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Notes for
the by Paul Pribbenow, Ph.D. |
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Philanthropy is a journey. Let JGA be your guide. Johnson, Grossnickle and
Associates LLC
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Volume
Three, Number Three (February 2002) ****** "What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them how." (W. Wordsworth, from "The Prelude") NOTES FROM READERS >>What you think<< Things change.
I’m told that studies indicate that for mental health reasons
significant life changes should really be spread out a bit – things
like having a child, changing jobs, moving, and so forth.
Well, we’re taking a different approach. You know about Thomas, our son, newly adopted from Vietnam
– and a real joy. Thanks
to all of you who wrote with words of congratulations and encouragement.
You may or may not know that shortly after the last issue of
Notes appeared, I was elected the 16th president of Rockford
College in Illinois. I
begin as acting president on April 1 and then formally take up my new
duties as president on July 1. So,
we are moving to Rockford, Illinois at the end of March.
Keep a good thought for us, if you will, as we embark upon our
new and exciting changes and adventures. These Notes will
endure, be assured, for there is catharsis and calm and community here,
for which I am most grateful. Pamela Miller (Rockhurst
University in Kansas City) wrote in response to my meditation in the
last issue of Notes on Robert
Frost and paths we take: “I don't think it's the idea that I am
dedicated to being a trailblazer or seeking the unknown (I'm no Star
Trekker; I can't recall that I've been anywhere "no man has
gone before"). Rather, that I should not always take a path because
it is safe for me, because it is known to me, because it is familiar to
me, because it can be taken while requiring no thought at all on my
part. That as much as I can, I should explore the possibilities of any
path I take - where does it lead, where does it branch, who might join
me for a while, will it speak to my dreams and my goals and my soul,
will it make a difference in the world-or at least my little corner of
the world?” I promised not to offer
premature reflections on parenthood, but I can’t resist one
observation. It is about
Thomas’s bedtime and the thin, fragile line that exists for him
between being awake with a vengeance (crying, thrashing, craving
attention, clearly unhappy) and the sound, deep sleep that he so needs.
One moment he is screaming, the next he is profoundly asleep.
There is a lesson on that line, I think, about the very small
distinctions between our diverse needs.
If only I could sleep so soundly… There are a significant
number of new subscribers to Notes as of this issue, thanks in large
part to the “Advancing Philanthropy” article that appeared in
November 2001. Welcome to
our conversations. Occasionally,
I (or my colleagues) refer to items from previous issues of Notes.
If you have not been a subscriber previously, and wish to review
our conversations, past issues of Notes are available on-line at www.jgacounsel.com.
The website version of Notes also includes helpful hyperlinks to
sources for purchasing or subscribing to the various publications
mentioned in Notes. I
thank my friends at Johnson, Grossnickle and
Associates for their abiding support for our reflective practice. ****** REFLECT
ON THIS >>A
parable of common work<< I have written here
before about my notions of philanthropy as common work.
I have returned recently to those reflections because I have
spent a good bit of time rereading the work of Jane
Addams. The life and
work of Addams have become a bit of a cottage industry in the past
couple of months, primarily because of the work of University
of Chicago professor Jean
Bethke Elshtain, who has written “Jane
Addams and the Dream of American Democracy” (Basic Books, 2002)
and compiled “The
Jane Addams Reader” (Basic Books, 2002). Well – believe it or
not – Jane Addams is a graduate of Rockford College.
As a student of Addams, I was intrigued to explore the ways in
which her legacy is still imbedded in the college’s culture.
I was especially pleased to return to Louise Knight’s elegant
essay, “Jane Addams’s Views on the Responsibilities of Wealth,”
(in Burlingame’s “The
Responsibilities of Wealth,” Indiana University Press, 1992),
which was my first introduction to the “parable” of common work. The story of how Jane
Addams encouraged a more “humane” approach to philanthropy in her
work during the late 19th and early 20th centuries
at Hull House, on Chicago’s west side, offers a parable for our
contemporary efforts to reimagine the work of philanthropy as a public
practice—work we do together, in and through organizations, on behalf
of public causes. Jane Addams received
many offers of financial help from her family and friends for her work
with the poor at Hull House. Addams
would not, however, accept these philanthropic gifts without also urging
the prospective donor to come to Hull House, where residents of the
neighborhood, urban program experts from nearby universities, and the
Hull House staff, would join with the donor to discuss how best to use
the gift to make life better in the neighborhood.
This is a parable about philanthropy as common work.
There are appropriate and important roles for donors, recipients,
volunteers, experts, and others, as the work that philanthropy supports
is pursued. This is not meant to
portray a literal analogy to contemporary philanthropic practices.
It does, however, stand as an important parable, reminding us of
how fragmented our philanthropic efforts have become. Fragmented between donor and recipient, between philanthropic
organizations and potential volunteers, between professional fundraisers
and other staff members in the organizations they serve, and so on.
The parable urges us to find ways to once again pursue
philanthropy as common work, work (and its implications) that properly
belongs to all citizens. The implications of the
parable of common work are manifold for philanthropic organizations and
for the profession of philanthropic fundraising: For
philanthropic organizations
For the
philanthropic fundraising profession
I look forward to
pursuing Jane Addams’s vision for a humane philanthropy – our common
work – at her alma mater! >>Scientific
literacy and the liberal arts<< It has been difficult
to eavesdrop on the public discourse during the past several months –
especially as we were challenged with stem cell research, anthrax,
bioterrorism, and similar topics – without worrying about our
competencies individually and as a society to understand the scientific
facts and foundations behind these public opportunities and threats. This concern occurred
to me more than a year ago when I was teaching the core course at Wabash
College and as I floundered a bit with my own capacities to lead
students through science-oriented readings.
