Applications: 7. Rejects: 5. Things to do before I go on holiday: 400. Sheets of paper under my control: 4,000,000,000,000
Naturally, dear fundraiser, you want everybody to know more about your work, and to develop an enthusiasm about it. And I am enthusiastic - whatever it is that you do. I wouldn't - couldn't - do this job unless I was.
But sadly, there are only so many hours in the day. Some charities send me stuff, and I always read it. Others send me things, and I just don't have the time. It goes in one of the drawers in the picture. Nineteen drawers, all fairly full with only 4-5 years worth of literature from organisations that we've given grants to. If you go "in the drawer", it's not necessarily a bad thing. I may know a lot about your organisation and be very confident in your work - only fishing out your magazine when you apply again, or send a report which will need to go to the Trustees.
Strangely, I find myself agreeing with the "don't send me glossy literature!" mob. I opposed them vehemently when I was in Marketing - naturally - but there's a measure of truth in what grumpier donors say, when they mumble into their cornflakes about not needing all this bumpf.
At the same time, it does mean that you don't get forgotten! And it is almost always good stuff. I'm not saying don't send it. But please think of the filing cabinets when you do. And the trees...
Set a communications objective, a strategy for every donor, every trust, every "account". If you get an inkling that your stuff might not be welcome, best to err on the side of caution. If I, running a medium-sized grantmaking operation full-time, find it all a bit overwhelming and have to devote some much time and space to filing it, imagine how a small family trust running out of someone's study would feel...
Naturally, dear fundraiser, you want everybody to know more about your work, and to develop an enthusiasm about it. And I am enthusiastic - whatever it is that you do. I wouldn't - couldn't - do this job unless I was.
But sadly, there are only so many hours in the day. Some charities send me stuff, and I always read it. Others send me things, and I just don't have the time. It goes in one of the drawers in the picture. Nineteen drawers, all fairly full with only 4-5 years worth of literature from organisations that we've given grants to. If you go "in the drawer", it's not necessarily a bad thing. I may know a lot about your organisation and be very confident in your work - only fishing out your magazine when you apply again, or send a report which will need to go to the Trustees.
Strangely, I find myself agreeing with the "don't send me glossy literature!" mob. I opposed them vehemently when I was in Marketing - naturally - but there's a measure of truth in what grumpier donors say, when they mumble into their cornflakes about not needing all this bumpf.
At the same time, it does mean that you don't get forgotten! And it is almost always good stuff. I'm not saying don't send it. But please think of the filing cabinets when you do. And the trees...
Set a communications objective, a strategy for every donor, every trust, every "account". If you get an inkling that your stuff might not be welcome, best to err on the side of caution. If I, running a medium-sized grantmaking operation full-time, find it all a bit overwhelming and have to devote some much time and space to filing it, imagine how a small family trust running out of someone's study would feel...
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