When is enough, enough?

Not long ago, my husband sent me an email, where he shared this:   Kurt Vonnegut once told a story about his friend Joseph Heller. They were at a party thrown by a billionaire. Vonnegut pointed out that their host had made more money in a single day than Heller had earned from his wildly successful novel Catch-22 over its entire history. Heller responded, "Yes, but I have something he will never have: enough."

I love this story.  It truly speaks to me. I have enough stuff and actually don’t want more.   I am a person where if something is good, it is enough.

Over the years, I’ve encountered donors for whom nothing is ever enough.  No matter what you give them, no matter the kind of recognition, the perks….it is never enough.

These are the people I truly disliked working with.  Or rather working for, because that is how they viewed our relationship.  Like the donor who, wherever we were—at an event, her house, a restaurant—would snap her fingers (literally!) and instruct (never ask) me to do something such as get her a drink, take her dirty dish, do something for her.

She and her husband were very large donors to our organization.  That meant my bosses wanted (required?) me to make nice.

But it bothered me.  Supporting an organization so it can meet its mission is supposed to be joyful.  As the fundraiser, you are supposed to feel that you are actually giving a gift to the donor, helping them to make a gift that is as meaningful to them as it is to your organization. I could not feel that way about those people.

I did my job, however, and they make several large gifts to my organization, but it wasn’t the uplifting experience I had always found fundraising to be.

Fortunately, most donors are not like that—most truly want to accomplish good things and they show generosity of spirit as well as being financially generous.

Of course, it is not only larger donors who are wonderful to work with—and sometimes something other than wonderful.

I’ve worked with donors who have given very small gifts who still make large demands.  It never ceases to amaze me what some small percent of people think they are owed because of a gift of less than $250.

What do you do when a donor treats every gift as a quid pro quo, where the biggest benefit must come to them?

It’s tempting to say “Who the (insert your favorite expletive) do you think you are?” But that of course will typically backfire and make your organization look bad.

All you really can do is thank them vociferously for their generous gift, remind them (often!) of the impact it has had, and politely tell them that no, you cannot put their name in lights on top of the building, or find them front row seats for the sold-out opening night.  And you can make sure their dirty dishes get removed, their empty glass is refilled, and when, and only when, appropriate, introduce them to the celebrity they feel they have the right to meet.

And mostly remind yourself that what truly matters is not these awful people—who are, thankfully, a small (very small) minority of your donors—but the community you serve and cause that your organization works so hard to make better.