You never know: CFC turns 5!
I’d reached my empathy limit.
After several years of giving my all to my first post-grad school role of crisis counselor—my head-on introduction to which coincided with September 11—I recognized my reserves were running dangerously low.
“Self-care” wasn’t yet a buzzword, but I knew I needed a break from the emotionally taxing job in order to return to my most compassionate nature. A friend recommended I apply for what sounded like the perfect opportunity: a college counselor at a newly launched independent high school. The thing was, she noted, as with most small nonprofits, every employee wore several hats. In this case, the college counselor would devote 50% of their time to…fundraising.
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), the counseling part sounded fantastic. Adolescents and teens were my ideal client demographic, so I figured I’d explore the hybrid position.
Throughout the interview process with Marybeth Kravets (educational consultant extraordinaire) and Michael Rubin (rock star fundraising consultant), I was crushing hard on the school and these would-be supervisors. Pick me, pick me!
My excitement quickly morphed into panic when I heard back from the team: You are a great fit! But due to the budget, we are transitioning the position to 100% fundraising.
They offered me the development job.
Come again?
No! I’m a therapist! I don’t want a development job!
Or do I?
Michael sure thought I did. And he was utterly convincing.
About that break
Early evidence (circa 1986)
of my affinity for writing.
Turns out, my psychology and social work skills have proven to be assets in the philanthropic sector—where close listening and building trust are critical, and our relationships are about so much more than "asking for money." A social work degree is now one of the preferred paths to an intentional career in nonprofit development.
Plus, it allowed me to lean into my first love, writing.
Back in 2004, though, my anxious brain resolved to give it a year.
That one year turned into many; I set off on a development career path at some of Chicago’s most iconic cultural institutions, collaborating with and learning from many wonderful professionals, volunteers, community leaders, members, and philanthropists along the way. Eventually, I landed a coveted position that uniquely married my development knowhow and passion for writing.
You never know: your impact
With Michael Rubin at a 2006 conference.
On a recent sweltering afternoon, two decades after that first interview, I met Michael for a quick iced coffee as he passed through Chicago. Always great to catch up, this visit was particularly fun because it doubled as an introduction to a new consultant on his team. As my colleague and I traded stories about how we came to work with Michael, I was, perhaps naively, surprised to learn that he had ZERO recollection that the job he offered me was not the same one for which I applied. Of course, my own memories of interviews, pro/con lists, and what-am-I-doing-with-my-life self-talks remain crystal clear.
The lesson? (Because there’s always a hindsight lesson.)
YOU NEVER KNOW.
Yes, I accepted the unexpected detour.
The flip side is true, too: Michael didn’t remember the circumstances surrounding the position’s evolution, nor his role in my decision to take the risk.
You never know your influence.
And just like that...
This month, I celebrate 5 years since taking an even weightier risk—leaving the security of salaried work to launch Caren Friedman Communications (CFC), my solo venture to help mission-driven organizations elevate their communications through audience-driven messaging and inspired storytelling.
I saw the need: nonprofits of all sizes across every sector were struggling with donor communications. Whether it was due to a budget without room for a dedicated comms staff member; the writing hat forever tossed about to various non-writers; leadership underestimating the value of effective communications, or the physical impossibility of simultaneously building face-to-face relationships with donors while writing at a desk, critical communications (which make or break donor trust, alumni relationships, and campaign success) were not getting the attention they deserved.
I knew that I could help these organizations by offering services to increase philanthropic engagement through clear, compelling writing and persuasive storytelling. But knowing and doing are not the same, and starting my own thing was scary (I mean, I did have to google "Do I need to register as an LLC?"). Once again, I told myself I'd give it a year. Notably, Michael was one of the first to entrust me as a contract development writer when I launched CFC, and we continue to partner on transformational campaigns.
If not for that 2004 “break” from counseling, would I have been confident enough to pursue writing for a living? I’d like to think so, but it’s a toss up.
And if not for that particular break, would I have become a solopreneur with expertise in nonprofit communications? Absolutely not.
I’m not going to pretend to have it all figured out after five years (if the number of flagged podcasts and tech-related “how to” tabs open on my computer are any indication). Instead, I choose to celebrate this milestone by embracing the opportunity to pay it forward. To be the impetus for others’ hindsight lessons. What a gift to remain in good touch with the donor relations and advancement superstars whom I hired and trained for their first developent jobs. The longer I'm in the field, the more conversations, informational interviews, and training sessions that may inspire someone's next step.
Sometimes we can look back and easily identify a Sliding Doors moment. Other times the influence is more subtle.
You never know your impact.
So do the thing. Initiate the conversation. Return the call. Send the resume. Accept the job. Run from the job. Be kind.
You. Never. Know.
P.S. Thank you to each of my clients for trusting me with your missions and stories. It is an honor and privilege to work together to build a better world. Let’s keep it going.
If you are curious about how I can leverage my understanding of human behavior and philanthropy to shape strategic audience-driven donor communications for your organization, let's chat! Reach out at caren@carenfriedmancomms.com
