November 2010 will mark my second year as a grantmaker. It’s been a whirlwind of new information, new people, and new ways of working in the nonprofit sector, for which I am extremely appreciative. In response to CEP’s recent study of best practices among highly rated program officers, I’d like to share some of the things I’ve learned in my first two years.
1. Power dynamics are real.
The stories I heard before taking this job are true. People are often happy to hear from me. My phone calls and emails are returned promptly. I’ve had conversations with grantees and said, “These are just ideas,” and received proposals with verbatim transcriptions of my thoughts. It happens. These power dynamics are inherent in the relationship between nonprofit organizations (grantees or not) and grantmakers. I do try to mitigate them as much as possible, first and foremost by acknowledging them openly. I know it’s touchy-feely of me to say, but I think it’s important to remember that we’re human.We have families and histories and interests outside of our jobs. Getting to know the staff members at grantee organizations as people has been really helpful in breaking down the power barrier and also quite rewarding, as the arts world is filled with fun and interesting folks. It also lays the groundwork for building trust and mutual respect, which are important antecedents to my next point.
2. Meet grantees where they are.
Candor, on the part of both the grantmaker and the grantee, is vital to strategic grantmaking. In order to create this relationship, I start by doing my homework and getting first-hand exposure to a grantee’s activities. I familiarize myself with their artistic work by going to see performances and sitting in on classes and rehearsals. I learn about the communities they serve and try to get to know the neighborhoods in which they operate. I want to be fluent in my grantees’ work and deepen my understanding as much as possible. That way, when we sit down to talk about strategic challenges, new opportunities, declining revenue streams, or the latest artistic success, I have a strong base of knowledge with which to enter that conversation. Also, I read whatever recent grants documents we have on hand – yes, all of them. To the extent possible, I want to speak my grantees’ language and meet them on their turf. I think it helps grantees trust that I too am invested in the work they do.
3. Listen more. Talk less.
In conversation with grantees, I like to exhibit a discerning openness. I’ve found that the ability to ask thought-provoking, open-ended questions is a useful skill. Open-ended questions often serve me better than pointed ones because they have a way of revealing where the leaders of organizations are in their thinking. There are, of course, exceptions to this approach, and there is always a time and place to probe deeply on critical issues or to offer ideas or suggestions. However, I’ve learned more and made more progress talking through tough problems with grantees when I’ve been able to follow their train of thought rather than try to steer it. There’s a lot of value in letting organizations find their own answers, even when I think I might have an idea for a solution. Once things are on the table, we can scrutinize together.
4. The 30,000-ft. view can be useful.
Many nonprofit leaders are very much in the weeds of running their organizations, supporting their communities, and dealing with the myriad demands on their time. I’ve found that sharing what I’ve learned from speaking with other grantmakers and organizations or directly connecting grantees can have real value for the organizations with which I work. I recognize that, as a grantmaker, I have access to people and conversations that my grantees do not. It’s nice to be able to be a resource.
In reference to my last post, I think the common thread running through all of these lessons is the fact that giving organizations multi-year, general operating support grants of significant size makes grantee interactions easier. General operating support is as much an affirmation of my trust in an organization and its leadership as it is a reflection of strategic alignment.
Before I bid my time as guest blogger “adieu,” I want to re-orient a bit. I sometimes worry that with all of this left-brained thinking and emphasis on effectiveness, I may forget about why I’m here on this planet and why I do this philanthropic work. I passionately believe in the transformative power of the arts in the lives of individuals, communities, and for our world. I want to leave you with a quote by one of my favorite poets, Audre Lorde. She once said:
For women, then, poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives.
If I may be so bold as to expand this amazingly powerful statement, I believe that all creative expression functions in this positive way and for everyone – not as a luxury, but as a “vital necessity of our existence.” I encourage all of us to remember this truth and to realize it every day.
Ron Ragin is an associate program officer in the Performing Arts Program at Hewlett Foundation. The views expressed are his own.
