Spring cleaning

So I’ve been doing a bit of spring cleaning in my office . . . and I can already hear the whoops of laughter from my co-workers as I write this. 

“Spring cleaning?!  Is THAT what you call it?  That stuff’s been in there since the millennium.”

“The entire building feels lighter.” 

“There’s a DESK in there, for gosh sakes!”

Okay, maybe it’s been a while.  But wait, I can explain:  it’s not that I love piles of paper.  My perfect Zen is a world of clean lines and uncluttered space.  It’s just that in my end of this wonderful biz, things don’t often proceed along predictable channels.  The prospective donor from five years ago is still “thinking” about opening that new fund.  The new nonprofit fund requires ongoing hand-holding throughout its endowment campaign.  The current donor remembers a question he meant to ask from that initial meeting -- six years ago.  Didn’t you keep those notes on the luncheon napkin?

The ideas gleaned from a long-ago conference are suddenly newly relevant.  Thank heavens the conference notebook is still on the shelf.  The age-old marketing materials no doubt need archiving, but a long-forgotten phrase may be worth resurrecting for this year’s campaign.

In short, pieces of paper are just so much more:  they are ideas, relationships, plans, history.  Treasures!  You begin to see my problem.

Is this a grand apologia for clutter?  Gee, I hope not.  But as a dear colleague once observed, this isn’t always a simple task-oriented business. You can’t just file your relationships and plans tidily away in the database.

Oh, dear, I’m beginning to miss those stacks of paper I ruthlessly tossed away last week.  Should I raid the recycling bin?  I just know there were unplumbed possibilities in there…

What's for breakfast?

When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"

"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"

"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.

Pooh nodded thoughtfully. "It's the same thing," he said.”

― A.A. Milne

Yesterday was an exciting day.   We had all of our staff in “the house” for an all-team meeting.  We also had a great breakfast and lunch!  Having everyone (with the exception of Lori who was missed!) together for the day is truly energizing.  Coming together provides a time to recharge, communicate, support, generate ideas, encourage, acknowledge and get focused on what is ahead.   Whew -- we did all that!   

Reconfirming our road map provides an opportunity to see where we have traveled and where we want to go next. What I can tell you is that I am so proud of the team we have an NCCF -- each person is passionate about our mission, is focused on excellence and is engaged in our future.  Yesterday provided an opportunity to say thank you, to get focused and plan our trip! 

Exciting indeed.

(Pictured below is Patrick Callahan receiving the first and we hope only SPAM Slayer award at our staff meeting yesterday from Jennifer for all the hard work he did to help us tackle our SPAM problem earlier this spring!

Transitions ... Traditions ... Who’s Got a Clue?

They say change is healthy, and inevitable!  So many transitions are taking place this month, I’m trying to keep my head above water to keep up with them all.

April is full of annual grant-making and scholarship activity here at the North Carolina Community Foundation. The boards that I serve are busy with their grants seasons, and my phone is continually ringing with nonprofits asking about grant opportunities. I enjoy working with the board members to evaluate the grant applications and make decisions on funding. And it’s exciting to see the projects the nonprofits are undertaking that need the boards’ assistance.

Some of these boards are celebrating anniversaries this year, and planning gatherings to honor their many years of grant giving and serving their communities. I applaud their accomplishments and love hearing their stories of past board members, grant recipients and the relationships they’ve built.

And as for scholarships, this month is such an intense season, with scholarship applications due and scholarship awards committee gathering to select the lucky recipients. I love reading the essays in the applications and imagining the lives ahead for these applicants. Am I reading the work of the next governor? The next state attorney general or U.S. Senator? 

The changes going on in my private life can make the grants and scholarship rush seem snail-like by comparison. Maybe it’s because we recently had to put our elderly family cat to sleep and the house has become way too quiet, so my husband and I are talking about adopting another cat soon to fill that emotional emptiness.  That change will be huge, I know, but I look forward to picking out a new pet to love. But the transition of mourning one pet while looking forward to a new one feels odd.

