

Donors don’t magically appear because your cash flow is tight. Foundations don’t suddenly move your proposal to the top of the pile because you’re in a crisis.

As I jokingly told one Executive Director, “I can’t just pull donors out of thin air. It doesn’t work like that.”

That got me wondering.

Am I simply hearing three isolated stories? Or are we seeing the beginning of a much more challenging funding environment?

Everything I’m reading suggests it’s the latter.

Federal funding has become less predictable. Competition for grants is increasing. Donors are becoming more selective. At the very time many nonprofits are serving more people, they’re finding it harder to replace the dollars needed to do the work.

But here’s the question that has been bothering me even more.

Where were the Boards?

Now, before anyone gets defensive, this isn’t about assigning blame. It’s about understanding responsibility. One of the Board’s most important fiduciary duties is financial oversight. That doesn’t mean every Board member needs to be a CPA. It does mean every Board member should understand the story the budget is telling.

A budget isn’t just a spreadsheet. It’s your organization’s financial roadmap. It reflects where you expect revenue to come from, how you’ll invest those resources and whether your plans are financially realistic.

The problem is that too many Boards approve a budget once a year...and then don’t really look at it again until something has gone terribly wrong.

That’s like agreeing on a road trip to Seattle, putting the GPS in the glove compartment and hoping for the best.

Good Boards don’t simply approve budgets. They monitor them. They ask questions.

“What happens if that grant doesn’t come through?”

“What if donations are 20 percent lower than projected?”

“Are we relying too heavily on one funding source?”

“How long can we sustain this deficit?”

Those aren’t pessimistic questions. They’re governance questions.

And here’s something many people don’t realize. Approving a deficit budget isn’t automatically a bad decision. Sometimes it’s entirely appropriate. Perhaps you’re intentionally using reserves. Maybe you’ve made a strategic investment in new programming. Perhaps grant revenue is expected later in the year.

The key isn’t whether there’s a deficit. The key is whether there’s a plan. Hope is not a funding strategy. Neither is assuming a generous donor will ride in like a nonprofit superhero just in time to save the day.

The Executive Director and the Board are partners. The Executive Director manages the day-to-day operations. The Board provides oversight, asks thoughtful questions and helps ensure the organization remains financially healthy.

When those two roles work together, organizations are much more likely to spot trouble while there is still time to change course. Unfortunately, by the time some organizations realize they’re headed toward a financial cliff, they’ve already run out of road.

A Gentle Nudge

If your Board approves the budget with very few questions...or only looks closely at the financials when someone says, “We have a problem,” it may be time for a different conversation.

Your Board doesn’t need to become a room full of accountants. It simply needs the confidence to ask good questions. Because the best time to solve a funding crisis isn’t when you’re announcing layoffs. It’s six months earlier, when the budget first begins whispering that something isn’t quite right.

If this week’s newsletter made you wonder whether your Board is asking the right financial questions, perhaps it’s time for a conversation. Helping Boards become more confident, engaged partners is some of the most rewarding work I do.

His organization had been doing quite well. In fact, it had grown almost entirely on the strength of one large state grant.

There was just one problem. The grant is ending in a few months.

“There doesn’t seem to be another opportunity like it,” he said. “What should I do?”

My first question wasn’t about fundraising. It wasn’t about grants. It wasn’t even about donors.

I asked, “How active is your Board of Directors?”

His response stopped me in my tracks.

“Well...I don’t really have a Board. I mean, technically I do. They’re listed on paper, but they never meet and pretty much let me do whatever I want.”

If you’re thinking, Founder? Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.

This wasn’t the first time I’d heard that answer.

In fact, if I had a dollar for every Executive Director who’s jokingly asked, “Can I just get rid of my Board?” I’d probably be writing this from a beach somewhere.

I understand the frustration. Boards can sometimes ask difficult questions, move slower than we’d like or occasionally wander into the weeds.

But here’s the thing.

A nonprofit without an active Board isn’t free.

It’s vulnerable.

Your Board isn’t just there because the IRS likes paperwork or California enjoys creating corporate formalities. An engaged Board provides oversight, accountability and strategic direction. More importantly, it’s a legal requirement.

When a Board exists “in name only,” several things begin to unravel.

Governance becomes one person’s responsibility. Financial oversight weakens. Strategic thinking often disappears. And if something goes wrong, the legal and financial consequences can become very real—for the organization and for the people listed as directors, whether they attended meetings or not.

But here’s what struck me most about that phone call. The Executive Director wasn’t really asking about grants. He was asking how to save his organization.

Without a functioning Board, I honestly didn’t have many fundraising suggestions to offer.

Fundraising isn’t just the Executive Director’s job.

A healthy Board opens doors, introduces potential donors, builds community credibility and demonstrates that the organization has thoughtful leadership. Many foundations and major donors look at governance before they ever look at the fundraising plan (The Board is the first place I look when considering a new client!).

That’s why I often describe the Executive Director and Board Chair as partners in a three-legged race. They each have different responsibilities. They each have their own lane. But if they aren’t moving together, neither one gets very far.

So, if your Board meetings are attended by the same three people...or if your Board exists mainly because someone had to fill out the incorporation paperwork years ago...it may be time for a reset.

The good news?

Boards can be rebuilt.

Members can be trained.

Roles can be clarified.

And a Board that once felt like a necessary nuisance can become one of your organization’s greatest assets.

Because at the end of the day, your Board shouldn’t simply appear on your Form 990. It should show up for your mission.

A Gentle Nudge

If your Board could use a little more engagement, clarity or confidence, let’s have a conversation. Sometimes a few practical changes can transform a Board from a group that simply approves the minutes into one that truly helps lead the organization.

Until next week, may your Board meetings have a quorum, your minutes be approved on the first try and may no one utter the words, “I thought someone else was handling that.”

At a recent business mixer, I was chatting with several nonprofit colleagues. One of them had just shared my blog on LinkedIn with the heading, “What I’m reading.” Naturally, I was delighted—and grateful. She introduced me to a friend who was visiting from out of town, someone who also works in the nonprofit sector.

Always looking for ideas, I asked if she had suggestions for a future blog topic.

I wasn’t prepared for her answer.

“Why don’t you write about the sexual harassment of Development staff by donors?”

I wish I could tell you I had an immediate response. I didn’t.

Like many nonprofit leaders, I knew inappropriate behavior sometimes occurred. But I had never stopped to ask how common it was, how organizations responded or what it felt like for the people whose job it is to build relationships with donors.

So, I started asking questions.

What I heard surprised me—not because the stories were shocking, but because they were remarkably consistent.

Again and again, people described fundraising as a relationship-based profession. Development staff spend years learning how to build trust, cultivate donors and steward relationships. They receive training on making the ask, strengthening donor connections and achieving fundraising goals. What they rarely receive is guidance on what to do when a donor crosses a line.

The behavior itself wasn’t always dramatic. In fact, it was often subtle.

Comments about appearance. Being introduced as someone’s “hot little friend.” A hand placed a little too low on the back. Questions that had nothing to do with philanthropy. Advice to wear certain clothes to meetings. Individually, some incidents might be dismissed as awkward or inappropriate. Collectively, they paint a different picture.

