Everyone Is a Fundraiser (Really)

Years ago, when I was hiring, I would often interview candidates coming from the corporate sector – unquestionably good and smart people. The number one reason I would hear for the sector switch was that they wanted to find more purpose in their work – not have everything be about money all the time. 

My internal monologue? “If you’re looking for a place where you don’t think about money all the time, you’ve come to the wrong place.” 

Now these were almost always mission-driven people – genuinely on a search for meaning and purpose in their careers. In that sense, they had very much come to the right place.

I wasn’t concerned with their sincerity or intent.

But I was like an audience member at a horror flick who knew what was waiting for them in that abandoned house. Why free yourself of thinking about money by going to a place where people cry into the cheap beers they can afford about how no one wants to give them general operating support?

Not one to rain on anyone’s parade (and truly hoping to attract great people to the sector), I would try to reframe the situation for them to test their awareness and readiness.

I would say, “I hear that you don’t want to be focused on money, but I also want you to know that everyone in every area of a nonprofit is a fundraiser.”

And wait…

Most of the time, I would get a polite nod or confused look or the assurance that they were 100% aware of how critical fundraising success is. I was happier when, on occasion, I got a thoughtful, “Could you say more about that?”

Because what I meant – and what they inferred – were often two very different things.

Many people gasped in horror (like the person who walked into the abandoned house), thinking I meant that everyone is expected to ask for money.

It’s hard for many of us to square “purpose” and “money.” If you can’t, though, the nonprofit sector may not be for you (or at least as long as we live in a capitalist society).

Let me explain more before I get to the joy of fundraising (which I truly love). 

Part of the transition from the for-profit to nonprofit worlds requires an understanding of the operating model of each and how they differ.  That’s what changed my view of fundraising. 

As Jim Collins put it so well in Good to Great and the Social Sectors, “In business, money is both an input (a resource for achieving greatness) and an output (a measure of greatness). In the social sectors, money is only an input, and not a measure of greatness.”

Nonprofits don’t sell a product or a service in the traditional sense. We raise money on a promise that we will make the world a better place in some way.

Sure, you might buy tickets to a show or pay for a class, but we don’t want you to feel like you’ve made a purchase exclusively.  We want you to connect to the purpose that inspires the organization to mount the show or offer the class.

We want the transaction to be different from buying a laptop, ice cream cone, or tarot card reading.

We provide the input because we care about the outcome, no matter how hard it is to define. Change is slow and challenging to measure – certainly harder than measuring the value of a day at the spa or the scented candle you bought after.

And because of that, the person who gives isn’t just completing a transaction – they’re investing trust in the work.  The money is a symbol of that trust.

They want to see their gift through to the perceived end of its use and to understand how, and whether, the world is different because they contributed.

They care about it until their gift has been fully expended – which is a much longer time than it takes you to determine that the Uber ride, Grubhub order, or Amazon delivery was acceptable before you forget about it.

This (TADA!) is why fundraising isn’t exclusively financial and why everyone is a fundraiser.

Contributions help others understand the work, deepen their connection to it, and to feel a part of something bigger. We don’t pay for something and then forget about the payment we made.

And…we don’t just pay in money. We pay with our time, donations of goods, and by sharing the story about work we are deeply committed to.

Fundraising isn’t just about raising money; it’s about bringing more people into close proximity to the work itself. And each person who is a part of the work – anyone who interacts with anyone from the community – represents and embodies the mission.

So, everyone is a fundraiser – staff members, board members, community members. Each connection we make encourages someone to become more committed to the work, stay neutral, or become less committed. 

We need to enter the work with a mindset of expanding the circle of people who love the mission. Some will give money, some will provide services for free (that you used to pay for in the corporate sector), some will volunteer on your programs, and some will show up with nonperishable food, gently used clothing, or school supplies.

Whatever they bring, they bring the same mindset – one of having made a gift and caring how that gift is used to make the world a better place.

That’s what I meant in those interviews.

One important addition. Embodying the mission does not mean burning yourself out. Sleepwalking and bursting into tears don’t communicate love for the work. Supporters may not always express it, but they want you to be fully present and energized – they want to the work to be delivered effectively. You can share your energy and passion with someone only when you have it to offer.

If we think of fundraising as only asking for money, many run in a panic, hoping they don’t get caught by the machete-wielding revenue monster. And for staff, fundraisers sit in quarantine in their department as the rest of the team views revenue generation as a necessary evil. Eye rolls and grunts greet the development team’s requests for stories, introductions, or impact numbers.

For leaders, defining fundraising exclusively as asking for money leads to a pervasive tension in the culture – a deficit-based mindset that permeates all aspects of the work. Each person we meet is a chance to move away from a scarcity mentality.

Which is why those interviews mattered.

I wasn’t trying to scare anyone away from the sector (my haunted house references notwithstanding). I was looking for an abundance mindset (although I admit I was not 100% clear on that then – this was a dawning awareness).

I was trying to understand whether they were ready for the real work – not just delivering programs or working on our finances but carrying the story of why those programs matter – loving the work so much that they couldn’t help but tell the story and help to expand resources however they could.

They needed to understand that the work is infused in every conversation, every connection, every moment someone decides whether the mission is worth believing in.

It’s simple, really.  Everyone is a fundraiser.

If this resonates, I’d be glad to continue the conversation — feel free to reach out. You can comment below, email me at gary@garybagley.com or DM me on LinkedIn