Cookies of the Rising Sun

The bakery on my block is selling “Cookies of the Rising Sun.”  Cookies decorated in the colors of the Japanese flag, their profits dedicated to a fund for the displaced in Japan.

The exercise studio in my neighborhood is running mat classes at which they’re selling “Red Sun Mermaid” t-shirts, with proceeds going to the Japanese Relief Effort.

A group of artisanal breweries is hosting a Brewery bash to help Japanese beer and sake brewers in affected areas.

Giving begins at home.  With who you are, and what you have to offer.  And sometimes, taken from this stance, giving back spurs creativity and results in events far more personal than a straightforward dinner-dance. 

This kind of giving – localized giving, based on who we are and what we do in the world – is collective.  It takes an everyday community, of bakers and munchers…exercisers and trainers… and elevates that activity to a loftier purpose.  It takes our actions dedicated to ourselves, and redirects them to others.

Back in 2008, my kids sold lemonade, along with a number of their classmates, to benefit the Obama campaign.  That’s what kids do – set up lemonade stands.  But here the purpose wasn’t to subsidize yet another Lego set or computer game – it was a higher social good.  So, too, with the brewers, the trainers, and the bakers.

Giving begins with the heart.  What can you extend to the world, and how can you shape it to benefit others?

Remember To Breathe

“As you know things are getting more difficult and crazy here.”

That’s a quote from a friend who went over to Japan just before the tsunami to visit with her elderly parents. And now she’s stuck there.

“They need me for keep their life” she tried to explain to those of us in the States who’ve been begging her to come back to New York.

The burdens…the joys…and the ties…of family.

I wrote back to her immediately sending all my love and energy – and reminding her to take 20 minutes each day to remember that she is loved.

“It’s Good To Breathe” I intoned. In what I hope was a soothing manner.

And then I thought about that metaphor.

Isn’t that what we in the nonprofit sector are trying to do, every day?

Hold up people who need us for keep their life?

Someone asked me the other day why Cause Effective was a nonprofit. At first I was astonished, because it’s so ingrained in me that we’re in it for the social good. Then I realized he was wondering why some “fundraising consulting firms” were organized as for-profits, yet we who did similar work were not.

And it has to do with where we’re coming from. To hold up people who need us for keep their life.

Our abiding belief, at Cause Effective, is that every group that’s vital to its community has a nascent funding base. That every community-based association has its audience, its fans, its donors-in-waiting. And that it’s our fiercely-held mission to help each nonprofit find and connect with the donors right around them…in their home.

My friend in Japan is determined not to leave her parents behind, and she’s trying to convince them to come back with her to the States. But they’re stubborn, and stuck in their ways, and they don’t want to leave their home. Even if scads of radioactivity might be headed their way.

Isn’t that who we’re here for? The most vulnerable of us, the most stubborn and committed, the most loved? People who need us for keep their life?

So for all of us, a reminder: It’s Good To Breathe.

For their sake, as well as ours. For the long haul.

Sorry-Grateful

Not to quote Stephen Sondheim or anything, but these lines are resounding in my head:

You're sorry-grateful

Regretful-happy

Why look for answers

Where none occur…

March into April is always a reflective time of year for me – close enough to the end of our fiscal year that I can pretty much tell where we’re headed, yet far enough out that we can still affect the outcomes. Raise more, spend less… those are always my conundrums. How do I find more resources to support my terrific staff, yet at the same time staunch the flow of any expenses that seem optional at this point in time? This is a yearly Spring dance, made even more critical in the past few years by the relentless outside economic pressures.

You'll always be

What you always were

You're always wondering what might have been…

I’m starting to create forecasts for my FY 2012 budget, and trying to figure out how to put the pieces together. And I’m having déjà vu. Haven’t I been here before? It’s like trying to close a pair of pants that don’t quite fit – making the way I want to grow my agency (expanded program = increased expenses) fit the income I can see coming down the pike.

Everything's different

Nothing's changed

Only maybe slightly rearranged…

So why sorry-grateful?

Sorry that the dance is never-ending; that the age-old stress of making ends meet is magnified at so many levels in the not-for-profit world – in my own agency, a back-end provider of support to nonprofits; in the nonprofits themselves on the front lines; and in the individuals whose lives are touched & whose dignity is saved, through the work of those nonprofits.

Grateful that we have the work we do, that it does so much good, and that there’s an incredibly gifted and committed community of people doing it. And that we do have the resources to keep going, when so many don’t.

Rueful…yet blessed.

The Power of Food/The Power of Community

I went to a tasting today – or, rather, I went to an outpouring of love.

It was a dessert cook-off. People prepared their standout recipes, and competed for various prizes. They paid to get in – a sliding scale that started low and rose pretty high, with the only differential being someone’s capacity to write checks – and the rest of the community, the non-chefs, paid to come in as well.

What did we get?

A chance to peak inside the kitchens of our fellow community members; a chance to appreciate good cooking in the company of our peers; and a chance to laugh together as we attempted the absurd task of trying 50 or so desserts in an hour’s time.

And the ability to cheer each other on (especially the kids – there was a special Junior Chefs division with about 10 contestants).

Food = Love. An age-old theme.

But even more than that, this showed me, once again, the power of special events if they’re really well-designed for the community at hand. We all went home with a glow – and the organization raised some dollars, increased awareness, and created an even tighter bond between participants.

Now I have to come clean – my 12-year-old son and his friend won second prize for their delicious chocolate chip cookies, so the event had a very satisfying end for them. But even before that dénouement, they basked in the appreciation of the 100+ participants, supported each other’s creations, and marveled at the variety of chocolate cakes in the world…while having no idea they were involved in a nonprofit fundraising venture.

They were simply having fun.

We Have A Long Way To Go

That’s what the executive director of a group that’s been totally funded by government for the last 30 years said to me last week.

And amazingly enough, she said it cheerfully.

“We could be making so much more from our event – we make $25,000 and we don’t do a thing,” she explained. “We don’t even ask people – we have over 100 vendors and we don’t ask them for a thing.”

Once her eyes had been opened, she could see what a journey they could take – and the same can-do nature that enabled her to lead a nonprofit with over 100 social work staff kicked in to connect fundraising with her zest for the job.

It’s this can-do nature – so prevalent in the nonprofit universe – that makes change possible, and that, ultimately, leads to institutional resilience. We’re certainly not in it for the money; that same blind determination that leads some people to found nonprofits leads others to run institutions they haven’t founded, even in the face of adversity.

Somehow, we’re optimists – we believe we can make a difference, and that we will – that somehow it’s going to work out. Because it must.

Why else would we still be here, after the battering we’ve been taking for the last 24 months?

I myself am inspired by the fact that this ED saw the glass half-full – she saw where they could go, and how far they were from their destination – and instead of despair, she saw the opportunity for progress.

Now there’s a life lesson…