Nonprofit University Blog

Recently, the IRS published the list of the 279,595 nonprofits which had their nonprofit status revoked for failure to file a Form 990 for at least three consecutive years, a requirement put forth in the Pension Reform Act of 2006. Taken in the larger scheme of things, 280,000 out of a total of approximately 1.6 million nonprofits is about 18%.   Since that release, newspaper headlines around the country have been reporting the local numbers, which vary depending upon whether reporting on a town, county or state:  almost 900 in South Dakota and nearly 14,000 in Florida; almost 200 combined in Horry and Georgetown Counties, South Carolina and 26 in Coshocton County, Ohio; the City of Dana Point, California, lost 24, while Philadelphia lost 1,968.

Should we mourn or rejoice?  Neither, really.  On the one hand, there are too many nonprofits in this country, so separating the wheat from the chaff is much needed.  With too many there is unnecessary duplicatation of services, competition for increasingly limited resources, a wasting of those board members that really want to do board work, and much more.  Unfortunately, however, almost half (134,615) of these “revoked” nonprofits hadn’t been on the IRS’ radar screen at all or for some long period of time.   So, we didn’t do much winnowing there.

On the other hand, with the remaining 144,980 of which the IRS was aware, perhaps it has cleaned up the sector a little, getting rid of those nonprofits that played fast and loose with the rules and regulations, or those that were ignorant, or those that were just too busy.  No matter what their excuse, they are gone—at least temporarily.  (The IRS has already started working with those organizations seeking reinstatement of their tax-exempt status.  Thus, this move may have turned into an annoyance, but not much more.  Unless this time round, the IRS will do a better job of keeping tabs and really enforcing what it, or the Pension Reform Act, says.)

So, what of those 145,000 of which the IRS was aware but are now no longer classified as tax-exempt?  Who are they?  According to Guidestar’s research, revenue for the largest 100 organizations on the revocation list had revenues ranging from $4-400 million. The largest three each reported income in excess of $2 million, the last time they reported (2004 or 2006); the top 50 each reported revenue in excess of $10 million.  These are not the small, grassroots, mom and pop nonprofits which might claim ignorance, or lack of resources or being too busy.  These are organizations that had the staff, access to knowledge and experts, and had senior management and boards that should have known better.   There are no excuses here.  There were, however, plenty of organizations that might be able to use the excuse of ignorance or lack of resources:  more than 75% of the now “de-frocked” nonprofits had annual revenues under $25,000.

And yet I wonder what were the folks running these organizations, regardless of their size, thinking?  More than half (57%) of these revoked organizations were 501(c)(3) public charities, meaning donations to these organizations were only tax deductible for their donors for as long as the nonprofit remained in good standing.  (Oops!  Blew that!)  Gaining tax-exempt status is a quid pro quo arrangement:  the government does something for you, you do something for it.  It may just be the one really clear thing in the IRS guidelines:  file the Form 990. How do you miss that?

But the question that really nags at me is “What good did this do the sector?”  Is the nonprofit sector better off as a result?  Are the stakeholders served by the sector better off as a result?  Or was this really just an act of “because we can” and consequence was not a matter of concern.  (Certainly the fact that the IRS is now working with nonprofits to get them reinstated suggests this may have been an exercise in power.)  Perhaps it was simply to allow us all to hear the lion roar in hopes that next time we all will jump to it.

Broadway revivals like “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying,” although originating in a different era, often have a message that remains timely decades later.  Good example, the song,  “A Secretary is Not a Toy.”  But with all due respect to the writer/composer, Frank Loesser, the version I am singing today plays a little with the opening lines: ”  My version goes like this:  People, people, a nonprofit is not a toy, no my board, not a toy.”

To be honest, I am really more than tired of hearing stories of board members, collectively or individually, shanghaiing a nonprofit as their own personal toy to do with as they want.   Here, I am thinking of the board president who is recently retired from her career and who now decides to run the nonprofit to fit her personal needs—and the rest of the board members sit back and watch this and do nothing about it.  This is the board president who is into everything—much of which is not her purview.

There is no reason for the board president to be on every committee.  And there is ABSOLUTELY no reason for the board president to chair anything more than the board itself and the executive committee.  In a culture where that is allowed to happen (and I mean allowed by the other board members), it should come as no surprise when there are no takers for becoming the next board president.  The current one has made the job of president look like an enormity that no one wants.  Now, the way this scenario ends, is that the totalitarian board president “magnanimously” agrees to serve another term.  Poof, you have despot. This situation occurs only with the collusion of the rest of the board:  they allow this situation to develop and to be sustained.  And it is the rest of the board that must assert its voice.