One theme surfaced in nearly every conversation: power.

Development professionals work in a relationship-based business. They know they are expected to build relationships and meet fundraising goals. Donors know it, too. Most donor interactions are positive, respectful and deeply rewarding. But when someone behaves inappropriately, that power dynamic can make it difficult for staff to know how—or whether—to respond.

The interviews revealed something else.

The issue wasn’t simply the donor’s behavior.

It was the organization’s response.

Some people told me they were advised to “just put up with it.” Others heard, “That’s just how he is.” One fundraiser was told never to meet with a particular donor alone again—always bring someone else. While that advice may reduce risk, it also leaves the burden on the employee to adapt while the behavior remains unaddressed.

Then I heard a very different response.

After one fundraiser reported an inappropriate incident, her Executive Director simply said, “We don’t need their money.” The organization had a zero-tolerance policy, and leadership made it clear that no donation was worth compromising an employee’s dignity or safety.

Those six words have stayed with me.

Not because they solved a difficult situation, but because they communicated something profound.

Values.

As I continued researching the issue, I learned these conversations reflect a broader pattern. Research cited by the Association of Fundraising Professionals (AFP) has found that approximately one in four female fundraisers report experiencing sexual harassment during their careers, and in about 65% of those cases, the harassment involved a donor. AFP has publicly acknowledged that donor misconduct presents a unique challenge within the fundraising profession.

This isn’t a conversation about villainizing donors. The overwhelming majority of donors care deeply about the missions they support and treat nonprofit professionals with respect.

Nor is this a conversation about abandoning relationship-based fundraising. Relationships are, and always will be, at the heart of philanthropy.

It’s a conversation about leadership.

How does your organization respond when someone reports inappropriate behavior?

Does your staff know they will be believed?

Do your managers know how to respond?

Has your Board ever discussed where the organization’s boundaries are?

Perhaps the most telling comment I heard during my conversations wasn’t about donors at all.

It was this:

“I wish leaders would ask how the donor meeting went, not just ask whether we got the donation.”

That struck me because it reframes the conversation entirely.

Leadership isn’t tested when everything is going well.

Leadership is tested when organizational values and organizational revenue appear to collide.

Every nonprofit proudly displays its values on its website. But your staff will discover your real values not by reading your mission statement or employee handbook.

They’ll discover them by watching how leadership responds when someone crosses the line.

Leadership isn’t just about making difficult decisions. It’s about creating a culture where people know they matter. If this article sparked a conversation in your organization, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Last week I checked in with a prospective client to see whether the Board had reviewed my proposal for Board training.

I was expecting an update.

I got an episode of Nonprofit Survivor.

The Board Chair had decided he wanted to be involved in hiring staff. The Executive Director, an experienced leader who has successfully led the organization for 18 years, reminded him that hiring staff is an operational responsibility—not a governance one.

The conversation escalated.

The Executive Director finally said, “If this is how we’re going to operate, maybe it’s time for me to resign.”

Talk about throwing a bucket of ice water on the room.

Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed. Both sides stepped back, took a breath and, after some reflection, the Board Chair chose to resign.

If ever there were a Board in need of governance training . . .

But the situation reminded me of something I see over and over again in my consulting work:

The relationship between the Board Chair and the Executive Director can make—or break—an organization.

Who’s Really Steering the Ship?

The Board Chair has an incredibly important role, but it’s often misunderstood.

The Chair leads the Board.

The Executive Director leads the organization.

Those may sound like similar jobs. They aren’t.

A good Chair keeps Board members focused on governance, facilitates productive meetings, develops Board leadership and supports the Executive Director. They don’t hire staff, supervise employees or wander into the day-to-day operations because “I was just trying to help.”

I’ve seen organizations where the Chair treats the Board agenda like it’s their personal TED Talk.

I’ve seen others where the Executive Director builds the entire agenda without any input from Board leadership.

Neither is ideal.

The healthiest Boards build the agenda together.

Think Three-Legged Race

One of my favorite ways to describe the Chair and Executive Director relationship is a three-legged race.

Remember those?

Each person has one leg tied to the other. If one takes off running without the other, both end up face-first in the grass.

That’s governance.

The Chair and Executive Director have different responsibilities, but they have to move together.

That means regular communication.

Mutual trust.

Respect for each other’s roles.

And, yes, occasionally slowing down so you don’t trip each other.

One Question That Changes Everything

Years ago, I served as Board Chair of an independent school.

Every month, after committee meetings and Board business were wrapped up, I’d sit down with our Headmaster for a one-on-one conversation.

I always started with the same question:

“What’s keeping you awake at night?”

That simple question almost never produced a simple answer.

Sometimes we talked about finances.

Sometimes personnel.

Sometimes a struggling student or an unexpected opportunity.

But it always led to the conversation we actually needed to have—not just the one on the agenda.

To this day, I think it’s one of the most valuable questions a Board Chair can ask.

The Best Chairs Make Life Easier, Not Harder

The strongest nonprofit organizations aren’t led by a great Executive Director or a great Board Chair.

They’re led by a great partnership.

When each understands their role, communicates openly and genuinely wants the other to succeed, everyone benefits—including the people the organization exists to serve.

And, perhaps best of all . . .

Everyone sleeps a little better at night.

I’ve developed a Board Chair and Executive Director Partnership Agreement to help establish clear expectations, communication practices and healthy boundaries between these two critical leadership roles. It’s especially useful whenever there’s a new Board Chair or Executive Director.

If you’d like a copy, I’d be delighted to share it with you. Click here to access the Google Drive link.

Until next week!

P.S. Longtime readers may remember that I shared my dog Max’s cancer diagnosis back in February. Last Friday, I had to say goodbye. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge after eleven wonderful years of rescuing each other. He was the best boy, and I’ll miss him every day.

I love the idea of journaling. I buy the journal. I pick out the perfect pen. I imagine myself sitting quietly each morning reflecting on life’s great mysteries.

Then approximately four days later, the journal disappears onto a bookshelf.

Anyone else?

Recently, I found one of those abandoned journals from January 2022. Apparently, I was starting the new year with the best of intentions.

One prompt caught my attention:

“Do you like your job? Why or why not?”

For context, in January 2022, I was the Executive Director of Desert Best Friend’s Closet. We had just survived COVID, were preparing for our first in-person fundraiser since 2019 and my Board knew I would be retiring in June. The search for my successor was just beginning.

Here’s what I wrote:

Yes and no. I like interacting with clients, donors, volunteers, etc. That’s the fun part! I like leading my team and the impact (changing lives) we have in the community.

No — I hate asking people for money. It makes me uncomfortable. I procrastinate sometimes, which only makes the stress worse. I like being a “visionary” but hate having to deal with the “details” (my weakness). I do suffer to some degree from “imposter syndrome.”

Well.

Apparently January 2022 Connie had some feelings.

And yes, you read that correctly.

I hated asking people for money.

There. I said it.

The person now teaching fundraising workshops avoided fundraising conversations.

I loved meeting donors. I loved telling stories about our clients. I loved sharing the impact we were making in the community.

But the ask?

Cue the internal panic.

If I asked a room full of nonprofit leaders, Executive Directors and Board members to raise their hand if they’ve ever felt the same way, I suspect I’d see a lot of hands.

