The Little Words Mean the Most

Who told you this shit was easy?

My Las Vegas love....

As you say, "words are hard." And unexamined, place-holder, endlessly-repeated, jargon-ista words have the dangerous life-span of radioactive waste. "Well, they said it that way ... so we should say it that way, too!" Blah, blah, blah, etc.

The industry's been through this ... more than once. It's a BIG reason (IMHO) why average donor-comm performance (and US household giving) is in decline ... because new practice unwittingly copies bad practice.

My latest real-life example? A good, beloved, award-winning, life-saving nonprofit community hospital system that got ZERO response to a massive email appeal. Hey?!? Me, too! Been there, done that, once upon a time ... before I gulped down 2 decades of training re: "words are hard."

Who told you this shit was easy?

 

Is Flesch-Kincaid still relevant, Dawn asks a decade later

Dawn! HELLO!!!

Yes, the tool is still relevant ... more than ever ... I teach it all the time. It's called the Flesch-Kincaid calculator (after its co-founders).

Here's the URL:   https://goodcalculators.com/flesch-kincaid-calculator/

As I probably harped on back then, grade level is NOT about getting 6th-graders to make donations.

Grade level is exclusively about how fast and easily I (an adult who might make a gift) can comprehend what you're trying to tell me: a 6th-grade level is faster than an 8th-grade level is WAY faster than a 10th-grade level ... and if you're trying to shove 12th-grade writing down my throat, you better be buying me a hot-fudge sundae with 3 cherries on top. And a day in rehab.

12th-grade writing ceases to be of any use after the 12th grade (unless you want to be a peer-reviewed scientist or college professor). For the general public, it's an insult to our attention spans.

Flesch-Kincaid standards ripple through the User's Manuals on our sub fleet, where sailors with high-school diplomas tend nuclear reactors and drive the boats. The people at the wheel are 18 and 19 years old (under senior supervision, of course). Thank you, Flesch-Kincaid.
 
Without Flesch-Kincaid, what a mess we'd be in.

 

 

Road warriors swap tales: Carol Weisman, MSW, CSP and Tom

I think my personal best was flying out of a dinky airport in NY state (with an incredible snack selection, though; kudos), to speak in Green Bay, WI the next day and the Twin Cities the day after that. Keynote speaker at 3 National Philanthropy Days in 3 days. I don't remember much except running, dragging, buying snacks, speaking; repeat in reverse.

Not to mention the time my flight for Denver from Pittsburgh left 8 hours late due to a PA blizzard. The pilots bought pizza for every passenger who hadn't given up and gone home. They promised we'd leave; the final flight was a quarter full. Landed at dawn, got an invite to Denver's best Ethiopian restaurant from my cabbie, checked into the conference hotel for 1 hour's sleep, did the gig, checked out, went home; probably crashed for 24 hours.

Or how about that time my plane taxied for takeoff in Odessa, TX (which smells of oil ... literally; it's the "drill, baby, drill" capital of the world). The pilot suddenly got a bad dashboard light. He taxied back to the gate (I'd moved about 400 yards in total by that time, none of them in the air). And, lo, there wasn't a room to be had in town. The oil boom was so hot they were scouring the jails for employees. The airline was as helpful as could be. I think I slept that night alongside some hotel's vending machines.

Or, hey, that time in Winnipeg, when Simone forgot her passport ... and I had to present for both of us. Having spent years rebuffing her: "You know what you know. I know what I know. I don't have to know what you know, too. Just tell me what to do."

Or then there's O'Hare. O'Hare's special. It's in the middle of a continent. A super-hub. Weather conditions across North America effect O'Hare's arrivals and departures. What road warrior doesn't have a great O'Hare story? Like the time all flights were grounded ... and I snuggled into a dim hallway cot beneath a thin blanket at 3 AM. There were thousands of other passengers on cots under thin blankets stuffed in the halls, as far as the eye could see. O'Hare looked like the London Tube during the Blitz.

 

The issue was raised on LinkedIn....

 

Per Ben Miller, SVP of Data Science and Analytics, Bonterra...

Many nonprofits saw a surge of donations and donors during 2020 and 2021. Then in 2022 things started getting back to normal. Normal in this case is a declining donor pool for more than a decade. At the end of 2022 donors were 83% of what they were at the end of 2012.