A board president should have no more power than any other board member; s/he just has a lot more responsibility.  That responsibility, however, does not include running everything by him/herself and becoming a one person band; it does not mean closing out the executive director or the other board members; it does not mean treating the nonprofit as his/her pet project.  It isn’t his; it isn’t a project.  It is a mission-based business that must deliver on its mission promises.  And its takes a full board and an executive director working in partnership to make that happen.

While one set of board members allows the president to dress the doll up as he sees fit, changing the clothes whenever, dying the hair, breaking a leg, etc., another set allows the board president to ignore the toy altogether.  The other board members don’t force him to trade the truck for a basketball, and move on from playing with trucks to playing b-ball.  Rather, they allow him to leave the truck in the middle of the floor to simply walk around, while every so often picking it up and thinking, “Ah, yes, you,” only to put it down for another month or months.  This is the board president who maybe didn’t really want to be president, but the board was desperate.  Or the board president who is using the office to build his resume, impress a highly sought client or potential boss, but doesn’t really want to do the job.  Any reason but the right ones.  This president is the exact opposite of the despot; this president isn’t really interested in ruling, to the point that he simply doesn’t.

This is the president who avoids the controversies and tensions in the organization, fails to bring the tough discussions to the board, keeps blinders on to the stress fractures in the board and the organization.   This is the board president content with the status quo and praying that nothing really, truly erupts on his watch.  It isn’t that he wishes the organization harm; he just wants to do no work.  And once again, the other board members, who allow this situation to continue, are just as responsible for the harm that results.

Both kinds of board presidents and the boards that allow them to exist fail to understand the role of the board and its importance to the health and well-being of a nonprofit and, therefore, the health and well-being of the community.  These are the boards that see nonprofits as “a little plaything” instead of the important and vital component of vibrant communities that they are and that need sustained attention and care.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, …. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you.
When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.” (from The Velveteen Rabbit)

It seem I have more to say about social media  and if nonprofits are using it smartly and wisely. So, here is some research fodder for your social media strategy.

Item one:  the human touch still matters! At least according to research by Hyojung Park, a doctoral student in journalism at the University of Missouri. Park showed study participants mock-ups of the “social media websites” of real for-profit and nonprofit organizations.  Some sites just presented the organization—no names, no pictures, just the organization as a whole, while others had pictures and messages directly from the organizations’ PR/marketing personnel.  The latter are the ones defined as having a “human voice.”

What did Park find?  The personal, friendlier sites with the “human voice” get much higher marks than those without.   She says, “We have evidence that perceived conversational human voice may promote trust, satisfaction, and commitment in relationships between an organization and the public, which in turn results in favorable behavioral intentions toward an organization.” Which in the nonprofit sector translates into, among other things, money.

Item two:  ethnicity or race (not really clear what these researchers thought they were studying) matters.  Georgetown University’s Center for Social Impact Communication and Ogilvy Public Relations titled their research report “Social Media Plays Greater Role In Cause Engagement For African Americans and Hispanics.”

African Americans and Hispanics are significantly more likely to support a cause online (than offline) than are whites.  They are more likely than whites to believe that they can spread the word of the cause through social media, and more likely to see social media as an added source of useful information.  Most interestingly of all, however, is the finding that African Americans and Hispanics say that supporting causes makes them feel part of their communities.  Is that a different way of saying they feel like they are making a difference, one of the key mantras of fundraising– never deny anyone the opportunity to be part of the solution?

Interesting findings, but they beg some questions.  What about Asians? Native Americans? other key groups that make up the rich diversity of America’s population? And what happens when we disaggregate the multiplicity that makes up African American, Hispanic, Caucasian?

Do the results change among subsectors of those anything but heterogeneous groups?  Unanswered questions remain, but a clear lesson to relearn or reinforce:  one size does not fit all.  Know thy audience!  Old ways, new ways, it doesn’t matter.  We have to understand the tools we use and how they will be received by those on whom we wish to have an impact.

Sometimes the personal touch, the human voice, involves a kick-in-the-pants approach.  When appropriate, The Nonprofit Center is the one doling out the tough love to nonprofits or practitioners that deserve a trip to the proverbial woodshed.  That sometimes indelicate role is part of the impact The Nonprofit Center makes, in its effort to strengthen the sector.