Maybe even a few enthusiastic two-handed waves.

So what changed?

I realized I was thinking about fundraising all wrong.

I had made “the ask” the entire story.

But asking for money is only one small part of fundraising.

Fundraising is not a transaction. It’s a relationship.

Long before you ask for a gift, you are:

• Identifying people who care about your mission

• Inviting them into your work

• Sharing stories of impact

• Building trust

• Showing gratitude

The ask should not feel like begging.

It should feel like an invitation:

“You care about this issue. We are doing something about it. Would you like to be part of the solution?”

That’s a very different conversation.

Keeping Donors Coming Back

One of the biggest mistakes organizations make is spending all their energy finding new donors while forgetting to nurture the ones who already raised their hands and said, “I believe in you.”

Donor relationships require care.

Think about any relationship in your life. If someone only contacted you when they needed something, how excited would you be to answer the phone?

Exactly.

Your donors are no different.

Want donors to stay connected?

Say thank you.
Not just an automated receipt. A real thank you. Let them know their gift mattered.

Share impact.
Donors don’t give because your organization has needs. They give because their generosity creates change.

Stay connected.
Invite them into the story before you invite them into another gift.

Make it personal.
A handwritten note, a phone call or a meaningful update can stand out in a world of automated everything.

And yes… ask again.

Your donors are not mind readers.

They may love your organization, believe in your mission and still need to be invited to give.

The key is that the ask happens as part of a relationship, not instead of one.

Still Nervous About Asking?

I understand. Truly.

My old journal has the receipts.

But fundraising does not have to make you break out in a cold sweat.

One of my favorite moments when teaching fundraising is watching nonprofit leaders realize:

Fundraising isn’t about asking people for money. It’s about building relationships, sharing your mission and inviting people to make a difference.

This summer, I’m teaching three live, virtual fundraising workshops through Academy GO’s Fundraising Academy.

Whether you are new to fundraising or simply want to feel more confident, these interactive sessions will provide practical tools you can use immediately.

I’d love to have you join me.

Session 1: Reducing Barriers to Fundraising – July 23

Session 2: Strategic Fundraising & Asking Styles – August 12

Session 3: Donor Development & Retention – September 9

All classes are 9:00 a.m.–12:00 p.m. PST (via Zoom)

So nonprofit leader, if the thought of fundraising keeps you awake at night, you’re not alone. My old journal proves I’ve been there too. Join me for these workshops, and let’s rethink fundraising together — fewer cold sweats, stronger relationships and hopefully a better night’s sleep.

A few days ago, I was having coffee with a colleague I’ll call “Bobby.” He’s the Development Director for a small, all-volunteer nonprofit with an annual budget of about $75,000.

The moment he sat down, I knew something had changed.

The last time we met, he was frustrated with the Board and wondering whether he should resign.

This time?

He was grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ve already met my fundraising goal for the year,” he proudly announced.

“Congratulations!” I said. “So...what’s next?”

“I’m done.”

I blinked.

“Done?”

“Yep. We budgeted $75,000. We’ve raised $75,000. Mission accomplished.”

I nearly spit out my coffee.

Now, before you think I’m picking on Bobby, I’m not. He and the Board have worked incredibly hard. Hitting your fundraising goal deserves celebration.

But stopping there?

That’s where I started asking consultant questions.

“What about building an operating reserve?”

“Nope.”

“What about hiring a part-time administrative assistant?”

“Nope.”

“What about expanding programs?”

“Nope.”

The Board was committed to remaining 100% volunteer and had no interest in adding paid staff.

That’s when I let out what I call my “consultant sigh.”

I’ve said this before, and I’ll happily say it again:

Being an all-volunteer organization doesn’t make you more noble. It usually just makes you more tired. (If this sounds vaguely familiar, I have written about it before. Click here).

Nonprofits are mission-driven organizations—but they’re still organizations (aka a business).

Someone still has to manage the finances.

Someone still has to file the 990.

Someone still has to maintain the website, oversee technology, write grants, recruit Board members, and keep everything moving forward.

Those aren’t glamorous jobs, but they’re essential.

I know because I’ve been there.

When I founded Desert Best Friend’s Closet, we were proud of being 100% volunteer-run. I wore that fact like a badge of honor.

Eventually, I learned something important.

Funders weren’t impressed because we had no paid staff. They were impressed when we demonstrated that we were building an organization capable of sustaining its mission.

Here’s another myth worth busting:

A nonprofit is absolutely allowed to end the year with money in the bank.

In fact, I’d argue it’s good governance.

The word “nonprofit” simply means the organization doesn’t exist to distribute profits to owners or shareholders. It does not mean every dollar must be spent by December 31 (or by the close of your fiscal year).

Quite the opposite.

Healthy nonprofits build reserves.

Healthy nonprofits invest in technology.

Healthy nonprofits strengthen leadership.

Healthy nonprofits improve their fundraising systems.

Healthy nonprofits prepare for tomorrow—not just today.

So what should a Board do if fundraising exceeds expectations?

Consider questions like these:

• Are any of the funds donor-restricted?

• Do we have an adequate operating reserve?

• Are there technology or infrastructure improvements we’ve been postponing?

• Could we invest in leadership development or strategic planning?

• Should we pay down debt?

• How can these additional funds help us serve our mission more effectively over the next several years?

Those are Board conversations worth having.

One of my favorite concepts is capacity building.

Think of your nonprofit as a tree. Everyone admires the branches—the programs, services, and visible impact. But what keeps the tree standing? The roots.

Leadership.

Governance.

Technology.

Financial reserves.

Staff development.

Strong roots may not be exciting, but they’re what allow an organization to weather storms and continue serving its community.

So if your nonprofit ends the year with a surplus, don’t panic.

Celebrate.

Then ask your Board one simple question:

“How can we invest these resources to strengthen our mission for years to come?”

That’s a much better conversation than asking, “How quickly can we spend the money?”

A Gentle Invitation

If your Board is wrestling with questions about financial sustainability, capacity building, or planning for the future, I’d be happy to help. Sometimes an outside perspective can help Boards move from simply meeting this year’s budget to building an organization that thrives for years to come.

Sweet dreams, nonprofit leader.

You see, while I’m a nonprofit leadership strategist by day, in the evenings I teach karate—primarily to neurodivergent youth and young adults.

Yes, I know. It’s an odd combination.

But honestly, there is far more crossover between Boards and Black Belts than you might imagine.

Last week, four of our students tested for their Black Belts. Three are para-athletes with Autism. One of them trains alongside his older brother because their dream is that one day the younger brother will become his coach.

And if that doesn’t melt your heart, I don’t know what will.

Our dojo partners with United Cerebral Palsy of the Inland Empire, and we spent the day before setting up the tatami mats and helping the students become comfortable in a different environment. We walked them through the process and tried to remove as many surprises as possible.

Because let’s be honest—life provides enough surprises on its own.

Among the group was Tabitha.

Tabitha is fierce.

She completely outshined the boys. Powerful. Graceful. Confident. Even they acknowledged she looked amazing. Keep in mind, our dojo is run by a female Sensei, and many of the instructors—including me—are women. In a sport still dominated by men, she was a force.

