I read a post on Donor InSite recommending that writers of fundraising copy hang up photos of their donors, or photos of people from magazines representing their donors, to look at and remember when composing fundraising letters. This is a very good idea.
Writers should do the same thing with photos of or representing clients. It is always helpful to have stories to tell for fundraising copy about the lives changed through the direct generosity of the targeted donors. Looking at photographs of clients can help you remember those stories and to tell them more compellingly, hopefully engendering a more visceral connection between you and them, and between them and the donors through you.
It might also be interesting to see how the photos you select for donors and the ones you pick of clients compare or contrast with each other. Do they look more alike than you expected? That could be another very compelling concept to convey. People give to people, that’s the old fundraising saying. I would add that people give to people they can relate to in some way, and as the fundraising copywriter, it’s up to you to show them what that connection is and make them feel it more strongly than ever before.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Win-win grantwriting process
Yesterday I mentioned the frustration that I as a grantwriter sometimes feel when putting together a proposal, as well as the frustration that program officers must sometimes feel reading through certain proposals. This is why I always write and edit my proposals while putting myself in the shoes of the person who will have to read them.
Just imagine what it must be like to be a program officer. Often I’ve thought it would be a pretty great job, and sometimes I’m sure it is. But the day after a big proposal deadline probably isn’t one of those times. When I’m writing a proposal, I think about the pile of proposals that appear on the program officer’s desk, about the hours he or she will have to spend reading them and then making recommendations for which ones should be funded. I think about eye strain and boredom and the long process of finding each piece of information required by the RFP in every single proposal in that pile. And I try to write my proposal in a way that minimizes all of those annoyances.
Program officers are people too, and don’t want to be bored any more than the rest of us. So I write my proposals to be interesting, with introductions that grab interest and tell a story, and conclusions that clearly state the overall point I’m trying to make. I include statistics if they’re relevant or required, but I also try to put a face on those statistics. I also avoid jargon, which serves only to distance the reader from the issues being discussed. You want the reader of your proposal to feel something, and to feel that if they give to your cause, they’re giving to real people, not numbers or terminology. Not only does this way of writing make it easier for a potential donor to feel compelled to give, it also makes the narrative itself more fun for him or her to read.
Program officers are busy workers just like all of us, especially after a proposal deadline has dropped a ton of extra reading material into their schedules. So I make my proposals concise and to the point as well as easy to read. The print is always in a reasonably sized font, the margins are generous, the sections are brief and well-labeled, and paragraph breaks are frequent and sensible. My philosophy is that if you have to futz around with the margins and fonts in order to make your proposal fit within the funder’s parameters, then you’re trying to include too much and should revisit the content, not the type size. And when you edit your proposal draft, assuming you know that you’ve already included everything that the RFP asked for, you should always be making it shorter, never longer.
Finally, program officers have to answer to other people in their organizations, usually the board of directors who will make the ultimate funding decisions, and they need to be able to easily gather the information they need to make the case for any given proposal that they would like to recommend for funding. So, I follow the order and outline provided in the original RFP religiously so that whoever reads my proposal can quickly fill in a checklist showing that everything the RFP requested is in fact included. That means that if the RFP asks for an evaluation plan before a timeline, I put it in that very order, no matter what order my existing boilerplate or earlier proposals put it in. I answer every single RFP question in the order in which it was asked, even if I would’ve put it in a different sequence if I were the one asking the questions. In fact, if I have the RFP in electronic form, I cut and copy the suggested outline directly into a new document first thing, and then fill in each section based on that template. I use the same terminology as the RFP for each section heading, and when possible, restate the question being asked within the answer that I give.
I find that writing proposals this way, with the point of view of the program officer in mind, benefits me as well. I’d rather write things that are interesting than things that are boring after all, and if I follow the RFP outline exactly I have a built-in checklist and don’t have to worry that I’ve left out requirements. Ultimately, this grantwriting philosophy not only makes the program officer’s life easier, but also makes my job easier. Win-win situation.
Just imagine what it must be like to be a program officer. Often I’ve thought it would be a pretty great job, and sometimes I’m sure it is. But the day after a big proposal deadline probably isn’t one of those times. When I’m writing a proposal, I think about the pile of proposals that appear on the program officer’s desk, about the hours he or she will have to spend reading them and then making recommendations for which ones should be funded. I think about eye strain and boredom and the long process of finding each piece of information required by the RFP in every single proposal in that pile. And I try to write my proposal in a way that minimizes all of those annoyances.
Program officers are people too, and don’t want to be bored any more than the rest of us. So I write my proposals to be interesting, with introductions that grab interest and tell a story, and conclusions that clearly state the overall point I’m trying to make. I include statistics if they’re relevant or required, but I also try to put a face on those statistics. I also avoid jargon, which serves only to distance the reader from the issues being discussed. You want the reader of your proposal to feel something, and to feel that if they give to your cause, they’re giving to real people, not numbers or terminology. Not only does this way of writing make it easier for a potential donor to feel compelled to give, it also makes the narrative itself more fun for him or her to read.
