Truth Always Wins

There’s a brilliant scene in the 2015 movie “Concussion” when Dr. Bennet Omalu (played by Will Smith) realized he’s kicked a sleeping bear.

Dr. Omalu’s research shows the brutal damage of repeated hits from football, America’s classic pastime. He warned people not to play the game, a blasphemy for nearly every red-blooded American male and the extremely lucrative college and pro football industry. The movie was absolutely brilliant, and I’ve always believed Smith should have been nominated for an Oscar for his performance.

I’ve also always believed the first person who tells a hard truth pays a steep price. “Concussion” is an exploration of those uncomfortable truths and how society treats the people who speak with candor and honesty.

Truth isn’t welcomed when people don’t want to hear it.

Truth doesn’t always matter when it goes against the grain.

Truth – and the first people who speak it – will be shredded, vilified and discredited.

The first people who said smoking was bad for us were laughed out of the room, usually by smokers who had a cigarette smoldering in an ashtray on their desk.

Everyone smoked – in the office, at the bar, at home, in the car. Lighting a woman’s cigarette was flirtation, an important step in that age-old dance between lovers.

It took decades for the truth of smoking to emerge, years of training elementary school kids about its dangers, increased taxes to discourage purchases, and stricter limits where smoking was allowed.

And yet, truth always wins.

The parables we grew up with reinforce this concept. The Greek goddess Cassandra who would foretell the future but was never heeded or believed. Hans Christian Andersen’s folktale “The Emperor’s New Clothes” tells about a little boy who is laughed at and ridiculed for pointing out those new clothes really aren’t there.

Truth requires all of us to be the person who points out that the Emperor is not wearing any clothes.

The first person who speaks those uncomfortable truths must be prepared to pay the price. Unfair or not – it’s what will happen.

Truth requires honesty.

Truth requires a long game.

But it’s worth it.

Because truth always wins.

Life Lessons for 2023

It’s been several years since I did an annual Life Lessons post. They all seemed to be so bitter, so negative. When I was done typing, I’d invariably end up deleting them. So, as I approach 10 years as a single woman, did actual Christmas gift shopping and mailed out Christmas cards, here goes:

Colleen’s Life Lesson 2023

#1: Modern Medicine is nothing more than highly educated guesses. My Mom has had several heart scares this year, and I’ve struggled with my medications that allow me to live with Musical Ear Syndrome. The best medicine is a doctor’s education and experiences with patients who have similar conditions. When the patient doesn’t respond like everyone else or the condition is so rare even the specialists have never treated a case, treatment is mere guesswork. That’s not to underestimate doctors, surgeons, PAs or any other medical professional. But it is merely all highly educated guesses. I’ve been fortunate to work in partnership with my therapist, my psychiatrist, my surgeon and my PCP – all of whom have helped me come up with therapies and combinations of medications to survive MES and the stress it creates. But it has been all guesswork, trial attempts to find what works. Same for my Mom.

#2: I’m not interested in dating or having a partner in my life. After 10 years of living single, I’ve become very protective of my home, my time and my energy. For the first time, I actually had a few dates this past year. Met some nice guys and a random few not-so-nice guys. Part of my reluctance is that I always put my husband’s and my son’s needs before my own when I was married. Everything was focused around their jobs, careers, hobbies and education. Whatever I wanted was acceptable only so long as it didn’t interfere with their plans. I refuse to live like that ever again – and sometimes that’s what it takes for a relationship to work. So, sorry guys, I really believe I will be #single4life and I’m actually kind of enjoying it for a change.

#3: If you’re not likeable, you’re career is going nowhere. This has always been the hardest concept for me to accept. I’ve always believed that hard work, dedication and evolving skills were always more important in a person’s career advancement. I prided myself on always meeting deadlines, doing my best work and being eager to take on new challenges that forced me to learn new skills. But the sad reality is that none of that matters one tiny bit if you act like a jerk at work. The boss has to like you to get ahead. It’s really that simple. Maya Angelou was on to something when she said people will forget what you said or what you did, but they always remember the way you made them feel.

