Straitened circumstances

Applications: 2. Rejects: 2. Cups of Coffee: 1 (so far). Litres of rainwater absorbed by my underwear on the way to work: 4.7

Is the present economic climate a tough challenge for charities? No doubt. Individual giving will surely be massively squeezed as people seek necessarily to trim their budgets. Companies too are feeling decidedly less generous. I heard recently of one of the UK's biggest companies pulling out of a commitment to provide a few thousand quid and the use of a conference room for a couple of days.

But what of grant-making trusts? Well, let me tell you, the asset values of our investment portfolios have plunged by 25-40% in just three months. Our balance sheets look as scary as ****. But this is only bad news if you want to sell. They'll surely bounce back. And of course a drop in asset values is different to a drop in the income derived from those investments, which is the really important figure. It'll fall, for sure, but if our investment managers do their job it'll be by less than the 25%+ we've lost in capital values. And we do have reserves.

So, whilst I've been at pains to point out that Trusts are not just branches of one large charitable bank that you can just stake a claim to a reasonable share of, we are perhaps a bit of a refuge in times of trouble. So don't stop asking!

Some statistics

Applications: 0. (Why?) Cups of coffee: 2. Tasks on the go all at the same time: 53. Grey hairs: many more than this morning.

At our latest Trustees meeting, a total of nine grants were approved, whilst thirty were either rejected at the meeting or intercepted by the Chairman in order to keep the meeting snappy. That suggests a 23% chance of success. However, if you consider that around 90% of applications we receive are so far beyond our criteria that they get filed WPB on arrival, the success rate looks more like 2.3%.

Should you, dear fundraiser, find this enormously disheartening? (After all, I don’t believe that we’re atypical.) Actually, I would say no. Because taking a very unscientific look at the success rate of those applications which clearly meshed with our criteria – geographic and thematic, looks to be in the range of 50-80%.

The lesson? Read the guidelines, friends. The challenge? Publicise them better, colleagues! And don’t be scared to pick up the phone, and so save a lot of time and heartache all round.

Keep them rolling in

Applications: 4. Rejects: 0. Minutes spent in bewildered joy at receiving four eminently suitable applications: at least 15.

Marvellous! Four really rather promising applications in today, that we might actually be able to give some money to. Stand by your phones, I could well be requesting an ikkle visit sometime soon.

One thing that I hear a lot from my Trustees is how they wish that charities would be more amenable to forming partnerships; avoiding duplication whilst recognising their 'distinctives'; not being so territorial, not being so competitive.

Well heck, I don't think now is a time for charities to become less competitive for funds! Or is it? I spent much of my time as a fundraiser asserting the 'sovereignty' of my organisation, trying to persuade donors that we were the best, the most expert. And even in my current role, I find myself nodding and saying 'yes sir', not entirely convinced of the logic.

Yet it seems to be the vogue at the moment - and if it really is possible, brilliant!

How much time are you able to spare?

Applications: 3. Rejects: 3. Realisations that we need to better publicise our grants criteria: 3.

As I’ve noted in my rather “maternalistic” general advice in the right-hand column, we grantmakers don’t, as a general rule, like to be visited. At least I don’t. Like a cat, I’m a bit territorial. I wish I’d had an insight into this feeling when I was working for an operational charity and was given an annual target of meeting at least half of my Trusts contacts, which invariably meant going to see them. I never succeeded in securing an invitation and was always fobbed off – until I started my current job, I thought there must have been something wrong with me. (B.O. detectable down the phone line, perhaps?) The reasoning was that we were based some way out of London and people would never want to make the journey out to see us, and asking them to do so would be presumptuous in the extreme.

AU CONTRAIRE! As a grantmaker I love a) getting out of the office, b) seeing organisations getting on with the work we’re supporting even if it just seems like any old office to you, and c) getting out of London.

But I do wonder whether making lots of visits, as I try to do, is taking up the valuable time of smaller organisations? I know full well that meeting donors is the full-time fundraiser’s icing-on-the-cake, and that nothing takes a higher priority, but if I’m meeting the CEO or an operational manager of a small charity, I do have to wonder whether I’m breaking a golden rule. I don’t tend to hang around for more than an hour or so, don’t expect a red carpet, and am always well-received (natch!) but there is of course preparation time and disruption to activities to factor in.

As I’ve noted before, the hands-on approach is pretty radical, especially for small to medium sized grantmakers, so it will be interesting to see how it smooths out. It would be awful if charities were having to garner and expend large resources simply to meet the demands of a million and one different funders. That lesson has been taught before, and shouldn’t need to be repeated.

Do BACS payments spoil the fun?

Applications: 2. Rejects: 1. Cups of coffee: 0 (no time!). Minutes lost to the ineptitude of Network Rail: 43.

Back in the day, my fundraising team lived for the moment when a cheque arrived in the post. It would usually come stapled to a compliment slip or a brief letter, and would arrive without any warning - this was when funders were more secretive than Mi5. You could always tell when an envelope was likely to enclose a cheque. Often, you could see it through the thin white paper. You'd pretend to open it with perfect nonchalance, as you tried to stop your hands from shaking - fearing that your heart might literally burst through your chest. And then the moment - who from? How much??! £15,000??! Ker-ching! Ring the bell! (We really did have a bell each for just that purpose!)