Or maybe it’s because I have a college senior at my house, who’s set to graduate next month (the commencement speaker is a former first lady – how’s that for mixing progress and nostalgia?) and who called me recently to tell me in a rush of excitement that he had just picked up his cap and gown.  After hanging up I had to sit still for a minute and remember that heady feeling that four years of work was about to end with a name announced and short walk across a stage. I want to tell him, “Stop! Slow down! You’ll want to remember these last few weeks before everything changes for you!” But, like most  sons, he ignores those claw marks on his ankles made by his sentimental mother.

Another change is that my brothers and I have been working on weekends to get our 40-year-old family beach house ready for sale. We’ve been doing a lot of repair jobs and cleaning out so that the house looks the best it can once it goes on the market. Recently the three of us met for a hard weekend of work, with no spouses or children, just the three siblings with tool boxes and old t-shirts. I tried hard not to slip into my bossy big-sister voice while we worked in various parts of the house. We were doing well with getting our work done, until we came to the linen closet. That’s the place where my father put various household odds and ends and my mother stored the linens, but also where she had stashed small bags of shells the grandchildren had collected on their many walks on the beach with her. I carefully stored those plastic bags to take back home and show my boys – a part of their history. The linen closet is also where she kept the old board games that we all used to play after supper. My brothers and I looked at each other as we pulled out Clue, Monopoly, Scrabble and the other classics we were raised on. None of us could bear to throw them out, so we divided them up as we would have the family silver – and we’ll treat them as such.

I have plenty of time to think about these milestones as I work outside in my gardens, happy that Easter has come and gone, that pollen season is finally waning, that my perennials are returning and that the changes in my yard are reflecting the changes taking place at work and at home.

Remembering where you came from

Last week when the National Archives released the 1940 census, I couldn’t wait to search for a record of my great-grandparents.   Although I have only vague memories of them from my childhood, I grew up hearing inspiring stories about their lives.

Many of the facts on the census only confirmed what I already knew.  In 1940, census records indicate that Herman and Mabel Matthews lived on a working farm (as did half of North Carolina’s total population in those days), which was located just outside of Carthage in Moore County.  At the time of the census, he was thirty-one and she was twenty-eight.  They had four children ranging from age one to twelve.  Herman farmed tobacco and helped his father run Matthews Market, the local general store.

Sandi at three with Great-Grandma Mabel in the dark blue dress.

Herman and Mabel met at a community barn raising as teenagers and married shortly thereafter.  In 1927 or so, Herman built their house with his own two hands, proudly chiseling the letter “M” for Matthews on the chimney.   They lived there the rest of their lives.   As a young couple, Herman and Mabel were just starting their family during the Great Depression, a time in which farmers across North Carolina were in dire straits.  The price of tobacco and cotton plummeted, and farmers were only making a few cents on the dollar of each pound produced and sold at auction.  In those days, these were the area’s cash crops on which most families’ livelihoods depended.   Years of land cultivation for tobacco and cotton meant the nutrients in the soil were significantly depleted, making vegetable gardening a challenge.  Families struggled just to put food on the table, and many suffered from malnutrition and illness.  

The common theme of all the stories I heard growing up was how the Matthews  were able to overcome all sorts of trials and tribulations, not just through steadfast faith, resolve, hard work, and frugality, but also and especially through their ties in the community.  Modern sociologists have a fancy term for this: “social capital.” I think my great-grandparents simply thought of it as being good neighbors.

The word “philanthropist” wasn’t in my great-grandparents’ vocabulary, but they cared about making their community a better place and were very generous with their time and money.  Herman helped build Farm Life School so that young people in the community didn't have to walk or ride more than a couple miles to school.  He also helped build Yates Thagard Church and later served as a deacon.  Mabel was the epitome of a traditional Southern lady -- a tireless mother, an excellent cook and a Sunday school teacher at church.  She was a lady who showed up at your house with a casserole when you were sick with the flu. 

