When Gary Sim calls, people naturally reach for their checkbooks. As president
of a hospital fund-raising board, Sim's job is to convince people of
the benefits of donating to his cause.
"We have a solid case statement -- what's great about our organization
and why people should support us," Sim says. "In our hospital, we focus on
community.
"It's the best community hospital in the country, with the busiest
emergency department. We also deliver the most babies and we're a regional
pediatric center. People are naturally attracted to these issues."
With this in mind, Sim creates a solid platform and begins his search for
potential donors. "I do a lot of research," he says. "For example, there may
be a doctor in our hospital who needs an expensive piece of equipment for
laser surgery. The doctor will know people [and] patients willing to help.
"She'll call them and we will arrange a three-way meeting. The doctor
never fund-raises. She'll just explain why the equipment is needed and
turn it over to me. I'll then say, 'I'm looking for a donation
of $100,000.' This takes a lot of homework."
Along with being the hospital's fund-raiser, Sim is also a trustee
of the donated funds. "Of every dollar donated, only 20 percent is spent on
expense," he says. "I make sure the money is spent where we said it was going
to be spent. This is extremely important. Donors could ask for their money
back otherwise. I'm held accountable."
Sim recommends a post-secondary degree and thinks the fund-raising courses
are useful. "But more important than school," he says, "is to have a good
head on your shoulders. It's a great commitment to social causes. It's
not just another job. You have to have some 'touchy-feely' qualifications."
Another way Sim fund-raises is through special events. He may coordinate
a gala, golf tournament or symphony event. "But you have to define who you're
trying to reach," he says.
"If it's hospital staff and family members, we may only charge $50
a ticket. If we want to invite major donors, we'll charge $500. The donors
don't begrudge the money. They want to attend and feel involved in the
hospital. It's easier to make the money this way than by just asking
for it."
Linda Wright spends most of her time arranging these kinds of galas and
planning special events. As the sole fund-raiser for a small dance company,
she's part fund-raiser, part negotiator. "We'll arrange to have
talent come," she explains.
"I'll get a committee together full of 'movers and shakers'
from the city, and then start organizing. I'll try to get [the talent]
flown [here] for free through the airlines. Then I'll negotiate with
the hotels. It just goes on and on."
Wright spends a lot of her time on the Internet researching companies.
"I'll try to link them and their interests with what we can offer," she
says.
"I find it a great challenge doing what I do," she adds. "I love working
with the different people I meet, and I get to see a tangible measure of how
I'm doing."
Wright suggests budding fund-raisers join the larger organizations like
the Red Cross or the cancer society before working for smaller ones. "You'll
gain a lot of maturity and develop some polish," she says.
"There are so many nonprofit organizations looking for money now," says
Sim. "Corporations are inundated with requests. And the size of donations
is getting smaller. It's actually the individual donations that are the
greatest sources now."
He adds, "It's so rewarding. I meet a lot of people, extremely generous
people. They're generous with their money but also with their time and
kindness. Money is renewable; time isn't."
Sim says successful fund-raisers should have no qualms asking anyone for
anything. "If you're an introvert, this career is not for you. You have
to feel comfortable asking for money. I often find it's easier to ask
someone for a $10,000 donation or to put the hospital in a will than to borrow
$20 from a friend. It's easier to ask, 'Why won't you support
my cause?' than, 'Why don't you support me?'"
Nolan Finn, senior vice-president of resource development for the United
Way in Sacramento, spends a lot of time driving to the offices
of potential fund-raising volunteer executives. Essentially, he manages a
group of CEOs in his area to further recruit donations from the community.
Finn likes to call his time in the car his "windshield time. I'm preparing
while I drive," he says. "I'll drive 80 miles to recruit another CEO
volunteer."
Finn was the director of volunteers at a university when United Way asked
him to join them. "No one ever told me about the nonprofit sector," he says.
"If you're seeking a job and corporate America doesn't fit right,
you should look to health and human services and nonprofit."
Finn says 10 years ago the United Way was practically the only way to give.
"Now people want to know results. It's difficult because we deal with
intangibles. You can't easily show how people's lives have changed.
You can't give a number of how many women aren't on welfare because
of us.
"What I love is knowing that what we're doing is making a change in
the community," he says. "We don't have 50 or 100 clients, we have thousands
of people who are counting on us. The mission [of the nonprofit] is the passion.
You've got to work for something you believe in."