Leading the charge, new donors have declined precipitously -18%. Plus it is more costly to get new donors.

His comments elicited a strong response from fundraisers internationally. My small contribution to the mob:

Like many of you in the FEP [Fundraising Effectiveness Project] family, I can speak from different perspectives: practitioner trying to raise money, new donor, monthly donor, major donor. And I now wonder if the 10% "decline" in US donors is something similar to climate change. >> I.e., physics; natural forces normally readjusting, in other words. ¶ I'm rushing off to lunch, so I can't check my data immediately. But it's my understanding that the # of nonprofits in the US alone has something like doubled in the past 15-20 years. ¶ Then you have John Lepp's recent anecdotal reporting on how slammed his mother-in-law's mailbox is every year ... more than 500 items coming in and ONLY one was a thank you to generous Dale. ¶ What is the sum of the research done by Dr.s Jen Shang and Adrian Sargeant at their Institute for Sustainable Philanthropy? In my non-academic interpretation: "When you like your donors, they'll like you back. And they'll express that through more giving and by sticking around." ¶ THE COMPLETE DONOR.... Interesting idea, Benjamin Mohler and Andrew Polter.

love bunnies...

 

To a trusted ED of a beloved regional community foundation asking for a speaking date

 

[To him; could have been her; could have been any pronoun....]

 

The best I can say is this: in theory that date works (and thank you for the invitation). It's open on my calendar, in other words.

 

Honestly? I haven't done an in-person presentation since early 2020, March. I was leaving Scotland after a 2.5 day masterclass on the banks of Loch Ness; Simone was at my shoulder, making things SO much easier. We all knew something was odd because the big Chinese delegation had cancelled at the last minute. Suddenly they were forbidden from traveling. Simone and I flew back to the States, on small planes, then bigger planes.

 

Within two weeks the real news hit front pages: global viral deadly pandemic.

 

In the year previous, I'd done 36 presentations, mostly live. Simone was doing the same. Airplanes every 2 weeks for us.

 

In 2020, after we returned from Scotland, I did ZERO in person. Her, too.

 

[To him/her/regional foundation:] I'm not out of practice exactly. Today, for instance, I did a 1.5 hour webinar with a record crowd from 8 countries re: cases for support ... then answered audience questions for another 2.5 hours, alongside a guest expert. So, yeah, I still practice ... just not in person, in breathing distance, since March 2020.

 

Being in front of a live audience is different ... and better!

 

What I hope you'll garner from this wandering confessional: times have changed; I've changed; my dear beloved mainstay Simone died in the meantime; and maybe the rail gauge I run on now, at age 75, isn't what you need.

 

In case this sounds TOO desperate, I have a great, international expert, mid-50s, to recommend: [first name last name], who lives near you. She's a top copywriter; works internationally ... and has at least one current [nearby] as a client. And she's nice. And patient. And SUPER-well-informed (as you can discover for yourself from her blog).

 

Just saying,

 

Just ended one of THOSE phone calls: Look, I know I'm a 3rd-tier author

 

This latest firm's basic promise:

With our PR, we'll boost your book title from an also-ran to a top-seller.

I get these calls from time to time, as one does. I've published more than a half-dozen books of various kinds ... as one does when you can't stop talking.

ALL my books are also-rans. Wander into Barnes & Noble looking for my stuff? You'll be talking to customer service.

My 6-or-so I'm-relatively-proud-of how-to books speak to a limited target audience of front-line fundraisers and NGOs. My uninhibited memoir about my dad has had almost no sales (though it got one stellar review). Earlier fiction attempts by me, the chump, trying to hit in Major-League Baseball? It's a bloopers reel ... at best.

How's your writing career going?

Don't stop.

 

What happens when a new career star equipped with Post-It notes encounters a (hopefully) helpful how-to book

 

 

Thank you, David Stamps....

 

 

My working definition of donor-centricity

Let's try this one more time.

Someone asked what I thought. The reply: "Retention depends on 3 things: asking, thanking, reporting. Asking means we grab them by the shoulders and share spit. Thanking means we reach into their chests and shake their hearts profoundly. Reporting means we adopt them and explain their family obligations and joys."