Herman was, by all accounts, the pillar of the community, helping his aging father run the general store, attending to the farm, and raising his three sons and daughter.  According to the stories I heard growing up,  Matthews Market was the neighborhood watering hole, a place where you could purchase a cup of coffee, a pound of sugar, or even a new pair of shoe laces with nothing more than a handshake and a promise to pay after harvest.   Some patrons failed to make good on their promise to pay, but the Matthews’ policy was to “pay what you can, when you can.”

As I contemplated the extraordinary lives of my great-grandparents, I began thinking about how the community has changed since their time.  While North Carolina’s urban areas are growing at unprecedented rates, rural communities have been left in the dust.  Many are struggling.  Rapid changes in business and industry, coupled with the loss of manufacturing and farm jobs, means that North Carolina’s rural citizens face higher unemployment rates than the rest of the state.  They also face higher rates of poverty and limited access to healthcare. 

As younger generations are moving to high-growth urban areas in pursuit of higher education, jobs, and opportunity, they are leaving behind a population that is low income, aging and in need of basic services.   In fact, I don’t think my great-grandparents would even recognize their community if they were alive today.  The culture of the place has changed. 

I was reminded of a book I read a couple years ago, Harvard professor Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community.   In Bowling Alone, Putnam charts the decline of social capital with a decline in community and civic engagement.  Putnam claims that our shifting, ever-changing population (one in five people will move in any given year), as well as technological advances such as internet and television (the average American watches 10 hours a week), creates communities in which people are solitary and isolated, less empathetic toward their fellow citizens, and are thus less engaged in civic life and community building efforts.  

The good news is Putnam offers a solution to revitalizing communities and connectivity with numerous case studies and strategies to improving social capital.  Putnam earned his PhD from Yale and has devoted his career to studying social capital, but I think his solutions would have been thought of as just plain common sense to my great-grandparents!

It starts with improving connectivity and getting people engaged in community and civic life.  This is an important part of our mission at the NCCF.   Community foundations offer a vast wealth of resources that can be part of the solution.  With its 1,000+ volunteers across the state and its affiliate leadership, NCCF’s affiliates are bringing together individuals, people in the businesses community, educators, and local leaders to tackle community issues such as social activism, poverty, access to healthcare, and education.  But this is just a drop in the bucket of what can be done. 

Each and every one of us should and must have a role in strengthening communities.   And helping doesn’t necessarily mean joining a nonprofit board or giving thousands of dollars.  Bake a casserole to take to a neighbor.  Volunteer to build a playground.  Attend a town hall meeting.  Vote.   Fight to keep essential local services in the downtown area --post office, police station, school, etc.  Support local businesses.  Organize a neighborhood potluck.

 In essence, be a good neighbor.

When I moved off the farm and came to Raleigh to attend college, I was cautioned not to forget where I came from.   I suppose I didn’t give it much thought at the time, but now I realize that this was very important advice I should take to heart.  We can each play a role in making North Carolina a better place for all of its citizens, rural and urban. Let’s not forget the legacy of our ancestors, the rural tradition of generosity, of neighbors helping neighbors to get through hard times.  Together we can make a difference. 

That was no BORED meeting!

Last Thursday we had our statewide NCCF Board of Directors meeting.  Preparing for these board and accompanying committee meetings always takes time and can be a bit anxiety-producing -- but the results are always so worth it.   Meeting with our board members always energizes us, and last week was no exception.

I was rushing my daughter off to school that morning, and think I was a teeny bit stressed as I said: “Hurry up!  I have a board meeting today!”  Lindsay then launched a series of questions about “what do you even do at a board meeting?” and if it was a “bored” meeting?  I floundered a bit, searching for the right words to express the importance and value of board meetings.  After all, our board is critical to our work. I assured her that our meetings are never boring, due to our directors’ full participation, lots of questions and lively discussion.