Then came the plot twist no one wanted.

That evening, Tabitha fell at home and broke her foot.

The night before her Black Belt exam.

I cried.

We all did.

But Tabitha wasn’t interested in pity. Sensei recognized what she had already accomplished and awarded her Black Belt based on the achievement she had demonstrated the previous day.

The next morning, she arrived in a wheelchair, sporting crutches, a pink haircut, and the biggest smile in the room.

If you’ve never witnessed a Black Belt test, they’re no joke. They are physically demanding, mentally exhausting, and require years of practice and perseverance.

In other words, they’re a lot like nonprofit leadership.

And then there were the boys.

I led the warmups, carefully trying to prevent injuries. After all, one broken foot for the week was plenty.

Matthew had forgotten his Bo staff. Since we teach Kobudo (Okinawan weapons) as well as karate, his poor dad had to make an emergency trip home. I gently suggested to Matthew that perhaps packing everything the night before might be a useful strategy.

Funny how that advice applies to fundraisers, Board retreats, and annual appeals, too.

The students performed beautifully.

But the moment that stole the show belonged to Emiliano.

You know that little voice in your head that talks you through difficult moments?

“Keep going.”

“You know this.”

“One more step.”

Most of us do that silently.

Not Emiliano.

He narrated the whole thing.

Every encouragement.

Every reminder.

Every coaching cue.

Out loud.

The judges’ table was smiling because there he was, literally coaching himself through his kata.

And suddenly, I thought, “Maybe he’s onto something.”

Because too many nonprofit leaders have an inner voice that sounds less like a coach and more like an angry Board member.

“You forgot something.”

“You’re not ready.”

“This won’t work.”

“Everyone else has it figured out.”

What if we replaced that soundtrack with something kinder?

What if we coached ourselves the way we coach others?

What if we spoke to ourselves the way Emiliano does?

The late Broadway lyricist Oscar Hammerstein II once wrote:

“By your pupils you’ll be taught.”

Every time I step onto that dojo floor, I’m reminded how true that is.

These athletes face challenges every day.

And yet they still show up.

Ready to try.

Ready to fail.

Ready to learn.

Ready to begin again.

Nonprofit leaders, maybe that’s our assignment, too.

Show up like Tabitha.

Prepare like Matthew.

Coach yourself like Emiliano.

At the end of every karate class, I lead the students in a simple mantra:

“I am smarter than I think.
Stronger than I feel.
Braver than I seem.
I can do hard things.”

And nonprofit leader?

You can, too.

A Small Invitation

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, losing sleep over a Board issue, or wondering how you’re going to get through the next challenge, you don’t have to figure it out alone.

I spend my days helping nonprofit leaders navigate governance questions, strategic decisions, and leadership challenges that can feel impossible in the moment.

If you’d like a sounding board, I offer complimentary 30-minute discovery calls.

Because whether it’s a Black Belt exam or a Board retreat…

We can do hard things.

And sometimes it’s nice to have a coach—or a Sensei—in your corner.

Sweet dreams, nonprofit leader.

PS—Here’s a link to the local KMIR NBC Palm Springs coverage of our athletes.

“Connie, are you using AI?”

Usually, it’s followed by one of two reactions.

Either:
“AI is the greatest thing since online donations!”

Or:
“AI is going to destroy humanity, the environment, and probably annual reports.”

There doesn’t seem to be much middle ground.

As someone who has spent decades helping nonprofits write grants, build Boards, and navigate the occasional organizational crisis, I tend to fall somewhere in the middle.

AI isn’t magic. It’s a tool.

And just like a power drill, it can either build something amazing or leave a very large hole in the wall.

When I taught Grant Writing Essentials for UCR Extension, I shared two grant proposals with my students.

One had been written entirely by AI.

The other had been written by an experienced grant writer who then used AI to improve clarity and stay within the dreaded character limits that seem designed by people who have never actually written a grant.

The responses were fascinating.

New grant writers loved the AI-generated proposal.

“It sounds so professional!”

“It uses impressive words!”

“It flows beautifully!”

The experienced grant writers had a different reaction.

“There’s a lot of pretty language,” one student observed, “but it doesn’t actually say anything.”

Exactly.

AI is only as good as the information you give it.

Feed it generic information, and you’ll get generic results. Feed it thoughtful, well-organized information, and suddenly it becomes a remarkably useful assistant.

Which brings me to Jeff Harrison of SwingPoint Media.

Jeff recently spoke at my local AFP chapter about using AI for marketing and communications. His philosophy is refreshingly simple: the 10-80-10 Rule.

Spend 10% of your effort giving AI the right information.

Let AI do 80% of the heavy lifting.

Then spend the final 10% reviewing, editing, fact-checking, and making sure it still sounds like your organization instead of a Victorian novelist who overuses “moreover.”

I love that approach.

Grant writers know there is an incredible amount of repetition in our work.

One funder asks:

“Describe the need or problem your organization seeks to address.”

Another asks:

“Why is this program important to your community?”

Those questions sound almost identical, but they’re not. One wants data and evidence. The other wants impact and consequences.

Most of us end up copying and pasting from previous proposals while desperately hoping we remembered to update the statistics and remove references to 2023.

Jeff recognized that challenge and created two resources specifically for nonprofits.

The Grant Intelligence Capture Workbook helps organizations gather the stories, statistics, financial information, outcomes, and organizational details that appear in proposal after proposal.

Instead of hunting through old files and annual reports every time a grant is due, you have one organized source of truth.

He also developed the Nonprofit Voice & Story Capture System, which helps organizations capture something AI can’t invent on its own—your authentic voice.

That’s important because donors don’t support algorithms. They support people, missions, and stories.

Yes, completing these workbooks takes time.

But think of it as meal prep for your fundraising. Do the work once, and you’ll save yourself countless hours later.

If you’re completely new to AI, here’s one simple tip that makes an enormous difference (click here to download an AI Cheat Sheet).

Give it a role. Instead of asking: “Write a donor thank-you letter.”

Try:

“Act as an experienced nonprofit development director who writes warm, conversational donor communications that inspire long-term relationships.”

You’ll be amazed at the difference.

And since we’re being honest, I should probably confess something.

I use AI regularly.

I use ChatGPT—whom I’ve affectionately named “Chad”—for research, strategy sessions, brainstorming, and occasionally rewriting something when my inner critic starts whispering that I wasn’t an English major.

(For the record, Chad is very patient.)

He also challenges my assumptions, reminds me not to negotiate against myself, and has become surprisingly opinionated about nonprofit governance.

No, AI won’t replace experienced nonprofit leaders.

It won’t build relationships with donors.

It won’t facilitate a strategic planning retreat.

It certainly won’t navigate Board politics.

But it can help you organize information, overcome writer’s block, and spend less time staring at a blinking cursor and more time advancing your mission.

And if that means the grant gets submitted a day early, the donor letter goes out on time, and you actually sleep through the night...

Well, I think that’s technology being used exactly as it should be.

Resources

A special thank you to Jeff Harrison of SwingPoint Media for generously creating and sharing the Grant Intelligence Capture Workbook and the Nonprofit Voice & Story Capture System, practical tools that help nonprofits organize their information and use AI more effectively while preserving their authentic voice. I’ve included links for anyone who would like to explore them.