Key word: retention.

In other words, technically speaking, with all the research and results left in (and politics parked at the door), donor-centricity is about retention, hence greater Lifetime Value (LTV). Ken Burnett's book on Relationship Fundraising forecast the immense potential when a charity focuses on LTV. Key researchers, Dr.s Adrian Sargeant and Jen Shang --- bolstered worldwide by many fundraising practitioners willing to take a chance on a different way of talking --- proved the point: donor-centricity (technically defined) increases giving, often reliably doubling contributions within a fairly short period of time (18 months?).

 

Forgive me, if this is a Loch Ness repeat ... it was important to Simone and me

In a small Scottish inn, we spot hints of the coming pandemic

... before the average world hears the news

         It's a master class for about 25 fundraising professionals. It starts Monday, March 2, 2020; we meet and mingle the night before. There's a fire. There's a single-malt bar. Our classroom overlooks Loch Ness. Highland cattle bagged in thick copper hair and lengthy horns graze the sloping fields in front of The Inch, our inn and classroom. These animals are an ancient Scottish breed. We're staring at Neolithic-period meat and milk.

         Loch Ness isn't all that wide. But it is the very, very, well-fine-not-really-all-that-implausibly deep home to the (please adopt this lovely word) "cryptozoological monster" touristically known in gift shops as Nessie.

         And you know what, when you're teaching a master class?

         The Nessie legend is an f*ing distraction. Delegates can't help glancing out the windows, hoping. Walk a few minutes to the nearby village of Fort Augustus: Nessie is unavoidable. Nessie burgers. Nessie squish toys in tartans. Loch Ness energy drinks: "Guzzle the damn stuff!!! You'll feel like a dragon trapped inside a fathomless lake for at least 10,000 years!" Nessie petrol. And Nessie boat patrol.

         Along with meals, lodging and pitiless fundraising instructors [us] yapping about expertise for 2.5 days, our master-class students get a complimentary boat trip up Loch Ness from Fort Augustus.

         It's a sedate ride. A colony of feral goats chewing the scenery on the loch's sheer cliffs is the highlight; that, plus sunburn if you didn't bring covering.

         In several places, the boat's windows offer a pasted-on Nessie silhouette. Through that silhouette, you can shoot your very own pretend "I saw Nessie" photo. Everyone does it. It's the highlight of the tour. The silhouette features a couple of arching black spines and the famously erect swan's neck topped by that fierce presumably-ancient fish-crushing head.

         I notice that Simone has cornered one of our brightest, most eager master-class students. He's from the Czech Republic. Went to Harvard. Now back in his home country, where he's set on reforming public school education. The vision: to make the Czech Republic a superstar amongst post-Communist states, which ended almost 30 years ago. He's got grant funding, which puts a warhead on his missile (to slip back into Cold War terms).

------

Sim One lectures him throughout our one-hour ride re: her disgust with politics in America. She's not bothering with photos of Nessie. He's attentive, polite, calm, respectful. He's a remedy, too, I suspect. His unremitting, much-younger Czech attention-span probably spares Simone's stomach a messy countdown.

         She is spectacularly prone to seasickness.

         More than once, within seconds, I've witnessed her explosive reactions to being afloat on any boat; on three continents.

         Even on today's prim, flat lake, aboard a tub in the Scottish Highlands, with waves no higher than careless gestures, waves less formidable than a gent's pocket square, I can easily imagine Simone collapsing on the deck, eyes rolling up, gracelessly puking without caring much, like a wan fire hose.

         So, PS: The cleaning crew for this Loch Ness tour boat wishes to thank the Czech Republic. Which I kept mistakenly calling Czechoslovakia in his presence, a political entity that dissolved peacefully on January 1, 1993. He was adoringly patient. He forgave me because I was clearly too old to castigate and my references were obsolete. My stamp collection was old, my atlas was old, my globe was old. I was an antique, too. I just needed to shut up and let the next generations have their say.

 

I am now magnetic!!!

Koren & Shane display their newly arrived "Trained by Tom Ahern" magnets,

suitable for metal surfaces or erasing your hard drive

(it was the Coopers' idea, not mine)