Our call to action: But we’re not about getting in trouble by exposing their tales of woe inappropriately.  But we also know that there are valuable lessons to be gained through the stories of others, not to mention the great cathartic feeling that comes with “venting”.

So, instead of airing your stories of board member follies or donor demands via a blog or a tweet that could be traced back to you, take advantage of the “Nonprofit Confessional” we’re offering.

Tell me your story, educate, pontificate; the prouds, the sorries, the uglies.  We will read them all and even post—COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY ANONYMOUSLY—these cautionary tales.

You’ll get it out of your system, your colleagues will learn a thing or two and the message will be sent that you aren’t alone.

Send your confessions to laura.otten@yahoo.com

This past week, I had the great pleasure to attend my niece’s graduation from one of the top business schools in the country.   This school annually awards one-year fellowships to eight deserving graduates which allow them to spend a year applying their new-found knowledge in one of eight nonprofits.  Some, my niece tells me, as she is one of this year’s class of eight, even become employees of the nonprofit after the fellowships conclude.  That’s the good news.

The bad news came at a reception that my niece and her close circle of friends held for their families.  A conversation with the mother of one of the hostesses had me cringing, despite having heard what she had to say too many times before (including from my niece’s mouth after her summer experiences at various nonprofits).  This woman’s daughter was taking her business school education and going to work (not a fellowship) for a national nonprofit, and the daughter was seriously uneasy with the prospect.  She loved the mission of this organization, but she had had a bad experience with a summer job at a nonprofit that left her believing that nonprofits are inept and are not– no cannot be– run like an efficient for-profit.  And this made her exceptionally anxious about her new place of employment.

As I said, I’ve heard this lament again and again.  And, depending upon my mood, I chuckle and say, “That’s what keeps The Nonprofit Center in business!”  Truly, I only say that internally.  Externally, I explain how that is changing, that nonprofits increasingly understand that they need to run like a business, pay attention to the bottom line, have metrics and sound business models, require solid performances of employees, etc., etc., etc.  I say that people for too long have looked at nonprofits as they do that dilettante relative:  interesting, good for an amusing story, but not to be taken seriously.  And quite honestly, I’m really, really tired of this.

But who is to blame for this?  I’ll lay it at the feet of the paid and volunteer heads of the organization:  the executive director and the board.  I see it again and again, and have written about it probably too often:  the executive director who spends so much time working in the organization, as I put it once before on these pages, and neglects working on the organization.

As a result, inefficiencies abound.  Employees who underperform remain on payroll for years; funding is not diversified; programs remain in place regardless of whether they fulfill mission promises, bring in sufficient revenue, meet the goals of the program; jobs are “fluid” because there are no job descriptions; the strategic plan, if it exists, is ignored; decision making, because it must be inclusive, is painfully slow.  And the list could go on.  It may “feel” or initially look like a nice place to work, but the reality is quite the opposite.  It is a disorganized, chaotic, underperforming, excuse-driven organization.  And, quite frankly, who would want to work there?

The board, which is supposed to be there to prevent the above from happening, isn’t doing its job.  It should be providing oversight of the finances, executive director and mission fulfillment; it should be laying the direction through policy setting and strategic planning; and it should be ensuring sufficient resources to sustain the mission now and into the future.  Instead, we have bright board members—perhaps educated at some of the most prestigious business schools in the country—going dumb or not bothering to pay attention when it comes to advising the dilatant relative.  How about the board that has no clue what its operating budget is nor any idea of whether it is in the red or the black?  (Want to take a guess?)

Or the board that hasn’t had a financial report in a year because the staff hasn’t been able to get the new software to work?   How about the one where the board that has been unhappy with the executive director for three or five or more years, but has never gotten around to doing a performance evaluation or making any corrective attempts and is only now coming around to doing something because the organization is tanking?

Or the board that has been comfortable, year after year, to rely solely on government grants, stridently refusing suggestions to diversify and ignoring the examples around it of such solo-funded organizations going down?  This all might be funny if it weren’t for the fact that all of these scenarios, and the ones I don’t have room to tell here, are real; didn’t make one of them up.  Promise.

Do people run their for-profit businesses like this?  Don’t think so.  I’ve yet to meet a CEO who lets an underperforming employee remain on the payroll (unless there were “special” circumstances, such as blood lines, sex, blackmail, etc.) or continue to push a product that was no longer delivering what the market could bear?  Would for-profit board members be willing to let a whole year go by with an underperforming CEO at the helm or not knowing the financial health of the company?  Can’t imagine it!  And yet, time and time again, we see what would never be practiced in the for-profit world pass as acceptable in the nonprofit world.  And it comes with serious consequences.