So what makes it such a strong group?   Our board takes their job very seriously and members are certainly familiar with all the areas of responsibility that go along with being on a nonprofit board. But I think it is what each one of them brings to the board personally that really makes the difference.

Recently I saw a list from BoardSource that outlines the responsibilities of nonprofit board members. But what I liked about their list is that they included some personal characteristics that are important:

Ability to listen, analyze, think clearly and creatively, work well with people individually and in a group.

The list also noted that it’s important to possess honesty, sensitivity to and tolerance of differing views; to be responsive; of course have personal integrity -- and a sense of humor never hurts anybody in nearly any situation!

One portion of our board meeting is set aside each quarter to allow different board member to share how they became involved with NCCF and why they stay involved.  It is always such a great way to gain a window into what motivates and drives people.  One of our board members shared the story of his involvement, and told us that although his father never talked directly to his children about his philanthropic efforts while growing up, “I learned the value of giving through watching him, his actions showed me how I could be philanthropic. He inspired me.”

What a lovely way to share this lesson.  I often talk about family members who inspired me to give back, and sometimes how these may be ones that you’d least expect, so this resonated so much with me.

Who inspired you to become philanthropic?  Where did you learn the value of giving back? I would love to hear from you, so please post a comment here on my blog, or send me an email.

Timing is everything . . .

And so the expression goes.   Last year at this time we began to focus on the community leadership dimension with our statewide network of affiliate foundations.  The timing was right -- many of them are celebrating milestone anniversaries and are doing what we do on such memorable occasions – reflecting on their histories.  They have inspired philanthropy in their communities, raising funds for charitable purposes and supporting nonprofits through their grantmaking.

The timing was also right for NCCF to be part of a national cutting-edge movement shared with other community foundations to focus on the community leadership role we can play.

This past year I’ve had the pleasure of travelling across the state with my regional staff, meeting with many of our 60 affiliates.  I’ve come away from each meeting more and more excited about their leadership in marshaling local resources to meet pressing community needs.

Just last week, my staff and I met to reflect on last year’s work and begin our planning for the year ahead.  We talked about our local foundations’ roles to address local needs as Catalysts, Conveners and Connectors in their respective communities.  What do these three C’s mean?  Here are just a few examples of what some of our affiliates are already doing:

Granville County Community Foundation is acting as a catalyst and convener to bring together elected officials, clergy, community college and business leaders to encourage employers to hire individuals who have been chronically unemployed. 

The Jones County Community Foundation, in collaboration with the N.C. Rural Economic Development Center, has convened community meetings to raise awareness about the migration of young people from the county, working on a possible solution by raising funds to create an endowment to support an entrepreneurship program at the high school. 

Last year, when many of our communities were affected by the tornadoes and Hurricane Irene, several of our local foundations met with local officials and other groups to learn first-hand about the impact.  With support from our statewide NCCF Disaster Relief Fund, they made grants to nonprofits that provided services to victims.

Fast forwarding … I’m not exactly sure what I will be writing about next, but I know the timing will be right to share even more about the three C’s -- and what leadership roles our affiliates are taking to make a difference in communities throughout the state!

Don't "mind" the dog...he's with me

I heard something yesterday that I could not get out of my mind.   While attending a Rotary Club meeting in downtown New Bern, one of the members shared information about important events occurring on that date in history.  He told us that on this day, March 13, 1942, the Quartermaster Corps (QMC) of the United States Army began training dogs for the then newly established War Dog Program, or "K-9 Corps.”

Well over a million dogs served on both sides during World War I, carrying messages along the complex network of trenches and providing some measure of psychological comfort to the soldiers.  He also told us a little about these dogs that worked in mine detection.

Well, I thought he said MIND detection dogs. Truly.  And, I was so intrigued with this idea that it occupied my mind for much of my drive back to Raleigh.  Hmmm . . . mind detection dogs.  I thought it would be a great technique for us to employ at the Foundation! 

