My daughter recently got (re)married. For a variety of reasons (prior marriages, blended families that really never blended), they decided that the ceremony would be only for the three of them—my daughter, her fiancé and my daughter’s 8-year-old son. (And here we will pause for a grandmother to tell a cute grandson story: when I recently visited, he was very excited because that morning they had gone to get the “permission slip for them to get married.”)
My (now) son-in-law really understands, in a way I did not when I remarried, that he is marrying my grandson as much as he is marrying my daughter. They are a unit, and one of the things they needed to come to an agreement on was how he fits in.
When I got together with my current husband (that makes it sound as if I am expecting to have another and that is definitely not the case), my stepson was not quite 2 and my daughter was 15. I don’t think either of us realized what that meant and suffice it say that over the past twenty plus years, it’s been a real shock to both of us.
I had a similar experience when I went to my second nonprofit job. I had accepted the position of Development Director—the first at the organization—without understanding how much the Board would play in my day-to-day life. In my first fundraising job, I was part of a very large development program at a research university. I worked a lot with my Dean and many of the faculty, and part of my portfolio was to recruit and work with an advisory board, but as far as a governing board, I’m not even sure I knew they existed. I am sure I didn’t understand what they did.
So there I was, suddenly thrust into a situation where the Board was the important element in my fundraising efforts, working at an organization where the CEO was also the founder (I see lots of wry smiles and shaking heads here). My boss did not want me to speak directly to any single Board member. I was invited to many of the Board meetings and could speak to the group of them there, but only after he vetted what I was going to say.
He wasn’t really the problem. Just a symptom. The Board members didn’t want to get their hands dirty with fundraising. They served on this particular Board because of a commitment to the cause. Their interest was to sit around and talk about the larger issues the organization dealt with—not the issues involving governance. And the ED was not willing to push them in any other direction.
These are issues development directors too often don’t think about until it is too late. And they are issues EDs and Board members try not to think about at all.
Just as my daughter and son-in-law had many long talks about his role with her (now “their” ) son and his involved biological father, organizations need to have clarity how the development director will be interacting with the Board. In larger organizations, it needs to also go down a level: The chief development director needs to be clear how the rest of the development staff works with the Board.
On my soapbox for a moment: If the development director does not sit at the head of the table with the development director and the Board leadership, then it must be understood that fundraising will forever be the second-class citizen who doesn’t quite get to fulfill his or her potential.
Fundraising is most successful when there is a team. The team members are the Board. The development director is the coach and the manager. He or she ensures that the team members have the support they need to score.
When the Board, ED and the Development Director all work together, fundraising success is pretty much guaranteed. Failure comes when any part of the team is either pushed to or simply sits on the sidelines, hoping that someone is out of the field, able to reach the goal all by him or herself.
Janet Levine is a consultant who works with organizations, helping them to transform and grow their fundraising capacity, build stronger boards, and more confident staff. Learn more about her services at http://janetlevineconsulting.com