One serious consequence is the on-going devaluation of the nonprofit sector in comparison to the for-profit sector.  The latter, this view holds, is more important than the former.  Truth is, however, that both are equally important to the quality of everyone’s life.  The sooner we realize that and start taking nonprofits and their missions as seriously as we do companies and their products, the better our society will become.

Another serious consequence is that we are chasing away the very ones who can right the sector.   We all want the best and the brightest working for us—for-profits and nonprofits alike.  The best and the brightest don’t just come out of the country’s top business schools; they come from all walks of life and backgrounds.  It is more than time for every nonprofit to take a deep, hard and honest look at itself and see whether and how it is its our own worst enemy—chasing away the chance for a bright future.

I remember the first time the call went out that pieces of some space exploration  equipment were going to be falling from the sky, landing we knew not where.  There were projections which—I truly thought then and now—were more hopes and spin put out there with the intent to diffuse anxiety about the “sky falling in”—that it would land in the desert or the ocean.  But the reality was, the “experts” had no clue.  And I so remember at the time ranting at the “experts” for getting so carried away by the thrill of something new that they failed a) to think through carefully and completely about the implications of this invention for the rest of society and what it was they were unleashing  and b) to design any procedures surrounding this new thing.

History does love to repeat itself, though this time it is social media.  Most, if not all, of us have heard the stories of athletes self-immolating by putting something quick and not really thought through out on Twitter. Amazing how much damage 140 characters can do!  Just ask Reggie Bush, Rashard Mendenhall, Matt Hasselbeck , and Antonio Cromartie.  And I know and know of too many twenty-somethings who had a great time with their Facebook pages while in high school and college and subsequently lost job opportunities because potential employers didn’t like what they found on those pages.

The nonprofit sector is not immune!  We have jumped on the social media bandwagon almost as quickly as everyone else.  Just this past weekend, at an event I attended, the free workshop on social media drew a packed room, while my workshop on the board and its roles and responsibilities maybe had less than twenty.  As I stood at the door and listened to the last half-hour, I heard only how to do it and nothing on how to protect yourself and your organization.  Had folks come to my session on a board’s roles and responsibilities, they would have learned that the board should have created some policies guiding everyone on what is and isn’t allowed on company time, and not.

Last year, the story made the rounds of the women in St. Louis who worked for a nonprofit by day and was a sex blogger by night.  She was discovered because her boss was told by her superiors to google her and other employees.  The National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) has just determined that Hispanics United of Buffalo acted illegally when it fired five employees who took their office complaints onto Facebook.  Seems the NLRB believes that talking about your employer, work conditions, fellow employees, etc., on Facebook is akin to talking about all of that standing around “the water cooler,” and you can’t be fired for that.

And then there is the story of Reel Grrls, a Seattle, Washington nonprofit that uses media production to empower young women.  Comcast, a  funder for the last three years of Reel Grrls’ summer camp, withdrew its $18,000 funding when it learned of a Reel Grrls’ staff member tweet criticizing Comcast for hiring as a lobbyist a member of the Federal Communications Commission that approved Comcast’s purchase of NBC.  (The FCC member, obviously, is stepping down to accept the position at Comcast.)  Comcast has since reinstated the grant, but Reel Grrls has refused it, preferring not to be associated with an organization that they perceive as blocking freedom of speech.  You go, Grrls!

But that is not the point of this blog.  The point of this blog is to ask boards of directors:  what guidance have you given your organization—you, the staff, volunteers—for the use of this “new” invention?  No doubt your organizations are on Facebook and Twitter, and maybe Linked-In and other similar sites.  (And I am sure board members, employees, volunteers, some clients, are as well.)  Social media is the rage among for-profits and nonprofits alike.  But have you given any guidance as to what is okay and not okay in using social media  as it relates to the organization, employees, colleagues, collaborators, competitors, funders—you get the picture—or not?

What are the standards and expectations that surround their use of these sites as it pertains to their personal positions and interests and the organization’s use of those sites to check up on them? While at work?  While on their own time? And what are the policies surrounding monitoring employees and volunteers?  Does this just happen at work? Or, will big brother be watching what is done on their own time, under their own name or a pseudonym?