So there you have it – three life lessons that this past year has taught me. What has 2023 taught you? Please comment below!

A Twitter Friend Gone Too Soon

Back in 2010, Twitter (now known as X) was on fire in Boise, Idaho.

It’s how I was able to connect with PR people and explore the job market in this rare politically blue community nestled in a deeply red state when I moved there in December 2010. It’s how I came to know dozens of people I now consider friends and colleagues. People like Karen Rush Wilson (@KarenR-W), Jessica Flynn (@JessFlynn) of Red Sky, and so many others. It’s how I learned about @CaretoShareBoise and was able to get involved with my community.

Believe it or not, Twitter was how I learned my work at @WCA_Boise had earned Idaho Press Association awards after I left Idaho. Sadly, Twitter is also how I learned of the passing of two people I had come to know through this rarely used social media channel.

In early 2017, the beautiful soul Terri Nicholson died and her husband Scott posted a wonderful photo of her with the announcement. We had several Twitter chats during my time in Idaho, and I still follow her wonderful Twitter feed at @wwwrote. She conquered cancer once, but it returned and won the second round.

Late Friday, Sept. 22, 2023, I happened to catch a post on LinkedIn about the sudden passing of J.J. Saldana (@jjsaldana). He was so much larger than life – on Twitter and in real life. I left Idaho 10 year ago, and J.J. and I still tweeted to each other now and then. Like Terri, he died much too young.

I watched the tweets appear as news spread. J.J.’s friends and close colleagues from all over the Pacific Northwest expressed shock and grief in touching tributes to his work and his flamboyant personality. Fellow Voce board member described his death as “a rip in the universe.” in this excellent story by @DonLDay of @BoiseDev.

Sadly, so many of the people I came to know through Twitter I’ve never met in real life. I never had a chance to meet Terri. J.J. and I only met once – a chance meeting at a popular downtown Boise coffee shop that’s now closed.

When I shared on Twitter that I was leaving Idaho, J.J. tweeted: “We’ll always have Thomas Hammer.”

Godspeed, J.J. Rest in Peace.

Older and Wiser, But Never Invisible

I don’t remember exactly when this picture was taken. My best guess is the spring of 1987, when I was 21. It was the ’80s when we all had frizzy permed hair, toned arms and slender legs.

Heavens, those legs. I was a wild child.

Now, more than 35 years later, my hair is straight and fully silver; my body much, much rounder. I have surgical scars, stretch marks and batwing arms. My body has writhed in equal measures of pleasure and pain. It conceived two babies — my now grown son and the one I never talk about.

According to French Author Yann Moix, I’m now “invisible” because my body isn’t “extraordinary” like it was in my 20s. Of course, I don’t look the same. I don’t wear sleeveless shirts anymore. I don’t hike up my skirt to show off my legs. In fact, I’m painfully shy about being naked.

Yet, I am so much more woman – more wise, more deliberate and more powerful. According to The New York Times, the U.S. Census documents more women over 50 in the United States than ever before. Susan Douglas, a University of Michigan professor of communication studies, is writing a book about this changing demographic. 

“Older women are now saying ‘No, I’m still vibrant, I still have a lot to offer, and I’m not going to be consigned to invisibility,’ ” she said. “These women are reinventing what it means to be an older woman.”

I won’t ever be the wild child I was in the spring of 1987. I’ll never be the devoted wife, the stay-at-home mom or the trailing spouse. Those women are gone.

My future remains a blank page, the pen firmly in my grip, waiting to be written.

Red Letter Dates

We all have red letter dates littered throughout our lives.

November 8, 1965

The day we were born. The days when loved ones died.

August 15, 1988

Days that brought pure joy, or conversely, deep loss and sadness.

October 28, 1989

We mark them each year, sometimes with a quiet nod. A little smile. Others by pulling the covers over our heads and staying in bed.

January 16, 1991

Even if we forget sometimes, our bodies keep score. Reminding us with a rumbling tummy, a slight headache or a general feeling of dread.

