Are nonprofits missing out on what the gift can teach them?
In the third chapter of Lewis Hyde’s The Gift, readers are given an opportunity to contemplate what it means to be grateful, to ponder what we mean when we talk about a transformational gift, and to grasp the fact that not all gifts come with the ease of being “once and done.” Hyde describes the “labor of gratitude” as a spiritual journey of sorts that accompanies what he refers to as “gifts of passage.” Hyde explains that these gifts afford a learning experience that can’t be taught in the classroom and an obligation that, if overlooked or ignored, can change the meaning of what was given.1 In other words, a gift doesn’t just arrive—it initiates something. It demands something of us, not in the sense of repayment, but in the form of attention, reflection, and a willingness to grow.
The learning opportunities that accompany some gifts are what I believe many of my fundraising colleagues are missing out on during their careers. After getting themselves stuck in “sales mode,”2 confusing the nature of their relationships, and seeing the donor as merely a consumer, it’s no wonder so many miss out on what their experiences have the potential to teach them. When their goals aren’t met, rather than examining what is actually happening, it’s easier to just assume that their donors have found a new place to shop. They never ask the deeper question: What if the gift is trying to teach us something we’re not prepared to hear?
To be fair, I get it, it’s much easier to relate to our donors as if they are buying shit at Walmart rather than to recognize that what we’re actually doing is navigating relationships in “gift mode.”3 Who isn’t more comfortable with a shallow relationship centered on a commodity? Rather than experience a different story, relate to one another in an entirely new way, and ultimately change how we think about our money and possessions, why not stick with what’s familiar? We’re unmoved by the possibility that a gift can teach us something that a commodity can’t. We want the upside—retention, revenue, results—without having to engage with the emotional and relational depth that true giving requires. That’s the dangerous appeal of marketplace logic: it offers simplicity, but at the cost of meaning.
Hyde likens the way that we can miss what a gift has to teach us to the way “two-steppers” miss out on all that Alcoholics Anonymous has to offer them. Instead of committing themselves to all twelve steps, these individuals take the first step and then immediately jump to step twelve, avoiding the difficult learning process that plays out in the middle. The two-stepper enjoys being a part of the community and eagerly wants to share what they have discovered with others; however, they are not committed enough to the program to allow it to affect them in a transformational way. The two-stepper wants the pleasure of giving to others something they haven’t received themselves. They want the legitimacy of transformation without undergoing the labor of transformation.
Similarly, I believe many of my colleagues are guilty of not allowing the gift to affect them in the most meaningful ways and, therefore, missing out on valuable learning opportunities during their adventures in the land of contemporary fundraising. Whether of their own accord or that of their boards and bosses, or because some supposedly enlightened wizard encourages them to do so, they are effectively two-stepping the process. Instead of learning how to cultivate and sustain genuine relationships in a different context, they spend their entire career conflating their relationships with those they’re more comfortable and familiar with in the marketplace. And in doing so, they sacrifice depth for efficiency, curiosity for conversion, and long-term formation for short-term performance.
Author Charles Booker explains that there are many examples in literature where the protagonist has difficulty learning an especially important lesson. These stories always leave us wondering whether the protagonist will miss out on what their experiences are trying to teach them or if they will endure the unfamiliar long enough to gain perspective of that which they previously couldn’t understand. Booker writes, “At first the strangeness of this new world, with its freaks and marvels, may seem diverting, even exhilarating, if also highly perplexing. But gradually a shadow intrudes. The hero or heroine feels increasingly threatened, even trapped: until eventually (usually by way of a 'thrilling escape') they are released from the abnormal world, and can return to the safety of the familiar world where they began.”4 The question that lingers is whether the journey left any imprint—whether the protagonist brings something new back with them or merely resumes the life they left behind.
These “voyage and return” stories are not about great accomplishments that beef up our resumes; they are adventures of self-discovery - opportunities for making sense of ourselves, others, and the worlds which we inhabit together. What the protagonist often misses out on is not only an understanding of the unfamiliar place in which they find themselves, but also the chance to uncover the deeper meanings hidden in the familiar world from which they came. That is perhaps the greatest loss: the opportunity to return changed, with new eyes for the old world. While we’re not going to find many examples of two-stepping, (taking short-cuts doesn’t usually make for great storytelling), Booker explains that these stories always fall into two distinct categories: those in which the protagonist is affected and changed by what they experience and those in which they do not. And in that distinction lies the challenge for fundraisers: Will we be transformed by our encounters with the gift—or will we merely pass through them, unchanged, arms folded, missing the meaning we were meant to carry home?
If your organization wants to understand how to raise extraordinary levels of support by way of meaningful relationships and higher expectations, our team at Responsive would welcome the opportunity to help you do that. If you’re interested in learning more, email me and/or our managing partner, Michael Dixon. We will be happy to volunteer an hour to get to know you and to explore with you what a partnership with our team might look like.
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We would welcome the opportunity to host the Responsive Fundraising Roadshow in your community. Since 2014, our team has been organizing high-quality, one-day roadshows in partnership with nonprofit leaders who want to showcase their space and champion thought-provoking and highly-interactive fundraising training for their nonprofit community.
Our hosts have included the Children’s Defense Fund in DC, the Henry Ford Health Center in Detroit, Cause Leadership in Toronto, Mission Capital in Austin, North Texas Food Bank in Dallas and The Gateway School in New York City. Most recently, in partnership with the Nonprofit Association of the Midlands, we hosted our most successful roadshow to date in Omaha. If you’d like to explore the idea of hosting the Responsive Fundraising Roadshow, email us today.
Hyde, W. (2019). The Gift: How the Creative Spirit Transforms the World. United States: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group.
Davis, N. Z. (2000). The Gift in Sixteenth-century France. United Kingdom: Oxford University Press.
Ibid.
Booker, C. (2005). The Seven Basic Plots: Why We Tell Stories. United Kingdom: Bloomsbury Publishing.