P.S. If you have trouble downloading the documents from Google Drive, just send me an email and I’ll be happy to help.

Every so often, I revisit a previous edition of Hey Nonprofit Leader because the topic is simply too important to stay buried in the archives.

This week’s post first appeared in May of last year, but good governance never goes out of style. In fact, with nonprofit leaders facing increasing financial pressures, Board turnover, and heightened public scrutiny, a strong ethical foundation may be more important than ever.

So, whether you’re reading this for the first time or taking a second look, I hope it reminds you that the best time to address an ethical issue is before it becomes tomorrow’s headline.

After all, a little preparation today can lead to a much better night’s sleep.

If you’ve been in the nonprofit world for more than five minutes, you’ve probably encountered an ethical gray area or two. A situation pops up that makes you uncomfortable—long-time donor wants a seat at staff meetings “just to stay in the loop.” A volunteer coordinator starts waiving class fees for friends without informing leadership. A donor makes a special request that feels... off. Or someone innocently asks, “Can we just use this designated donation to pay for something else?”

And suddenly, you’re wide awake at 2 a.m. wondering if your 501(c)(3) status is about to vanish in a puff of smoke.

The Basics: Your Org Exists for the Public, Not Privilege

Let’s start at the top. As a nonprofit, your organization has been granted a special tax-exempt status by the IRS (and your state). It comes with privileges—but also responsibilities. The IRS isn’t just handing out gold stars and moving on. They expect you to operate within a very specific ethical and legal framework.

Here’s the CliffsNotes version:

You Must Be Organized and Operated for Exempt Purposes

Your mission has to be rooted in the “greater good,” not personal gain.
That means:

• Your activities should serve a charitable, educational, religious, scientific, or similar public purpose.

• You’re not here to enrich insiders.

• Your founding documents must reflect this (yes, the IRS actually reads your bylaws).

No Inurement Allowed

Translation: No private benefits.

• No earnings to individuals.

• No sweet under-the-table perks.

• No development director offering VIP access to an event sponsor’s cousin just to “keep the relationship warm.”

Even well-intentioned favors can cross ethical lines.

Stay Out of Politics (Mostly)

You can advocate for your mission, but:

• Don’t endorse candidates.

• Don’t funnel money into campaigns.

• And don’t post political rants from the organization’s official account. (Yes, I’ve seen it happen.)

You Must Pass Two IRS Tests—Organizational & Operational

• Organizational Test: Your governing docs must reflect a tax-exempt purpose.

• Operational Test: Your activities must fulfill that purpose—not someone’s personal passion project.

What If You Suspect Something’s Off?

Let’s say you’re the Executive Director and your ethical “Spidey senses” are tingling. Maybe your event planner insists on using her cousin’s catering company, no bids, no questions asked, or maybe a Board member casually shares confidential details from a recent client intake during a community event.

Here’s your playbook:

1. Acknowledge it. Don’t wave it off as “no big deal.”

2. Investigate. Get the facts, the context, and the paperwork.

3. Consult Policies. You do have a conflict of interest policy and code of ethics, right? (If not—call me.)

4. Get Legal Advice. Your attorney is there to protect the organization, not individual egos.

5. Tell the Board. Yes—even if someone tells you not to. Transparency > turmoil.

Train Your Board Now, Sleep Better Later

Here’s the truth: most ethical messes are preventable with clear expectations and proactive education.

• Make sure Board members sign a Code of Ethics and Conflict Disclosure Form annually.

• Use your Form 990 as a roadmap—if the IRS asks about policies, you should have them.

• Train your Board on what good governance looks like—not just once, but regularly.

Need Help Getting It Right?

I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the ethically ambiguous. If you’d like sample conflict of interest or ethics forms, or if your Board could benefit from a training session, let’s chat.

One phone call could help nonprofit leaders like you sort through the sleepless-night stuff. Because when your governance is solid and your policies are clear?
You can sleep better at night.

“I got it!” he announced.

“What did you get?” someone asked.

“The grant! We got the grant!”

Not just any grant, either.

A $75,000 grant.

The room erupted in congratulations. High-fives were exchanged. A few people may have even hugged. For Jeff and his young organization, this wasn’t just funding. It was validation. It was momentum. It was proof that someone believed in their mission enough to invest in it.

As the evening wound down and people began heading home, Jeff quietly asked if I had a few minutes to talk.

Of course.

The smile was gone.

In its place was something I hadn’t noticed earlier.

Panic.

“What if we mess this up?” he asked.

Now, before we go any further, let me tell you a secret.

Almost every nonprofit leader has this moment.

We spend so much time worrying about getting the grant that nobody talks about what happens after the award letter arrives.

The truth is that receiving a grant can be a little like adopting a puppy.

At first, it’s all excitement. Then reality arrives. Now you’re responsible for keeping something alive.

Jeff’s concerns came pouring out.

What if they couldn’t meet the grant requirements? What if they missed a deadline?What if the program didn’t achieve everything they promised? What if the funder wanted the money back?

By this point, Jeff was practically hyperventilating.

I suggested a few deep breaths and reminded him of something important:

A grant award is not the end of the process. It’s the beginning of a relationship.

And like most relationships, things tend to go better when you communicate, stay organized, and don’t disappear when things get difficult.

The first thing I encouraged Jeff to do was something surprisingly simple.

Say thank you. Not a rushed email. Not a generic form letter. A genuine thank-you. Call the funder. Write a note. Tell them what their investment means to your organization and the people you serve.

Funders are people. They want to know their dollars are making a difference. A little gratitude goes a long way toward building trust.

Then I told him to do something that isn’t nearly as exciting.

Get organized. Immediately. Not next month. Not after the first program launch.

Now.

Create a reporting calendar. Track deadlines. Set reminders. Document expenses. Save receipts. Create folders. Create backup folders.

Future Jeff will thank Present Jeff. And unlike most nonprofit crises, this one is entirely preventable.

Next comes my favorite piece of grant advice:

Read the grant guidelines. Then read them again. Then hand them to someone else and make sure they read them too. Most grant problems don’t happen because nonprofits are careless.

They happen because nonprofits are busy.

A reporting deadline gets missed. A budget restriction gets overlooked. A required deliverable gets forgotten. None of these mistakes are malicious.

But they can damage a relationship you’ve worked hard to build.

And speaking of relationships, one of the biggest mistakes organizations make is waiting until a problem becomes a crisis before contacting the funder. I wrote about When the Grant Doesn’t Go as Planned previously (as it is more common than you think!).

Life happens. Staff leave. Programs change. Timelines shift. Economies wobble.

The organizations that maintain strong funder relationships aren’t the ones that never encounter problems. They’re the ones that communicate early when they do. Funders generally appreciate honesty far more than surprises.

Finally, I encouraged Jeff to document everything.

Take photos. Collect testimonials. Save survey results. Track outcomes. Capture stories.

Not only will this make future reporting easier, but it will also provide the raw material for future grant applications.

Success leaves clues. Document them.

By the time our conversation ended, Jeff looked noticeably calmer.