March 14, 2014

Sometimes we smile and delight in a cherished memory. Sometimes those memories are dust causing tears to trickle down our cheeks.

July 7, 2014

They are the dates that clearly mark who we were before, shattering every aspect of the life we’d known and lived. The Before.

August 15, 2014

We take those shards of our soul to create something different. With each step forward on this new “after” path, we find more pieces, different parts of ourselves.

And we create a mosaic from the broken shards, rediscover parts we thought we’d lost and explore a path so different from anything we’d ever imagined.

The goal is to accept what comes After, to craft something whole and beautiful from the pieces left. To be better, not bitter.

Liars and Other Charlatans

As the spokesperson a large state agency, reporters often asked me for confidential information. Many times, state law prevented me from providing the information.

My PRSA Code of Ethics also prevented me from lying. I couldn’t say, “I don’t know” or “I don’t have that information” when I honestly did. Instead, I pointed the reporter to the exact Michigan law that prevented me from sharing the information, often using a phrase like, “I would love to share this information with you, but legally, I cannot. I must comply with the law.”

My mentor once expressed his philosophy on lying quite succinctly:

You lie; you die – at least professionally.

He’s right. Liars have no place in the business world. And yet, right now, “truth” seems to be open for interpretation. (That’s another blog post for the future.)

White Lies Are NOT Kind

We are conditioned to tell white lies, those little half-truths that allow us to get along and go along with the crowd. And they’re just as damaging in the long run.

If someone asks you how they look, you can be kind AND truthful. If someone is sporting a truly awful look, be kind. “You know, I’m not a fan of that style of dress/shirt/jacket, but the color certainly brings out your eyes.”

Or another option: “Do you like it? Because that’s really all that matters! You should always wear things that make you feel confident.”

White lies are like a gateway drug. They signal to everyone that it’s okay to tell half-truths which lead to bigger, more dangerous lies.

Liars Create a Toxic Workplace

One of the questions I often was asked in job interviews was what did I need from my supervisor to be successful. My answer was always the same: “I need honesty and trust from my boss.”

Certainly there are times when my boss cannot share information. If the boss ever says, “I’m sorry, but I can’t share those details right now” then the conversation ends. It’s truthful; it show integrity and demonstrates respect for confidentiality.

I respect honesty and forthright communication, even when information cannot be shared for legitimate reasons.

But, if your boss lies to you, trust is destroyed. Any hope of an honest, respectful professional relationship is gone. If senior leadership routinely provides false information, the workplace is toxic.

You simply can’t trust that anyone will do right by you – no matter what you do in that environment.

Men Behaving Badly and the Missing Woman

Once again, we’re talking about two men and their bad behavior. One told a crass joke. The other slapped him and used profanity during a live broadcast.

Lost in this whole debate over who did wrong is the woman who was wronged by BOTH men.

Her name is Jada Pinkett Smith, an actress and singer, named by Time magazine in 2021 as one of the 100 most influential people in the world. She also has an autoimmune condition, alopecia, which causes hair loss. To cope with this condition, she frequently shaves her head or wears her hair very closely cropped.

The comedian who was hosting the awards show on Sunday night told a crass joke about Pinkett Smith’s appearance and her hair. I purposely refuse to mention his name or link to the gazillion pieces about his so-called “joke.” First of all, in what world is any woman’s appearance a joke? Women do not exist to be pleasing to men or anyone else. Tall, short, fat, skinny, athletic, clumsy, blonde, brunette, redhead or gray – we aren’t here to be fashion plates or uphold some idealized image of beauty and grace.

And yet, we are….

Pinkett Smith grimaced after the comedian told his joke, frowned in what appeared to be dismay. Her husband saw her reaction and bounded up on the stage during a live broadcast and slapped the comedian. When he returned to his seat, he shouted, “Keep my wife’s name our of your fucking mouth.”

Some people view the actions of Pinkett Smith’s husband positively, that he was standing up for his wife and protecting her honor. His actions demonstrate love and respect for his wife.

Bullshit!