I could picture the possibilities of meeting with a donor, accompanied by my dog (let’s just call him Fred), which could later tell me what the donor was really thinking while we met.  Imagine the ramifications!  I could gain helpful feedback about our work, I could get some information about how to fine tune our message to prospective donors, and I could really understand what makes people tick! 

Well, since I have discovered that there really are not mind detection dogs, we are going to just rely on you to keep providing us with feedback.  We are here to listen, to learn from you and we want to ensure you are getting the information you need from us.  Throughout the next couple of months we will be reaching out with some online and phone surveys to gather additional information, and I hope you will let us know what you think or hope that we can improve. 

Or I could just bring Fred to my next meeting!

If I had $20,000 . . .

Last August, after several meetings, many lively discussions and amid much laughter and cheers, 19 women in Wilmington launched the Women’s Impact Network of New Hanover County with the mission of maximizing women’s leadership in philanthropy and strengthening the local community through collective giving. 

By pooling their resources into a common grant fund, the Network, which now has 40 members, will distribute $20,000 this summer to a local nonprofit through a competitive grant process.

These women cover the spectrum in terms of age, professions, experience and interests and recognize the power of collective giving.  However, they also realize that they now have a collective responsibility to be good stewards of their grant fund.

WIN member Laurie Taylor, who also serves on the New Hanover County Community Foundation board, put it very succinctly.  “It is easy to give away money,” she said.  “It is really hard to give it away well.”

Network members will now get to personally experience the joys and challenges of informed grantmaking.  Last month they invited more than 60 local nonprofits to apply for a grant, and they now have 31 proposals to consider.

After a nonprofit evaluation training session, WIN grant committee members will review all the proposals and select five finalists.  Those nonprofit organizations will then submit full grant applications, and each Network member gets one vote to select the final grant recipient.

“Instead of just writing a check, we have the opportunity to learn how to make good choices and see the impact our money has in our community,” said WIN member Dana Jaunzemis. 

So, if you had $20,000, how would you give it away?

An information-age conference for the ages

Thank you to the Knight Foundation for the priceless experience of attending your annual Media Learning Seminar.

I am thankful because Knight generously holds this annual conference for free (attendees pay for travel expenses to their headquarters town of Miami). No, not hazard duty in February, but somebody’s got to go! It’s priceless because of the exposure to best practices and thought leadership and for the hundreds of ideas churning in my head.

How can I distill the experience of drinking from a fire hydrant?

I am going through my notes and looking in the margins at all of the stars, exclamation points and arrows: to “JTW” (our CEO and my boss); to “Patrick” (NCCF IT Manager); “Sally” (Community Leadership Director) and “Affiliates” (our network of 60 foundation partners throughout the state and the regional associates who help to lead them).

That group’s potential reach is not just a cast of thousands. Is there anyone who isn’t touched by the need for information?

It’s what drives Knight: information as it relates to freedom and communities and democracy. If that’s not a mission that will set your hair on fire, I can’t think of one that would.

Information and our sector’s access to information is what set us in the community foundation world apart from commercial funds and others who share our philanthropic space. What differentiates us is our sense of place and knowledge of community and its corresponding needs and opportunities.

That knowledge comes with a big responsibility -- to share and use that information and knowledge for the common good. This Knight conference was all about inspiring us to think about this responsibility in new ways, while continuing to use the old strategies that work.

As a former print journalist cum PR/marketing guru, I was fascinated by all the new people spinning new concepts and dropping new terms:

Phone journalism: not just a way to reach younger generations but also those often classified as “disenfranchised.” Even those who can’t afford computers and monthly internet hook-up usually own at least a mid-level “smart” phone that allows connection, instantly. Twitter uprisings don’t even need to be defined anymore.