The grant hadn’t changed. The expectations hadn’t changed. The deadlines hadn’t changed. But his perspective had.

Because the truth is this:

Being awarded a grant should be a celebration, not the beginning of months of anxiety. With the right systems, communication, and planning, grants become what they were intended to be: A tool to advance your mission.

Not a reason to lose sleep.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by grant reporting requirements, compliance language, evaluation metrics, or funder expectations, I’d be happy to help. Together we can build the systems that keep your organization on track and your funders happy.

After all, nonprofit leader, receiving a grant should help you sleep better at night—not keep you awake wondering what comes next.

This is the meeting where Boards elect officers, approve budgets, review financials, discuss strategic goals, and collectively pretend they’re definitely going to start meetings on time next year.

It’s also the season of phrases like:
“Wait… our bylaws say WHAT?”
and
“How long has Bob actually been on this Board?”

(Answer: long enough to remember when the organization faxed donor letters.)

Now before some of you clutch your pearls and fire off an email defending Bob, let me be clear: institutional memory matters. Dedicated long-term Board members can be incredible assets to an organization. But if your Board roster hasn’t changed since the invention of Facebook, we may need to have a gentle governance conversation.

One of the least glamorous — but most important — governance best practices is Board term limits.

Yes, I said it.

I know term limits can be controversial. Every time the topic comes up, someone inevitably says:
“But what if we lose good people?”

Well… ideally, your organization should never be one resignation away from collapse.

That’s not sustainability.
That’s organizational Jenga.

Strong nonprofits build systems, leadership pipelines, and healthy governance practices that allow new voices to emerge while still honoring experience and continuity.

And frankly, term limits are not punishment. They are protection.

They protect the organization from stagnation.
They protect against concentration of power.
They protect exhausted Board members from burnout.
And sometimes — let’s be honest — they protect everyone else from that one Board member who hasn’t had a new idea since 2012 but still insists on speaking first at every meeting.

One of the healthiest things a Board can do is regularly invite fresh perspectives into the room.

New Board members bring:

• different lived experiences

• new community connections

• updated professional expertise

• fresh energy

• and often a willingness to ask questions everyone else stopped asking years ago

That matters.

Because the longer a Board remains unchanged, the easier it becomes to fall into:
“We’ve always done it this way.”

And as I’ve said before, those six words have quietly destroyed more innovation than almost anything else in the nonprofit sector.

Now, before anyone panics, term limits do not mean tossing experienced leaders out the door with a sheet cake and a handshake.

Healthy organizations find ways to keep talented people engaged:

• advisory councils

• committees

• task forces

• fundraising support

• mentoring new Board members

• emeritus roles

The goal is not exile.
The goal is renewal.

And while we’re talking about governance best practices, let’s also discuss meetings for a moment.

Not all Board meetings are created equal.

There are regular meetings, annual meetings, special meetings, organizational meetings, emergency meetings, and then there are the meetings that absolutely could have been an email but somehow lasted 97 minutes anyway.

Annual meetings are especially important because they create natural opportunities for Boards to:

• evaluate leadership

• review Board composition

• revisit committee structures

• discuss succession planning

• and assess whether the current governance model still serves the organization’s mission

This is also the perfect time to ask difficult but necessary questions:

• Do we have the right people around the table?

• Are Board expectations clear?

• Do Board members understand their roles?

• Are we evaluating our effectiveness honestly?

• Are we recruiting intentionally or simply filling seats with whoever agreed fastest?

Because governance isn’t static.
Or at least it shouldn’t be.

Strong Boards evolve as organizations evolve.

And honestly? One of the biggest warning signs I see as a consultant is a Board that resists all change in the name of “stability.” Stability is important. But when stability becomes rigidity, organizations stop growing.

Or worse — they stop noticing they need to grow.

This is exactly why tools like Board self-evaluations, Board job descriptions, and Board profile grids are so valuable. They help organizations move beyond assumptions and actually examine whether their governance structure reflects the needs of the organization today — not ten years ago.

A stronger, healthier Board makes better decisions — and ultimately leads to fewer sleepless nights for everyone involved.

So as your organization heads into annual meeting season, maybe this is the year to ask a few brave governance questions.

And if your Board needs help navigating term limits, Board development, succession planning, Board recruitment, or governance structure, I’d be happy to help.

I offer:

• Board job descriptions

• Board self-evaluation tools

• Board Profile Worksheets

• and Board Profile Grids designed to help organizations identify strengths, gaps, and opportunities for growth

Because healthy governance isn’t about keeping the same seats filled forever.

It’s about making sure the mission continues to thrive long after all of us eventually leave the table. And that, my dear reader, should help you sleep a little better tonight.

Sources:

Board Source

Charity Lawyer

Spoiler alert: I did not.

The Board was made up of women from all over the valley, representing different industries and backgrounds, but united around the mission. And then there was Karen.

Every. Single. Meeting.

No matter the topic, Karen had a counterpoint. New idea? Karen had concerns. Quick decision? Karen wanted more discussion. Someone suggested blue napkins? I’m fairly certain Karen would have asked whether we had considered green.

Honestly, she drove me nuts.

At the time, I thought she was simply being difficult. Meetings ran longer because of her questions. Decisions took more time. I remember thinking, “Why can’t she just go along with the group like everyone else?”

Then one day, I got to know her better.

Karen had served on far more Boards than I had, and she explained that she intentionally played “devil’s advocate.” She worried about what happens when people simply agree with the loudest voice in the room. She worried about “group think.” Her belief was that healthy disagreement often leads to stronger decisions because it forces people to think more critically instead of simply nodding along.

Suddenly, Karen wasn’t annoying.

She was brilliant.

And honestly? The older I get and the more Boards I work with, the more I realize Karen was absolutely right.

Group think is incredibly dangerous in nonprofit governance because it creates the illusion of unity while quietly suffocating critical thinking. People stop asking hard questions. Concerns remain unspoken. Board members begin self-censoring because nobody wants to be “that person” who disrupts consensus or makes things uncomfortable.

And let’s be honest, nonprofit Boards are already uncomfortable enough. We’re discussing budgets, fundraising gaps, staffing challenges, strategic priorities, and sometimes whether the coffee in the break room qualifies as a controlled substance.

But here’s where it gets serious.

When Boards lack diversity of thought, background, age, profession, gender, race, lived experience, or communication style, decision-making suffers. If everyone around the table has similar experiences and perspectives, the Board may unintentionally create pressure to conform. Over time, members stop voicing objections, not because they agree, but because they don’t want to create tension or risk exclusion from the social dynamics of the group.

That’s when dangerous things happen.

Boards begin rationalizing poor decisions instead of reconsidering them. Leaders surround themselves with “yes people.” Concerns get whispered in parking lots after meetings instead of respectfully discussed in the boardroom where they belong.

And let me say this clearly: parking lot governance is not governance.

If Board members only share their real opinions after the meeting adjourns, the organization has a culture problem, not a communication problem.

This is where strong Board leadership matters tremendously.

A skilled Board Chair understands that healthy governance requires creating space for differing viewpoints. Not performative agreement. Not rushed consensus. Not “any objections?” while already reaching for the gavel.

Real discussion.