Pinkett Smith is not her husband’s property. She’s most definitely her own person and completely capable of defending herself against crass jokes. This is a woman named one of the most influential women in the world! She doesn’t need a man to fight her battles for her.

But we have fallen into the trap of viewing her husband’s actions as heroic, that a man who resorts to violence – whether an open handed slap, a baseball bat or a hail of bullets – is a hero when he’s defending a woman. Think of A Time to Kill or a more recent storyline on A Million Little Things.

Hey guys, let me clue you in on a key piece of advice: When a woman is abused – whether she’s the butt of a joke or viciously raped – sit down, shut up and let her tell you what she needs from you to support her.

Pinkett Smith has all but disappeared from the media stories about the two men and the slap heard ’round the world. The headlines about her are all about how “brave” she is for talking about her alopecia and “going public” with her struggles. As if her hair and how she wears it are anyone’s business.

I watched my sister struggle with hair loss during her chemotherapy. Another dear friend shed tears when she shaved her head during chemo. I colored my own hair for decades to hide the gray. I am guilty of clicking on pictures whenever the Duchess of Cambridge wears her long, chestnut locks in a new style. We are conditioned to view women’s hair as their shining glory.

Meanwhile, we perpetuate these twin myths: that women are there for the male view and that women need a man to defend their honor.

Instead the woman who has been abused has disappeared from the headlines and the debate again focuses on the rightness or wrongness of male actions.

As if the woman never really existed at all — except for her missing hair.

Is Fundraising an Art or a Science?

You meet your donor for coffee and chat about what’s happening in her life. Mostly it’s personal stuff, but you smile, nod and sip your coffee.

She asks about one of your nonprofit’s program and you’re prepared with solid stats and a couple of impact stories. Your donor smiles and shakes her head, yes.

So you make the ask.

Suddenly, the temperature drops 10 degrees, a noticeable change in your donor’s demeanor. She glances at her phone, exclaims over the time and rushes out the door without saying yes, but not saying no either.

You give her a quick hug, and sit back down to finish your coffee, wondering what went wrong. In your mind, you review the steps you’ve taken to cultivate this donor and prepare for the ask.

How you wrote a warm, personal note on the thank-you letter of her and her husband’s third gift this year.

How you took them on of a tour of your facility, showing them the impact of the program for which they both seem to have an affinity. You even invited the chair of your board to join you for this tour, and they discovered they both belonged to the same country club.

How this Power Couple also came to your gala dinner last month, bidding on some high ticket items while seated at a table of other high-end donors.

According to all the training and guides and handbooks on fundraising, you should have had a very willing donor ready to make a substantial gift at your coffee meeting. That’s the science behind fundraising – a series of steps and interactions that ultimately lead to major gifts.

But fundraising is more than a science. A good fundraiser understands the art of fundraising, and knows that sometimes the best ask is no ask.

In this scenario, here’s where a truly savvy fundraiser is going to succeed by recognizing that art.

While it’s true that women tend to be the charitable-giving driver in heterosexual couples, agreement is required from both members of a power couple. In this case, both people needed to be present for a major ask.

Your Power Couple has already made four gifts this year – three smaller donations and one fairly large one at a gala event. Why are you asking again just a month after a major fundraising event? Donors don’t like being treated like ATMs where you consistently make withdrawals.

Your donor started off the meeting talking more about personal topics. The fundraiser would have been smarter to simply follow her donor’s lead and talk about the program the donor asked about, but simply thank the donor for their major gift at the event and talk about how much of an impact it made.

That warm, effusive and genuine gratitude would likely have been carried back to the donor’s spouse in their conversation over dinner or as they were turning in the for the night.

Instead of making an ask, you’ve planted a seed that will grow as the couple continues to be engaged. Perhaps they would have taken your nonprofit’s mission back to their respective businesses as potential recipients of corporate donors.

Perhaps in a few months, you could have invited both of them to dinner with your executive director and made a substantial ask then. With both of them present, after a period of months have passed since their last substantial gift.

