Last night Marc Pitman posted a blog inside 501 Mission Place about testing our assumptions. In it he included a link to one of the best resources I’ve ever seen for development officers or anyone involved in fundraising at a non-profit.
Marc asked this question: “As a donor to charity, what do we nonprofits do that REALLY annoys the tar out of you?”
The responses make up what should be required reading for every non-profit. These are mistakes that are avoidable and in many cases are common sense. Marc’s original blog inside 501 Mission Place coupled with some of these responses inspired a post I’ll share on Monday about whether we’re winning the battle but losing the war in fundraising. Until then, I wanted to share one of the more striking answers:
From Susan Smith – Marc: My answers are not unlike many you’ve received already, but I’m glad you asked!
1. Assumptions that since I gave to a similarly-missioned npo, I will give to another or 20 others just like it. I had my reasons for giving to the one – don’t assume that I give indiscriminately. You’re “like missions” are not all alike, not by a long-shot.
2. Phone calls that sound like they are coming from a boiler room. Don’t call me and ask for money – ever. I do not give based on phone calls, not even to students who call from my alma mater. My giving isn’t like ordering from LL Bean. I don’t give based on one call a year.
3. Don’t make your only contact with me a call or a letter asking for money. If you can’t be bothered to tell me what you do with the money or to contact me when you don’t want anything, then don’t contact me at all.
4. Don’t send me stuff. I don’t need or want stuff. I will probably die before I can use all the notepads, address labels and tiny calendars I receive.
5. Don’t send me generic anything – solicitation letters, acknowledgements for contributions (!), brochures, newsletters or annual reports addressed to “To Our Friends At”. If you can’t be bothered to find out my name, then don’t waste your money sending me anything.
6. Don’t send me a “Dear Friend” letter with “Dear Friend” crossed out and my first name written in. I don’t find that conducive to wanting to give you anything, especially if I am already a donor. Send a letter – personal – to me.
7. Don’t send a solicitation letter that thanks me generically for past gifts. Let me know you did your homework and know who I am and what I gave you last year.
8. If I’ve told you I cannot make a gift this year, say “thank you”, wish me a good evening and get off the phone. Don’t keep trying to get me to say yes. I won’t.
9. Don’t keep mailing me the same letter over and over. I didn’t respond to it. Receiving it a 2nd or 3rd time with no new information will not snare my interest or my gift.
10. if you’re going to write a personal note on my letter, then write something more meaningful than “Hope you’ll give” or something equally inane. Show/tell me something that I may not know and that addresses why you need MY gift.
11. Big news flash: I know you are only calling/sending me a letter because I live in a desireable zip code. My zip code qualifies me for nothing other than paying my mortgage every month. It has no magic connection to your mission. If you’re spending money to buy lists based on zip codes, purchasing preferences and whether or not I subscribe to the New Yorker or Martha Stewart Living, you’re wasting your time, my time and your money. My income/education/demographic are predictors of nothing that likely has anything to do with your mission or purpose.
Take off your industry hat for a moment and think about your own experience as a donor. What turns you off?
I used to be a major supporter of Lyric Opera. I had two full-series box seat subscriptions, attended gala fundraisers and made a hefty annual gift for several seasons. When my divorce began my box seats were one of the luxuries I had to say goodbye to. When I didn’t early-renew like I normally do I was bombarded with phone calls. After explaining that my financial situation had changed but that I would still purchase individual seats when they became available to non-subscribers I thought the phone calls would stop.
Not so. They continued to a level I consider harassing. My mailbox was also filled with solicitation letters and materials from Lyric on a weekly basis. This finally irritated me so much that I asked them to remove me from their database. I love the opera. I love the Lyric! But…I haven’t made an annual gift, gone to an event or purchased seats at a single showing since.
Do you have your own examples for the Fundraising Hall of Shame? Post them in the comments!
I can’t encourage you to read the full list of answers Marc received enough – they’re invaluable insight!