Program officers are busy workers just like all of us, especially after a proposal deadline has dropped a ton of extra reading material into their schedules. So I make my proposals concise and to the point as well as easy to read. The print is always in a reasonably sized font, the margins are generous, the sections are brief and well-labeled, and paragraph breaks are frequent and sensible. My philosophy is that if you have to futz around with the margins and fonts in order to make your proposal fit within the funder’s parameters, then you’re trying to include too much and should revisit the content, not the type size. And when you edit your proposal draft, assuming you know that you’ve already included everything that the RFP asked for, you should always be making it shorter, never longer.
Finally, program officers have to answer to other people in their organizations, usually the board of directors who will make the ultimate funding decisions, and they need to be able to easily gather the information they need to make the case for any given proposal that they would like to recommend for funding. So, I follow the order and outline provided in the original RFP religiously so that whoever reads my proposal can quickly fill in a checklist showing that everything the RFP requested is in fact included. That means that if the RFP asks for an evaluation plan before a timeline, I put it in that very order, no matter what order my existing boilerplate or earlier proposals put it in. I answer every single RFP question in the order in which it was asked, even if I would’ve put it in a different sequence if I were the one asking the questions. In fact, if I have the RFP in electronic form, I cut and copy the suggested outline directly into a new document first thing, and then fill in each section based on that template. I use the same terminology as the RFP for each section heading, and when possible, restate the question being asked within the answer that I give.
I find that writing proposals this way, with the point of view of the program officer in mind, benefits me as well. I’d rather write things that are interesting than things that are boring after all, and if I follow the RFP outline exactly I have a built-in checklist and don’t have to worry that I’ve left out requirements. Ultimately, this grantwriting philosophy not only makes the program officer’s life easier, but also makes my job easier. Win-win situation.
Evaluation Capacity Building
From the years I've spent as a grantwriter, with the addition of my masters degree which required me to learn a variety of research methods in order to write my thesis, I've developed a strong interest in evaluation. Pretty much every major funder requires prospective fundees to lay out their plans for evaluating their programs before they will consider putting any money down. Which makes sense, everyone wants to know that their money will be put to good use, right?
But there's a problem, which is that a lot of nonprofits don't really know how to effectively evaluate their programs, at least not in the depth that funders would like. We know how to count how many people we serve. We know how to gather testimonials from happy clients whose lives have changed. We know how to promise that we'll provide training to a certain number of people, or a certain number of hot meals, or hours of child care, or whatever. But does that really tell anyone how well our programs are working? How do we know that those happy clients wouldn't have changed their lives without our help? How can we tell that those training sessions or hot meals or hours of child care really lead to a greater good, like better education, permanently improved health, reduced youth violence, or whatever other parts of our missions the activities are meant to further?
It seems impossible to tell. And even if there is a way to measure these things, how are we supposed to know how to do it? We're not all trained in research methods, and besides, we're busy providing those training sessions, services, meals, child care, etc. etc.
It's frustrating to be asked to answer such difficult questions without necessarily having the skills or experience to do so. And I think that often, those of us writing the grant proposals don't spend much time or thought on the Evaluation sections, because we don't know what funders are even really looking for there even if we do know how to provide it. That must be frustrating for the funders as well. It doesn't do any of us any good to be frustrated about it, and I suspect it makes us frustrated at each other, which prevents us from working together in the ways that might help our communities more--not to mention make our own lives and jobs easier! So I'm quite pleased to be reading about Evaluation Capacity Building.
This posting on The Innovation Network website goes into more depth about the topic, which they define as, "the intentional work to continuously create and sustain organizational processes that make quality evaluation and its uses routine.”
The posting summarizes a Think Tank meeting on Evaluation Capacity Building which included representatives from several of the major funders who are most concerned with encouraging useful evaluation by nonprofits of their programs.
I think that we should all be considering ways in which we can build effective evaluation into our program plans, not only when we're writing proposals to draw in funds, but all the time. Just as funders are concerned with how well their money is being spent, we as nonprofit professionals should be--and really are--concerned with how much of a difference we are making and how we could do even better. I hope that activities such as the ECB Think Tank are a sign that funders and nonprofits are looking for ways to help each other use evaluation to accomplish even greater societal change.
But there's a problem, which is that a lot of nonprofits don't really know how to effectively evaluate their programs, at least not in the depth that funders would like. We know how to count how many people we serve. We know how to gather testimonials from happy clients whose lives have changed. We know how to promise that we'll provide training to a certain number of people, or a certain number of hot meals, or hours of child care, or whatever. But does that really tell anyone how well our programs are working? How do we know that those happy clients wouldn't have changed their lives without our help? How can we tell that those training sessions or hot meals or hours of child care really lead to a greater good, like better education, permanently improved health, reduced youth violence, or whatever other parts of our missions the activities are meant to further?