That, my friends, is a fundraiser who understands the art of fundraising, one who will be highly successful in using both the art and the science of fundraising.

 

 

 

When Event Fundraising Fails

The COVID-19 Pandemic may have finally finished off event-style fundraising models. Certainly, with the Delta strain surging, we’re all hearing that dreaded death rattle as fundraisers attempt to go back to their familiar standby.

I’ve never been an “event person,” and I most definitely have a bias against events as the primary mode of fundraising. How many golf tournaments, bowl-a-thons, gala parties, or silent (loud?) auctions do we need before recognizing events don’t work.

Sure, people have a lot of fun at parties. Golfers love the chance to play a round on a prestigious course. The artist who “donated” the painting for your silent auction gets a nice charitable gift tax write off when the piece doesn’t sell at the gallery. And your nonprofit just spent a boatload of money and staff hours for a one-time budget boost – assuming your event broke even.

Then, a global pandemic hits and you’re looking at a $50K hole in your fundraising plan. It’s happened far too often in the last couple of years.

Nonprofit gurus have been saying this for years, including Joan Garry. Her post “Why Do So Many Nonprofits Live or Die by Special Events?” outlines exactly why special events are a very poor way to build a successful fundraising plan. They’re expensive, unpredictable and a huge drain on staff time, Garry says.

Finally, they don’t encourage donors to invest in your mission. And that is the crux of why I’ve never been a fan of events as an effective fundraising plan.

I cut my fundraising teeth on the Benevon fundraising model, which is based on building lasting relationships with people who share an affinity for your mission and vision. Sure, the model calls for regular tours and a large-scale annual fundraising breakfast, but these can and should be adapted for virtual tours and small group asks, even one-on-one relationships. It’s not about the menu, the decorations or the swag bags!

It’s all about your mission, the work your nonprofit is doing to achieve its vision and how ordinary people can be an important part of it!

COVID-19 has forced every single nonprofit to re-think event fundraising. Despite the loss of events, nonprofits with a robust variety of fundraising channels with strong, established donor relationships are doing just fine shifting their fundraising plans to these changing times.

Direct mail companies are finding donations growing in average gift size and in new donors. Online giving, including Facebook and Instagram, report growth as campaigns and events go virtual.

If one good thing can come from COVID-19, I hope it encourages nonprofits to scrap large scale events and adopt a more diverse fundraising plan – even when the pandemic is over.

A Well-Traveled Box

“Your couch has more miles than my Buick.”

That was my former father-in-law’s statement in 2013 when he found out his son and my former husband’s career was taking us back to Florida. After spending more than two years in Idaho, we were doing yet another cross country move.

This week, I’m moving again to another condo – this time in Muskegon’s Midtown, just six blocks from where I work.

In the early years of my marriage, we moved nearly every year, but always in Michigan. After our son graduated from high school and headed to college, our moves spanned the nation.

I had hoped to stop that pattern since my divorce, but sadly, life had other plans. Two condos, two apartments, two shared living spaces in seven years – it’s never been my goal to continue my well-rehearsed patterns of packing and saving moving boxes.

One box in particular stands out since I’ve had it ever since 2009. Our movers first packed canning jars and my canning equipment from the basement of our house in DeWitt. I didn’t unpack it in Florida the first time. I didn’t unpack it in Idaho either. It remained packed until 2013, our return trip to Florida.

Finally, in early 2014, when I was leaving Florida, my former husband played Tetris with my shoe collection and managed to fit all of them into this one box. I believe he knew even then, he wanted me gone.

Since then, I’ve used it for every move to pack my many pairs of shoes. You can see the layers and layers of tape across the top, and it’s become my personal guide for when my love of shoes is getting out of hand. If they can’t all fit in the box, I have too many!

Today I packed up all my shoe boxes once again, leaving it open for my house slippers and the extra set of trainers I keep near the door. I’ll tape the box up the night before movers arrive and carry it across town one more time.

But this time, the box is going to the recycle bin when it’s unpacked.

I’m done moving – no matter what the future brings.