The best Board Chairs actively invite quieter members into the conversation. They normalize respectful disagreement. They understand that challenging an idea is not the same thing as challenging a person.

Frankly, the strongest Boards I’ve seen are not the ones where everyone agrees immediately. They’re the ones where people feel safe enough to disagree thoughtfully before moving forward together.

That’s also why Board diversity matters so much. Diversity is not simply about optics or checking boxes. It’s about ensuring the organization hears multiple perspectives before making important decisions. Different lived experiences create better questions, better discussions, and ultimately, better governance.

One practical way to strengthen your Board is to intentionally evaluate who is already at the table and who may be missing. What skills are represented? What perspectives? What professional backgrounds? What community voices?

Sometimes the gaps become glaringly obvious once you actually map them out.

And if your Board feels stuck, tense, overwhelmed, or trapped in a cycle of group think, it may be time to bring in a neutral third party to help facilitate conversations and rebuild healthy governance practices.

That’s not a sign of failure.

It’s a sign of leadership.

Because strong Boards can weather almost any crisis. Weak Boards, especially those unwilling to challenge themselves, often struggle to protect the very mission they were created to serve.

A stronger, healthier Board makes better decisions — and ultimately leads to fewer sleepless nights for everyone involved.

PS—I have two free tools that will help you create a Board with diverse skills and perspectives. 1) Board profile worksheet and 2) Board profile grid. Both are in Excel and full editable so that you can add skills that fit your organization. If you have any trouble downloading these from Google Drive, just shoot me an email and I will send them to you.

Okay, fine. He was in full panic mode.

He had just been asked to run the paddle raise at an upcoming event. You know—the “fund-a-need,” the part of the evening where the room is supposed to come alive and people start raising paddles at $10,000 like it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do before dessert.

Here’s the twist.

He has opinions about paddle raises. Strong ones. He’s been known to critique them—quietly (and sometimes not so quietly)—when they don’t go well.

And now?

He was the guy with the microphone.

Three days out.

No real connection to the organization. No deep understanding of the donor base. Just a general sense of the mission… and a growing realization that he might be in over his head.

“Good heavens,” he said. “What have I gotten myself into?”

Here’s the part most people don’t see

Yes, there are professional auctioneers and fundraisers who can walk into a room and make it feel effortless. Like magic.

But it’s not magic.

It’s months of work.

The good ones are meeting with donors weeks—sometimes months—in advance. They’re helping secure those leadership gifts before the event ever begins. They’re identifying who can give at $25,000… who can give at $10,000… and who might be willing to match.

They’re building relationships. Setting expectations. Creating momentum.

By the time they step on stage, the outcome isn’t a surprise.

It’s a plan.

And when that work doesn’t happen?

You get the moment.

You know the one.

The emcee smiles, takes a breath, and confidently says:

“Who will join us at $10,000?”

And then…

Silence.

Not a cough.
Not a shifting chair.
Just the sound of everyone suddenly very interested in their napkin.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth—most of us have been in that room. Watching. Hoping someone else raises their paddle first.

My colleague?

He lived that moment.

Not because he lacked charm.
Not because he didn’t care.
Not because the mission wasn’t compelling.

Because the groundwork wasn’t there.

And no amount of personality can fix that in real time.

A quick aside (because I can’t help myself)

I attend a lot of nonprofit events. It’s part of the job… and part of being in a community I care about.

Which means I watch these things with a slightly more… discerning eye.

Last week, I attended an event that had me thinking.

The silent auction? No bid sheets. Just QR codes.

Now, I understand the appeal. It’s efficient. It’s modern. It probably saves a tree or two.

But I missed the energy.

The hovering.
The playful competition.
The “Oh no you didn’t just outbid me” moment.

Instead, everyone was quietly scrolling on their phones.

Same with the paddle raise—also done digitally.

And while I appreciate the convenience, something gets lost when giving becomes… private.

Because here’s the truth:

A little peer pressure?
Not a bad thing in a room full of people who already care about your mission.

The real issue isn’t the technology

It’s the temptation to skip steps.

Especially for smaller, volunteer-led organizations (and I say this with love).

All the energy goes into:

• the program

• the logistics

• the event itself

And not enough into:

• identifying donors

• building relationships

• cultivating support before the event

Somewhere along the way, we convinced ourselves that if we just plan a beautiful event… the money will follow.

It won’t.

Because events don’t raise money.

Relationships do.

And when those relationships haven’t been built—when expectations haven’t been set—you’re not hosting a fundraiser.

You’re hosting a really nice party… with a very expensive bill at the end.

So what’s the takeaway?

If you want your next event to feel less stressful (and more successful):

Start earlier.
Build relationships.
Set expectations.

And please… don’t hand someone a microphone three days before the event and hope for the best.

Even if they’re charming.

Especially if they’ve been known to critique others.

A gentle nudge before you try to sleep tonight

If any part of this feels a little familiar—you’re not alone.

And if you’re planning an event and wondering whether you’re truly set up for success (or just hoping it all comes together on the day of), it might be worth taking a step back.

I’ve put together a couple of simple tools to help:

• A “Should You Even Have an Event?” decision tool

• A Month-by-Month Event Planning Guide

• Paddle Bid Numbers

They’re practical. No fluff. And they might save you a few sleepless nights. Need a live person (not a bot) to chat with? Contact me for a free 30-minute discovery call.

Because with the right planning—and the right preparation—that moment of silence?

Doesn’t have to happen.

Sweet dreams.

Ever notice how different the words “father” and “mother” feel when we use them as verbs?

“To father” often refers to the biological act.
But “to mother”? That’s a whole different job description.

It’s nurturing.
It’s anticipating needs before they’re spoken.
It’s showing up—again and again and again—even when you’re exhausted and no one says thank you.

Now, before I sound like a 1960s time capsule (which… fair), I’ll say this: I love that today, “mothering” isn’t limited to moms. Dads, step-parents, grandparents, mentors, friends—we all know people who have stepped into that role in powerful ways.

And honestly? Nonprofit leaders… you’re doing a lot of this too.

Let’s talk about that “job description”

Back when I was Executive Director at Desert Best Friend’s Closet, I used to share a video every Mother’s Day. It tied in perfectly with our mission.

Here’s the setup:

A group of producers create a fake job listing and interview real candidates.

The role requires:

• 24/7 availability

• No breaks

• No holidays

• High emotional demands

• And… no salary

One candidate actually asks, “Is that even legal?”

And the answer?

👉 It’s motherhood.

🎥 Watch here

Sound familiar?

Because if you’re a nonprofit leader, you might be thinking:

“Wait… I’ve seen this job before.”

The emotional labor.
The constant problem-solving.
The invisible work.
The showing up—especially when it’s hard.

It’s not the same, of course. But there’s a thread there.

And just like motherhood, so much of what you do:

• goes unseen

• goes unthanked

• and somehow… still gets done

This is actually one of the most common dynamics I help Boards and Executive Directors navigate—because when roles aren’t clear, someone always ends up carrying more than their share. If you see yourself here, we should talk.

Here’s your gentle reminder this week

If you have someone in your life who has “mothered” you in any way:

Call them.
Text them.
Thank them.

Not because it’s a holiday.