It seems impossible to tell. And even if there is a way to measure these things, how are we supposed to know how to do it? We're not all trained in research methods, and besides, we're busy providing those training sessions, services, meals, child care, etc. etc.
It's frustrating to be asked to answer such difficult questions without necessarily having the skills or experience to do so. And I think that often, those of us writing the grant proposals don't spend much time or thought on the Evaluation sections, because we don't know what funders are even really looking for there even if we do know how to provide it. That must be frustrating for the funders as well. It doesn't do any of us any good to be frustrated about it, and I suspect it makes us frustrated at each other, which prevents us from working together in the ways that might help our communities more--not to mention make our own lives and jobs easier! So I'm quite pleased to be reading about Evaluation Capacity Building.
This posting on The Innovation Network website goes into more depth about the topic, which they define as, "the intentional work to continuously create and sustain organizational processes that make quality evaluation and its uses routine.”
The posting summarizes a Think Tank meeting on Evaluation Capacity Building which included representatives from several of the major funders who are most concerned with encouraging useful evaluation by nonprofits of their programs.
I think that we should all be considering ways in which we can build effective evaluation into our program plans, not only when we're writing proposals to draw in funds, but all the time. Just as funders are concerned with how well their money is being spent, we as nonprofit professionals should be--and really are--concerned with how much of a difference we are making and how we could do even better. I hope that activities such as the ECB Think Tank are a sign that funders and nonprofits are looking for ways to help each other use evaluation to accomplish even greater societal change.
Blogging nonprofit inspiration
I only very recently officially launched my consulting business, and I say that my mission is to “provide writing and planning services that express nonprofits’ vision for societal transformation in ways that inspire community support.” So now I’m finally starting up a blog, not just because all the cool kids are doing it (doesn’t everyone have a blog these days? I seem to read a million of them so it seems that way!) or the marketing tips all say that I absolutely must, but as an extension of that mission.
For one thing, I want to provide information gleaned from my own experience on how nonprofits can express their ideas and accomplishments more effectively, to whomever they want to reach: foundations, government funders, employees, the community, clients, anyone. I can help them in-depth in my capacity as a consultant, but they don’t have to hire me to benefit from at least some of what I know, and what I learn from other practitioners in my field.
But there’s a deeper reason too. I talk about inspiring support in my mission statement, but in deciding to launch this blog I thought a lot about inspiration, not just inspiring support in others, but ways in which I inspire myself, or seek out others to inspire me. I go to workshops, network at conferences, and yes, read a million nonprofit-themed blogs and publications, not just for the fun of it but for the interesting things I hear and learn from them, and for the ideas they spark within me as I try to apply what I’ve learned to my work and life. On one level, I want to be a part of that, providing education and inspiration rather than just receiving them. And on another level, I’ve come to realize that it’s easier to build on enriching experiences if I have a way to talk them out.
So here is the place where I can talk about inspirational moments I’ve experienced in my life with nonprofits, share them, spread them, discuss them, and build on them. I’m sure it won’t all be inspiring. Sometimes I need to talk out annoyances or setbacks. But even those negative experiences can become inspiration, if I can express them in a way that turns them around. From vision to expression, that’s my tagline. Not just for nonprofit clients, but for my own inspirations and plans.
For one thing, I want to provide information gleaned from my own experience on how nonprofits can express their ideas and accomplishments more effectively, to whomever they want to reach: foundations, government funders, employees, the community, clients, anyone. I can help them in-depth in my capacity as a consultant, but they don’t have to hire me to benefit from at least some of what I know, and what I learn from other practitioners in my field.
But there’s a deeper reason too. I talk about inspiring support in my mission statement, but in deciding to launch this blog I thought a lot about inspiration, not just inspiring support in others, but ways in which I inspire myself, or seek out others to inspire me. I go to workshops, network at conferences, and yes, read a million nonprofit-themed blogs and publications, not just for the fun of it but for the interesting things I hear and learn from them, and for the ideas they spark within me as I try to apply what I’ve learned to my work and life. On one level, I want to be a part of that, providing education and inspiration rather than just receiving them. And on another level, I’ve come to realize that it’s easier to build on enriching experiences if I have a way to talk them out.
So here is the place where I can talk about inspirational moments I’ve experienced in my life with nonprofits, share them, spread them, discuss them, and build on them. I’m sure it won’t all be inspiring. Sometimes I need to talk out annoyances or setbacks. But even those negative experiences can become inspiration, if I can express them in a way that turns them around. From vision to expression, that’s my tagline. Not just for nonprofit clients, but for my own inspirations and plans.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