I am not a lawyer, so I cannot say what is within your legal rights.  What I can say is that you need to have a philosophical discussion about what your organization—in light of its mission and core values—will and will not tolerate, and then you need to run it past your attorney to make sure it is a legal position.  Do you want to fire someone who is an exemplary employee while at work because s/he has a salacious blog on his/her own time? or has friended a group that you find questionable?  Do you want to be the organization that scans people’s Facebook (or wherever) pages before hiring them (or accepting them onto the board) to see if they got drunk in college, posed in an outrageous costume or helped senior citizens with their groceries?  Or do you want to be the organization that says do whatever or give no guidelines.

We have clearly introduced into society an innovation before having thought through all of the implications and ramifications.  The sky is not falling in, but things may be a bit out of control.  By allowing them to remain so, boards risk creating problems—and lawsuits—that are within their purview to prevent.  It isn’t too late to close the barn door, but you better act quickly.

“Teach your children well.”  A big Crosby Stills Nash and Young fan, I sang that line hundreds, if not thousands, of times in my “youth”.  I sang that line thousands of time to myself as I raised my son.  And it has flashed through my brain thousands of times more as I witnessed parents doing well and not so well with teaching their children and it has inspired some previous blogs

It had been rolling around my head a lot of late as I continue to think about the challenge of raising new philanthropists.  But it was at an intolerable decibel level yesterday as I learned of some parents at a Philadelphia suburban school district who had allegedly planned on “sickening” their children while on a field trip on the cruise Spirit of Philadelphia, and then turning around and suing the cruise company. Talk about teaching your children!  There is an “evil force” out there, beyond immediate gratification and excessive consumption and the world of “me”, with which we must contend as we seek our future philanthropists.

Understand that I define a philanthropist not by how much s/he gives, but by the fact that s/he gives at all of his/her money and/or time, and by the fact of caring to bring about a better world for all.  As I have confessed before in the pages of this blog, it was a concern that loomed especially large for me when my son was born:  how would we, his mother and father who are deeply committed to giving back and helping others, make sure that our son, who was growing up in a society where children expect to be given so much and in a community of relative affluence, would become a philanthropist?  He is 22 now, and I am happy to report that we succeeded, and quite well, if I say so myself.  But my worry moved on, quite some time ago, well beyond my son, to his generation and those that followed.

How do we teach children to be engaged in the communities where they will live and work, to want to help improve the quality of life, not just for themselves but for all of those around them?  As nonprofits everywhere are working harder and harder to raise money for the now and the next year, what are we doing now to ensure that there will be donors ten, twenty or thirty years from now?  And we must start now, for if we wait until we need them, they won’t be there.

We each take our own path to becoming a philanthropist.  For some, it is what our parents taught us, directly with speeches and indirectly by example.  For others, it is a life-changing moment as you confront a life-threatening illness or watch an animal or human being abused or see your life in color for the first time while seeing a painting or a theatre, music or dance performance. For others, it is requirement to do community service that turns out to be fun and enriching rather than the anticipated dread.

As parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, older siblings, we have clear options in our role as teachers and examples.   But nonprofits that need these philanthropists, what are we doing to ensure that the cart to our horse will be there for us in the future?  What are we doing for the collective children of our communities?

Teach your children what you believe in.
Make a world that we can live in.

Strategic planning just may be the most important policy a board of directors, executing its governance responsibilities, may create.  And yet, far too often, it isn’t done “right”.  Why?

Let me be clear about two things.  First, a board does not create a strategic plan by itself.  And second, there is no one “right” way to do strategic planning; there is, however, a “right” cast of characters and order of appearance.

When I say a board doesn’t create a strategic plan by itself, I mean just that.  A strategic plan, because it is such an important organizational policy, must be driven by the board with deep board involvement at every step of the process.  But staff, from executive director all the way down to the last rung on the organizational chart, must also be included.  Depending upon the size of the organization, this inclusion may look different and different for the various boxes on the organizational chart, from attending meetings and retreats to completing a survey to participating in focus groups, to any combination of the above.  Ultimately, the work this group creates must be approved by the board of directors before it can become official policy.  Hence, my wording that the board creates a strategic plan.

And when I say there is no “right” way to do strategic planning, I mean just that.  Line up 10 strategic planning consultants and you will likely get 10 (okay, maybe only seven) different ways of doing it.

But you should get only one cast of characters list—as here there is a “right list.”  As suggested above, the key player is the board—and not a subcommittee of the board, but the full board.  It must lead the charge, support the charge, and take their leadership role of the charge.  Well, you get the picture.  Next comes the executive director, and the rest of staff.  Then there are all of those external stakeholders, from clients to collaborators to competitors to funders to key thought leaders.  All of those voices have to be tapped and thrown into the mix that the board and lead staff members distill and use in identifying the organization’s strategic priorities.  Too often, however, this cast of characters is topped by the executive director, who takes the lead, takes charge and uses the board only after the fact, to get its buy in and, of course, its vote to make it all official.

