Is your ED ready to fundraise? 2 tests
File under: The prospect next door
Pretending to be a donor prospect
As I pushed open the door to the Seven Stars Bakery, I triggered the stopwatch on my phone. This would be test #1 of an executive director's readiness to fundraise from individuals (as opposed to governments or big foundations).
Eleven minutes later he flunked test #1. I clicked off my stopwatch and held up a finger, signaling a need to interrupt.
Joe immediately shut up. He is the ED of a $20+ million agency that does outstanding work with foster kids. Big smile. Bearded face. Casual clothes. Brow furrowed encouragingly. A confident alpha.
He leaned forward.
"Joe, It's been more than 11 minutes since we first shook hands," I explained. "Yet in all that time you haven't asked me much of anything about myself. You asked where I lived: the minimum."
Autobiographically yrs: Test #1
Neuroscience analyst Kevin Schulman has memorably concluded: "Almost all giving is autobiographical."
I could see that Joe, the ED, was still revved up and eager to complete his fundraising pitch. That was HIS autobiography.
I had a suggestion for next time: "Ask me if I know any adults who were raised as foster kids. As it happens, I do ... and she's amazing. When I think of foster kids, I think of her: an outstanding career professional, an outstanding mom, a victim who cared for her paedophile father as he lay dying."
Joe then quickly told me about two board members, both formerly fostered kids, both of whom became lawyers.
Flatter me: Test #2
Flatter me. You can't go wrong.
Counter to what our mothers told us, flattery WILL always get you somewhere. I learned that from Roger Dooley and his book, Brainfluence.
So I asked Joe, the CEO, alpha-dog, at this $20+ million agency, to flatter me. We'd reached a pause in the conversation. He'd taken a few notes.
"Flatter me," I repeated.
Joe did what he could on the spur of the moment: "You're so handsome, Tom. You're so smart."
I wear glasses. Today I was wearing humdrum frames.
I asked Joe to close his eyes. He obliged. I switched my glasses from humdrum to artisanal frames, handmade in France by an architect.
I asked Joe to open his eyes.
"Nice glasses!" he said.
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