Ironically, however, it’s easier to get news from your phone about what’s happening in Syria than it is to find out what’s going on in your local community, spawning another new concept:

Media 3.0: it’s about access, not distribution. With the local newspaper undergoing a metamorphosis, redefining itself in the digital age and a bad economy, community foundations in many locations throughout the country are stepping up and partnering with other institutions (libraries, universities, places of worship, formalized groups of displaced reporters -- the list goes on) to help make local information accessible.

While a Knight event is of course heavy on “new” – technologies, social media, digital concepts, it was so refreshing to hear many speakers get up and talk about the “old.”

The head of MIT’s Civic Media program reminded us not to forget about the importance of  paper. If your audience doesn’t have access to a computer or a smart phone or a local library (also sadly closing in droves in this economy), finding out where and how they access info is tantamount to your message delivery.

One research project discovered that the residents of an underserved neighborhood got most of their info at the grocery store. Placing paper news inserts into grocery bags provided access to information that residents needed and weren’t getting.

“Youth journalism” is a trend that allows local partnerships with a generation keen to produce content and tell their stories. Ironically, research shows that young people nationwide like to see their articles, poems and artwork in print. Maybe growing up as digital natives makes digital distribution passé on some levels.

Does that make everything old new again? It certainly keeps some old concepts relevant:

While those of us utilizing social media outlets constantly analyze who we are hearing from, is the more pointed question: Who aren’t we hearing from?

And we really need to stop aggregating all social media as though it were one outlet. Facebook demographics are aging and female. LinkedIn is mostly male. Twitter is one-quarter African American, with a high percentage of educated Hispanic female. Pinterest is largely female in the U.S., but interestingly enough, not in the U.K.

While social media outlets have certainly proven invaluable in the communications toolbox, they are just that – a set of tools, a few channels out of many, that we need to continually employ to tell our story -- and more importantly, to open up the conversation.

The days of top-down communication are over. Information exchange, creating spaces for dialogues and truly engaging with communities on their needs and their futures are keys to our value as community foundations.

That really boils it all down to the most useful, civil and oldest of communications concepts: listening.

From Darwin to dial-up and digital natives

I was really pumped to attend the annual Institute for Emerging Issues at NC State last week. Honestly I am still processing some of the things I heard. There was so much to get excited about!  

NCCF board leaders James Narron, Stuart Dorsett and Kel Landis were there too, part of a standing-room-only audience of more than 1,200.  We heard challenging and thought-provoking speakers who also engaged us in a dialogue about engaging up-and-coming Generation Z.  

Generation Z includes today’s 9 to 21 year-olds. In the year 2022 these young people will be 18 to 30 year-olds and the emerging core of our state’s workforce. That is if we are lucky enough to keep them in North Carolina. This is not a done deal in some of our rural counties, where a mass exodus of young talent is an ongoing challenge.

This generation works and thinks differently than past generations.  This is the most ethnically diverse and tech-savvy group in our state’s history.  Their hopes and dreams are different too.  I live with this generation, so I get it. I still want to tell the story of when I got my first computer (after college!) or the party-line we had when I was growing up -- but I do get it.

So what does this mean for NCCF -- a community foundation that plans to be around in perpetuity?  This is what Bob Safian, editor and managing director of Fast Company said: “More than 150 years ago, Charles Darwin foreshadowed this era in his description of natural selection: It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is most adaptable to change." 

Foundations are often accused of not changing or not changing fast enough. I beg to differ. We embrace change here -- and take risks -- and challenge the status quo.  We value employees who ask questions and have good ideas. We like to get feedback -- good and not-so-good -- from our donors and fund-holders.

We also value and rely on the vision of our founders and volunteer leaders, on our statewide board and throughout our affiliate network.  We value our deep, rich history and our strong foundation -- and want to make sure we are not changing only for the sake of change.  It is a balance.  Our chairman, James Narron, has convened a working group to look at some new ideas and to reflect on which ones will help us improve, while keeping the very best of who we are.

We are ready for Gen Z.  We want them to stay and share their talents with us all. We want them to work at NCCF, establish funds with us and put their own stamp on the power of philanthropy in North Carolina.