Why are these two fundaments of strategic planning so ignored and violated?  Two common reasons:  one, the executive director wants to control and two, the board doesn’t want to be bothered.  The former is the more common explanation and results from the executive director who thinks s/he knows best, wants to drive the planning work, turning to the board almost after the fact, looking for its buy in and, of course, the needed approval to transform hopes into policy.  In so doing, though, the planning process has been robbed of the diversity of minds and perspective that the board represents and board members have been robbed of the opportunity to learn, grow and make the contribution they wanted to make in originally joining the board.

We do often hear statements to the effect that the board doesn’t want to be bothered with strategic planning.   This generally is heard from two groups of nonprofits:  those with both a good executive director and an engaged board and those with a controlling executive director using a lazy board as explanation for why s/he is controlling.  To the engaged board that doesn’t want to be bothered, I challenge them, if given the chance, to see the centrality of strategic planning to the delivery of mission promises and their execution of their responsibilities as a board.   They generally turn around relatively easily.  Unfortunately, that same opportunity doesn’t normally present itself with a lazy board, as the last thing the controlling executive director wants is an awakened and enlightened board.

In ignoring the right process and cast of characters, no one thinks of what is lost; they only think of getting my way, it is easier and quicker, etc.  But the loss to the organization and ability to push forward that mission is huge.  First, the learning experience that happens for board members during a strategic planning process is lost, and not replaceable by any other experience.

Board members learn more about the mission, clients, the organization, the environment, etc., in going through a planning process than in years of board meetings.

Second, there is a community of “we” that is created during a planning process, as all levels of staff and board members work together over the course of the multiple-month planning process, as opposed to the culture of us versus them that too often prevails in nonprofits.  No “right” planning process, no community of we, as no other activity creates, as a serendipitous byproduct, that community of we.

Third, board members get to do what they thought they were going to do when they joined the board:  use their skills, talents, brain power to help move the organization and its mission delivery forward.  Far too many board, unfortunately, think they need to reserve strategic thinking to strategic planning retreats instead of bringing it to every board meeting.  Thus, that once every three year opportunity to engage the strategic brains of board members is lost.  And fourth, the opportunity to recharge and reinvigorate everyone’s commitment to the mission is absolutely lost, as it is concentrated in the hands of a few.

Instead of running from strategic planning, boards should embrace it.  Instead of “protecting” boards from “having to do” strategic planning, executive directors should hold their feet to the fire and sing the praises of their involvement.  If you are truly committed to the organization’s mission, be you staff or board member, there really is only one “right” way to do strategic planning.

I have no time for an executive director who intentionally shuts out the organization’s board.  Putting it succinctly:  you are a self-aggrandizing, stupid and, might I even go so far as to say evil person?  You know who you are.

Whenever you think it necessary, you say all of the things you think you are supposed to say:  all the different variations of “Woe is me.  My board doesn’t do anything!” You make all of the right noises and say how hard you’ve tried to get them to step up and do their job, blah, blah, blah.  But inside you are rejoicing, as you accomplished your goal.  You have moved your board right to where you want it:  marginalized and staying out of your way!  You want to run the show—all by yourself.

You think you are smarter and better than the board.  But that’s really just another indicator of your foolishness and why the board should immediately let you go.  By failing to recognize the value-add a board can and should bring to a nonprofit and intentionally circumventing it, at best, and castrating it, at worst, you are willfully sacrificing the ability of the organization to maximize the full power of its mission. You deserve to be fired.  Unfortunately, if you are really good, you’ve got the board so far removed it doesn’t realize you work for it rather than the other way around.

On the other hand, I have a tremendous amount of respect for the executive director who works tirelessly to try to engage the board, to get the board to step up and fulfill its responsibility, to do its job–the executive director who really yearns for that partnership between her/him and the board.  You, truly, have tried everything to get the board to step up.  You’ve suggested classes to attend or trainings to bring in.  You’ve told them about books and websites and articles to read.  You’ve invited them to meetings and receptions and still more meetings.  And frequently, they take you up on all of your offers—the classes, the readings, the meetings.  But you still aren’t getting what you want.  You’ve done all that you think you are supposed to do, except for one important thing:  you don’t leave them any room.  Only if you shrink a little will there be room for them to squeeze in.

