While many fritter away valuable hours diving deep into the social media rabbit hole, I’m over here gorging on word games.

I’d reached my empathy limit. And while in no world had I ever anticipated becoming a fundraiser (I carried a gross student loan balance and felt I’d maxed out on asking others for money), a “break” from the intensity of crisis social work was certainly appealing.

Nonprofits are embarrassed by their own communications. Mission-driven organizations are uncomfortable with their story. The very messages intended to be shared widely, live online, and influence supporters and prospects.

Just because your organization isn’t the largest or most recognized doesn’t mean your work isn’t meaningful. And every communication—including your website, direct mail appeal, and campaign case statement--is an opportunity to strengthen (or break) audience trust and engagement.

It should come as no surprise that donors want assurance that organizations know—and are grateful for—who they are as people (not as wallets). Why would a donor continue to support an organization that can’t even get their name right?

While I’ve been consistent with personal self-care through such practices as meditation, cycling, and yoga (how long until I master crow pose, though?), as of late, when it comes to self-care of my business, I give myself an enthusiastic thumbs down.

Early in my nonprofit development career, I was excited to join a regional conference session about fundraising for introverts. Back then, a fundraiser was stereotypically characterized as a schmoozer—a term never once used to describe me. Yet I knew my disposition did indeed lend itself to the development field, one where deep listening and astute appreciation of nuances in human behavior is critical to building relationships.

I joined Peloton in 2017. Back when folks thought the fitness platform was for supermodels (I am not) who live in glass houses (I do not). What has Peloton taught me about donor recognition?

Storytelling is a powerful tool that, when done effectively, engages, evokes emotions, sparks empathy, and connects our past to our present. Forty-something me would not write the same story as 30-something me.

The reality of pandemic life that most of us have been, appropriately and unapologetically, cycling through periods of just not feeling okay. Our fatigue impacts how we relate to and communicate about our work. Consciously or not, you may have grown apathetic towards your projects or simply find yourself stuck.

It is always a delight when a writer seems to be speaking directly to me, as was the case this morning while skimming a blog and being struck that no truer words have ever been uttered: Self-control and babka do not coexist. Though I'd never attempted my own babka--the baking of which is deemed "no casual undertaking" by NYT Cooking. Why does the challenge intimidate me?

I’ve wanted to change my name for as long as I can remember. And today, as the nation reckons with systemic racism after the death of George Floyd and during a global pandemic, the internet has become rife with viral videos and memes calling out white women as “Karen,” now the umbrella term to classify perceived racism, white anger, and entitlement.

Gratitude in the face of crisis is, unfortunately, a timely topic, and so while I typically focus on building a culture of gratitude within our nonprofit organizations, for my first GratiTuesday I wanted to explore the benefits of creating a culture of gratitude in our own lives.

A few days after my father passed away, my mom’s landline (!) rang. On the other end of the line: a perky nonprofit fundraiser who asked for my dad by name.

Assessing where writing responsibilities live—and where they should live—is the first step to building an effective development communications program. Many nonprofits underestimate the impact of their donor communications; but writing for your philanthropic community is not a throwaway position. In fact, words can make or break donor loyalty, alumni relationships, and campaign success.

Though a generic thank you note is adequate for the middle school party circuit, it’s not okay for donor communications. And yet adult versions of this one-size-fits all acknowledgment continue to proliferate our mailboxes—an astonishing amount written by those of us in the business of THANKING DONORS.

Nonprofits are masters at talking about themselves. But donor stewardship and engagment requires us to reframe communications to be donor-centric: knowing who our donor is and embracing them as the hero of our organization’s story. Our language should talk directly to the donor and encourage their motivations for giving.