But because that kind of care?
That kind of consistency?
That kind of showing up?

It deserves to be recognized.

And one more thing (for you)

If you’re the one doing the “mothering” in your organization—holding it all together, anticipating needs, carrying the emotional weight…

Take a breath.

You don’t have to do it all alone.
And you don’t have to do it all perfectly.

(Yes, I know. Easier said than done.)

Final thought before you try to sleep tonight

Some of the most important roles in our lives don’t come with:

• titles

• job descriptions

• or compensation

But they shape everything.

So here’s to the people who show up anyway.

Sweet dreams—and maybe a little extra appreciation this weekend.

We’ve talked about how early childhood lessons about money shape our comfort with asking. We’ve busted a few stubborn fundraising myths. And we’ve looked at what actually works (hint: it’s probably not that email blast you sent at 4:59pm on a Friday).

Today, let’s shift gears a bit.

Let’s talk about who’s getting it right.

A Question That Stumps the Room (Almost Every Time)

I recently sat in on a fundraising workshop (yes, even veteran consultants sharpen their tools), and the facilitator asked:

“Which nonprofit sector raises the most money?”

The room buzzed.

“Higher Ed?”
“Arts & Culture?”
“Animals. It’s definitely animals.”

Wrong.
Wrong.
Still wrong.

The real answer?

Faith-based organizations.

Cue the collective pause.

So… What Do They Know That We Don’t?

It turns out they’re not just praying for donations.

They’re asking.
Clearly.
Consistently.
And without apology.

Here’s what they do that most nonprofits hesitate to do:

They ask—every single time they gather

No guilt. No awkwardness. Just consistency. Every gathering becomes an opportunity to give.

They ask everyone

No one is pre-screened. No one is quietly written off as “not a major donor.”

They ask for meaningful gifts

In many traditions, a 10% tithe is the expectation. Bold? Yes. But it resets what “normal” looks like.

They normalize giving

It’s not a side conversation. It’s part of the culture. Supporting the mission is simply what members do.

They offer multiple pathways

Weekly giving. Special appeals. Programs. Projects. People can give to what resonates—and they do.

They build real relationships

This is the big one. People are known. Seen. Connected. So when the ask comes, it’s not transactional—it’s relational.

Before You Say “But That’s Different…”

Yes. Faith-based organizations are unique.

But here’s the part that translates: They’ve removed the emotional barriers around giving.

No awkwardness.
No overthinking.
No tiptoeing around the ask.

And that’s where many nonprofits get stuck. None of this is complicated—but it does require a shift in mindset.

So… What Can You Borrow (Steal Feels a Little Harsh)?

If you want to sleep a little better at night, try this:

• Ask consistently. Not once a year. Not just at year-end.

• Ask broadly. Don’t decide for your donors. Let them decide.

• Offer variety. Different people connect to different parts of your mission.

• Normalize giving. Make it part of your culture—not a special event.

• Build real relationships. Not just transactions.

One Quick Observation (From the Field)

This is actually one of the most common patterns I see when working with nonprofit Boards:

A handful of people quietly carry the fundraising load… while everyone else waits for the “right time” to ask.

Spoiler alert: there is no perfect time.

There’s just the next opportunity.

Final Thought Before You Try to Sleep Tonight

Faith-based organizations don’t shy away from fundraising.

They embrace it as part of their mission.

And as a result?

They’re not lying awake wondering if donors will give.
They’re creating environments where giving is expected.

A Gentle Nudge

If this feels a little too familiar—you’re not alone.

And if your organization is still trying to figure out how to lower those fundraising barriers (without making everyone uncomfortable in the process), that’s work I spend a lot of time helping Boards and leaders navigate. Contact me for a free 30-minute discovery call.

No pressure. Just a conversation.

You could be sleeping a little better too.

Let me tell you a quick story.

A few weeks ago, I got a call from a Board Chair. Nice guy. Smart. Successful in his “real job.” Newly minted nonprofit Board Chair.

And… completely unaware that the organization actually had to follow its bylaws.

Yes. Really.

Somewhere along the way, decisions had been made—good intentions, of course—that didn’t quite line up with what was written in their governing documents. Board terms? A little flexible. Voting procedures? Let’s just say… creative. Quorum? We’ll circle back on that.

And now?

The Board is frustrated.
The Chair is confused.
And I’m getting the call that starts with:

“So… I think we may have a bylaws situation.”

(Translation: We absolutely have a bylaws situation.)

Here’s the thing…

Bylaws are not just a dusty document sitting in a Google Drive folder labeled “Important Stuff.”

They are your organization’s operating agreement.

They answer three very important questions:

• Who makes decisions?

• How are decisions made?

• What happens when things go sideways?

If your bylaws don’t clearly answer those questions—or worse, if no one is actually using them—you’re not leading. You’re improvising.

And improvising works great… until it doesn’t.

The Problem I See (Over and Over Again)

Most bylaws aren’t wrong.

They’re just:

• Outdated

• Ignored

• Or copied from another organization that operates nothing like yours

Classic “template syndrome.” (Note—the original bylaws we used when forming Desert Best Friend’s Closet were copied and pasted from another organization. Seriously!).

And here’s where it gets tricky…

Your bylaws may meet the legal minimum (structure, meetings, officers, quorum, etc.)

But that’s just the floor.

What’s often missing is what actually makes an organization function well:

• Clear distinction between governance and operations

• Board expectations (yes… including fundraising)

• Realistic meeting practices (hello, virtual meetings)

• A clear relationship between the Board and the Executive Director

When that clarity is missing?

You get confusion.
You get frustration.
You get that phone call.

A Quick Reality Check

Let me ask you a question I ask almost every client:

“Do your bylaws reflect how you actually operate today?”

If you had to pause for even a second… You’ve got your answer.

Here’s What I Recommend (And Yes, This Is the Fix)

Review your bylaws every 1–2 years.

Not every decade.
Not when there’s a crisis.
Not when a Board member says, “Wait… can we even do that?”

Every 1–2 years.

Because your organization evolves:

• Leadership changes

• Programs shift

• Board dynamics change

• The world (hello, Zoom) definitely changes

Your bylaws should evolve too.

Back to My Board Chair…

The good news? This is fixable.

We’re walking through:

• What their bylaws actually say

• Where practice doesn’t match reality

• And how to clean it up in a way that supports—not frustrates—the Board

Also… a little grace is being extended.

Because most of the time, this isn’t about bad leadership.

It’s about lack of clarity.

Want a Quick Way to Check Your Own Bylaws?

I’ve created a Bylaws Health Check Score Sheet you can use with your Board.

It’s simple.
It’s practical.
And it will very quickly tell you if your bylaws are:

🟢 Working
🟡 Needs attention
🔴 Quietly working against you

(And yes… it might make for a very interesting Board conversation.)

Click here to download the Nonprofit Bylaws Health Check.

One Last Thought Before You Try to Sleep Tonight

Bylaws aren’t just a legal requirement.

They are the difference between:

• a Board that functions
  and

• a Board that reacts

And if you’re the one lying awake at night?

Let’s make sure your bylaws are helping you… not haunting you.

Sweet dreams (hopefully a little more restful tonight).