In other words, you need to dummy up and take a back seat.  All too frequently when I am working with a board and an executive director, I’ll ask a question, unmistakably of the board, and one of two things happens:  either board members—almost in unison as if it were “the board”—turn to the executive director to answer or the executive director just answers immediately, neither getting a signal from the board nor giving individual members time to respond.  Very frequently, if I haven’t already provided instruction in advance of the meeting and asked the executive director not to speak unless I directly address him/her, in the very same breath of asking the question I tell the executive director not to answer.  This always provokes laughter—laughter that starts out as an indication of amusement and quickly turns to discomfort when board members realize I am serious, the executive director will not speak and no board member knows the answer to the question.  The board wants to know the answer, wants to be able to shine, but for so long the executive director has done all of its work, it never learned the answer.  All too frequently, when I am having a brainstorming session with a board, or subset of the board, and the executive director, the executive director is always first to respond to a question, a musing, a suggestion.  Instead of sitting back and giving board members the opportunity to take the lead with their thinking, to flex their mental muscles and creative talents, the executive director is effectively silencing them in the rush to justify him/herself.  You’ve brought them to the table; now give them the opportunity to perform.  They might stumble at first, miss a few beats; eventually, though, if you give them room, they will find their stride and you will have what you wanted:  a partner instead of a dishrag.

If you are an executive director who truly wants a partner in the board, stop answering and doing for the board.   Shut up and count to 100.  Try letting it stand on its own two feet and grow into its position.  You just might be pleased by what happens.

When it comes to reading, I often come intentionally late to the party.  I figure if everyone else is talking about it, I don’t need to be reading it right then as the word is getting out.  Which is why I find myself now, five years after its publication, reading Three Cups of Tea.  It is, as everyone said, a nice read—at least as far as I’ve gotten.

There are many things that one can take away from this book and Greg Mortenson’s story; the one that has me currently thinking might seem inconsequential.  It is the serendipitous path (no pun intended, but those of you who have read the book know that it was losing the path that landed him in Korphe) that turned him from mountain climber to philanthropist.

I have, for a long time, wanted to bottle that thing that makes some people philanthropists while leaving others behind.  And to be clear, the definition of philanthropist in my book does not rest on how much you give, but rather that you give—be it time and/or money—on a regular and consistent basis.  Why do some people make philanthropy a central part of their life, while others barely give it a nod and still others ignore it completely?

There is no doubt that growing up in a philanthropic family is a key factor in creating future philanthropists.  Research tells us that.  And Greg Mortenson had that example.  His parents were responsible for building the first teaching hospital in Tanzania when he was growing up there.  He witnessed the power of philanthropy first hand.

And yet it wasn’t until he stumbled into the remote village of Korphe, Pakistan, whose people took him in and nurtured him back to good health, that he, himself, became a philanthropist.  Impressed by the group of students who sat in the open air and practiced their studies, most doing so in the dirt with sticks, and despite the absence of a teacher, that he knew he wanted to build a school for Korphe, and specifically a school where more than just four girls attended.  But had he been on the path he was supposed to be on, had he not gotten separated from his guide, might he not have become a philanthropist?

And now I learn that there are serious suspicions that Mortenson’s story is fabricated.  He didn’t stumble, lost and confused, into Korphe; there was no nurturing him back to health.  There was, instead, an intentional visit by a healthy Mortenson to Korphe sometime later; a school was built.  It made for a nice story; it sold a lot of books.  But if true, does it change the fact of Mortenson as philanthropist?

Does it matter that he fabricated a story that pulled sufficiently at people’s heartstrings that they gave money to his cause to build schools throughout Pakistan, with a particular emphasis on educating girls?  The suggestion that he has mismanaged and misappropriated funds, if true, absolutely does matter, but that is not the question here.  The question here is whether there is a right or wrong path to becoming a philanthropist?  Is there good and bad philanthropic money?  Boards of directors often laugh at me when I say they need a gift acceptance policy (see “Dirty Money post,” 3/11/11) that is about more than just what kinds of gifts their organizations will accept—stocks, bonds, property, art, cash only?  The idea that gifts might be turned down because of the stock in trade, the ethics, the morality of the donor seems funny to most.  Why, when funds are so tight, would we turn a gift away?

Philanthropists don’t have a lock on moral and ethical behavior just because they want to do good with their time and/or their dollars.  The motivators for doing that good vary greatly:  some do it just to do good, others do it for self-aggrandizement; still others do it for a combination of reasons.