Not long after defecting to the dark side, I had the joy of calling an applicant to tell them that they had been awarded a grant of over £30,000. I could imagine vividly the fundraiser bursting at the seams as I calmly explained that I would like the organisation's bank details to be emailed so as to make payment by BACS. The reply came "of course!" Followed by "oooh, I'm going to have to ring my bell now! Erm, yeah. We, like, have a bell we ring when we, erm, y'know..."

"Don't worry, I replied - I do know. I've been there. Knock yourself out."

Said fundraiser's joy didn't seem to be diminshed by the more forthright approach of telephoning - perhaps, as this is quite a radical new idea to most funders, the joy of surprise was actually greater. The absence of a cheque didn't seem to diminsh the joy.

But what do you think? Not just on the "joy" issue, but on the practicalities generally? Are BACS payments a positive development? (They're certainly cheaper for us!) Are they easier for YOU to administer? Do you have any concerns - security for example?

Do feel free to leave a comment by clicking below.

What a day

Applications: 5. Rejects: 5 (!). Successful applications due for payment: 10(hooray!). Cups of coffee: 0. Smug feelings: 174.

Major meeting this morning, at which I enjoyed being thoroughly well-prepared and Swiss-watch efficient, providing a range of concise and useful papers right on cue. Box files are great - and mine was flipping open and shut discreetly yet authoritatively throughout the meeting. Brilliant.

Don't doubt for a moment that I know what a hard time fundraisers have putting applications together. But spare a thought for us as we try to keep track of you all and what you're saying to us!

Anyway, lest I've sounded like a bit of a grumpy old eeyore so far, let me share with you what the absolute bestest part of my job is. It's giving away money - to those who've successfully run the gauntlet of my stress and the Trustees' pecadillos. Tomorrow I hope to be able to notify a batch of successful applicants that their applications have been approved, and that their grant payment will be on its way soon. I hope perhaps that some of the applicants might let me come and see what they've been up to. That's the bestest bestest part of the job.

Don't get on our nerves!

Applications: 2. Rejects: 2. Cups of coffee: 4. Petty annoyances blown out of all proportion: lost count.

There was a man standing next to me on the train tonight who, in the parallel universe where I'm not a softie and don't work with Charities, got soundly bopped on the head.

But perhaps I was feeling a bit prickly today. Receiving an entire fundraising presentation on my voicemail at lunchtime didn't exactly improve my mood. Please, fundraisers of the world, take note: there's nothing wrong with calling a funder to run an idea past them, but before you do, have the foresight to prepare what you'd like to say if you do have to leave a message after the bleep, and DON'T just reel off everything that you would have said if you had gotten through. Keep it very brief and to the point.

(Note to self: investigate how to set up voicemail so that it cuts off after 40 seconds or so, as some do.)

I stuck at your message for quite a while. But then I remembered that I'm not getting any younger and pressed 'delete'. I'm afraid, whoever you are, that you hadn't even given your name and number by that point. Sorry.

Looking for partners

Applications: 4. Rejects: 3. Cups of Coffee:2. Opportunities to get out of the office: 1 (troubleshooting so def not fun).

An unusually low number of applications for a Thursday. Typically, and with the usual regret, three of the four which arrived were well outside our criteria, and will be getting the dreaded "no" letter in a few weeks or so. One of these, however, was a real 'hit-and-hope'. "We're launching a wonderfully innovative service. We haven't deigned to describe what we'll do, how we match your criteria, or why we're worth supporting, but we are nonetheless hoping to build partnerships with Trusts and Foundations." Well, who isn't? What makes you different to the other 100,000 charities that would like to get more funding from private grantmakers? That's what I want to know. Since it wasn't strictly an "application", I'm afraid your letter was filed WPB - not even in the pile for a "no". Sorry.

I wonder if some CEOs get a bit carried away by the headline figures of mutiple billions of pounds being given away by Trusts every year, and think that if they can get x% of those billions, all their problems are solved. I also wonder if their poor fundraising staff are put under unrealistic pressures to raise a certain figure, without a realistic appraisal of whether it's going to be feasible. Are there enough funders willing to support YOUR work? That's the key question. Break the billions down, and within you will find realism. We're not just branches of a very large charitable bank, we're all essentially groups of people with our own priorities and our own philanthropic "personalities."

That's partly why I'm starting this blog. I've alternated between being a grantmaker and fundraiser for my entire career. Being a fundraiser is hard. I know that if I had had an opportunity to glance daily at the experiences of a grantmaker, I would have grabbed it with both hands - even if it was just an anonymous and relatively humdrum description of what they were up to day-to-day. Hence, being a grantmaker once more, I thought that I would try to offer that opportunity. I hope that what I write will be both interesting and useful; helping to cross the no-man's-land between the grantmaking trench and the fundraising trench. For trench warfare it isn't, even if it feels like it sometimes. When all's said and done we're on the same team, trying to help in whatever way we can.

If I can help fundraisers to get a feel for the everyday work of a grantmaker, and to see that we're really just overworked and put-upon office bunnies too, I hope that it will be worth it.