Are there right and wrong kinds of philanthropists?  And if so, how do we leave the replenishment of “the right kind of” philanthropists to chance?

I feel sort of shallow saying this, but don’t judge me until you read it all:  what boiled my blood in reading The Philadelphia Inquirer article reporting on the Board of Directors of the Philadelphia Orchestra voting to declare bankruptcy and file for Chapter 11 reorganization was not the fact that the Board was risking losing this city—and the world—a world class orchestra.

Very, very sad, but it wasn’t what revved my juices.  It wasn’t the fact that the Orchestra was in the position of needing to file for reorganization, despite $140 million in endowment funds (restricted funds, according to the Board).  Again sad, as they hadn’t tried or been able to convert some of those endowment gifts to unrestricted operating costs.  And it wasn’t even the fact that the Board has hired Brian Tierney to do its public relations, something that will be sorely needed in this post-bankruptcy era as it undertakes a $160 million fundraising-campaign.  This is same Brian Tierney who brought The Philadelphia Inquirer to its bankruptcy knees when he was publisher and CEO of that paper and did such a fabulous job handling the PR there.   Incredulous and infuriating, but I think I know why.

No, what boiled my blood was a statement by John Koen, chairman of the players committee.  He voiced what so many nonprofit staff members think:  that management “has not turned over every stone—they haven’t gone to any donor outside their comfort zone—to get the broad-based support” needed to survive.  I read “outside their comfort zone” and the blood just started boiling.  And what about the board?

Honestly? Fundraising, in general, is not in most board members’ comfort zone.  But with time, education and training, practice, and, most importantly, a deep, passionate belief in the mission of an organization and the benefit it brings to society, we can move board members out of their discomfort and they can become decent if not great fundraisers.  After all, fundraising is simply talking.  Talking about your memory of the first time you hear Appalachian Spring by Aaron Copeland or Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 and how your life was changed forever.  Talking about the transformation of a child who goes from flunking to passing a test, the family living shelters and cars moving into its first home or the homebound elder who now receives healthy meals and regular conversation with the delivery of those meals.  Through that talking you are ultimately allowing people to share your passion and be part of your solution.  If we believe and can communicate, we can raise funds that will allow that mission to continue long past our own service on that board.  Only after you have done all of this talking over a good period of time, do you actually ask for money.

That is the first movement out of your comfort zone.  But for too many board members, even this is too difficult or too much trouble or something, because it isn’t getting done.  Recently, I was speaking with a board president who 150% leads by example; he is exceedingly frustrated (and that is putting it nicely!) with the rest of the board members’ refusal—if failure to do something can be interpreted as a refusal—to fundraise.  When I said he has seven months before the organization’s annual gala and suggested he should challenge every board member to start identifying ten new people to invite to that gala, giving him the names as they are identified, he sighed with great disgust.  Last year he asked for names from that first circle—family, friends, colleagues—and got nothing.  He realized he had a very big problem:  h was he going to move them yet further out of their comfort zone?

The second is step out of your comfort zone is moving to the next ring of familiarity from those we know well, who may give because they know and like us as people, to cultivating relationships with others you don’t know so well but who actually believe in the organization’s mission as demonstrated by a variety of things, from having attended the gala for four years running to having made a $25 gift for the 15 years to having made a six figure gift to a like organization where she previously lived.  To do this, however, you, yourself have to a) truly believe in the mission and the social good that mission seeks to accomplish and b) you have to understand that one of your many responsibilities as a board member is to ensure there are sufficient funds to deliver on those mission promise.  Don’t get that, I can guarantee no one will ever move out of their comfort zones.  And more and more staff of nonprofits will find themselves in John Koen’s position:  facing bankruptcy—or worse, going directly to closing—with board members never having moved out of their comfort zones.

While not wanting to make light of the Orchestra’s situation, as I am personally mourning the tarnishing of its luster and coping the disquiet I feel at the thought of its possible disappearance, there is an important lesson here for the tens of thousands of other nonprofit staff and board members who regularly dream about having a board like the big guys—the world recognized orchestras, ballet companies, art museums, etc.  The dream is fueled by the mistaken thinking that they have it easy:  they have rich people on their boards who know rich people and, therefore, all their money needs are answered.  The reality, as demonstrated here and so many other places as well, is very, very different.  Board members are board members are board members, regardless of how much money they purport to have.  At the end of the day, a good board member is one who is passionate about the organization’s work, understand all aspects of her/his job as board member, executes fully that job, and is absolutely willing to move out of her/his comfort zone.