I wrote the following essay in response to that experience.
It was first published before September 11 in LiberalArtsOnline,
the email newsletter of the Center of Inquiry in the Liberal Arts at
Wabash College. Now, it
seems more prescient than I imagined – and it is a reminder to all of
us who aspire to be liberally educated about our needs to be lifelong
learners. I, for one, have
just subscribed to “Scientific American,” which is a start… “Last year, I had the
privilege of teaching in our college’s sophomore core course, Cultures
and Traditions. Perhaps the most painful few days of the discussion-oriented
course addressed the issues raised in William Paley’s argument by
design for the existence of God (in Natural
Theology – or Evidences of the Existence and Attributes of the Deity
Collected from the Appearances of Nature, first published in
1802) and Richard Dawkins’s The
Blind Watchmaker: Why the Evidence of Evolution Reveals a Universe
without Design (W.W. Norton, new edition, 1996). I won’t bore you with
my inadequate grasp of Dawkins’s position, but suffice it to say that
our classroom conversations were hampered by my inability to fill in the
gaps of the argument—and to draw my bright students into the wonder of
scientific exploration and interpretation. I am liberally
educated—or so I like to think—and yet I have managed (as have many
of my humanist and social scientist friends) to avoid the sort of
in-depth reading and study of the natural sciences that we would expect
of those who are well rounded, literate, and curious about the world in
which we live. I think
about my own liberal arts education in the mid 1970s and recall how I
was gladly able to sidestep biology and physics in lieu of an additional
semester of a foreign language or a statistics course. As we made our initial
plans for the Center of Inquiry in the Liberal Arts, we found a rather
obvious bias toward (or misunderstanding of) the role of the sciences in
the liberal arts. Our attempt to place an advertisement for Center staff in the
Chronicle of Higher Education, slated to appear in the Executive
section, was waylaid by some well-intentioned ad staffer into the
Humanities section. All of this by way of
saying that we may have an uphill battle to convince those who care
(or should care) about the liberal arts that all the wonders of
human knowledge deserve a place at our banquet table and on our reading
lists—most especially the wonders of scientific theories and
experiments and interpretations. A recent interview with
Richard Dawkins in the Harvard Business Review (January 2001,
159-163) brings me back to my sophomore students, intent on a genuine
liberal arts experience. Perhaps
it is a matter of how we define relevance.
Dawkins, faced with the growing use of scientific theories and
metaphors to diagnose and describe organizations and leadership,
suggests that the issue should not be the “easy” relevance of
science to human experience (e.g., is behavior hardwired?).
Instead, he says: “My main message to laypeople, therefore, is:
Don’t rely on the scientists to interpret everything for you.
Try to understand the issues for yourselves.
Scientific literacy is its own reward.
It will take you to places you have never gone before – and in
the process, it will help you to lead a better, fuller – dare I say
it? – happier life.” And there we have a
most eloquent statement of why we care about the liberal arts.
Excuse me while I get started in making up for my self-imposed
deficiencies—I owe it to myself and to my students.” And, I might add, we
owe it to the body politic… ****** PRACTICE
THIS >>Notes
on managing prospects<< I have had the
opportunity during the past several months to help several different
nonprofit organizations as they worked to put in place what is known as
(rather inelegantly, I fear) a prospect management plan and program for
their fundraising efforts. I
am not always intrigued with the mundane, detail-oriented work of such
plans – they involve such activities as defining prospects for gifts,
the means of determining the capacity and inclination of said prospects
to make gifts to the organization, the various strategies in place for
cultivating, soliciting, and stewarding gifts, as well as the management
tools and systems by which all this activity is organized and monitored.
Exciting stuff perhaps not, but it is absolutely critical to the
responsible work of every nonprofit organization, no matter its size or
cause. And here is
why…prospect management ensures that:
Perhaps we might join
together to rethink how prospect management programs, devised and
implemented well, are at the core of our philanthropic leadership and
management. >>Leadership
once again: Journeying inward<< I could not imagine
going off to my first college presidency without revisiting some
important lessons about leadership. A few items for your
review:
>>Public
spaces<< A few issues of Notes
back (Notes, 2:3, February 2001), we discussed, to good response, Ray
Oldenburg’s fascinating book, “The
Great Good Place: Cafes, Coffeeshops, Community Centers, Beauty Parlors,
General Stores, Bars, Hangouts, and How They Get You Through the Day,”
(Paragon House, 1989) which I still recommend highly for its intriguing
challenge to create “third places,” contexts for community-building
and connectedness. A recent issue of
“The Utne Reader” (January-February 2002) addresses the issue of
great public spaces, suggesting that there are principles for helping to
create a beloved gathering place, including:
The same issue of
“The Utne Reader” lists the sixty best public spaces in the United
States. I’ve been to
sixteen so far – future itineraries may be shaped by the list!
Among my favorites – and where I agree with the authors – are
the Memorial Union at the University of Wisconsin – Madison;
Grace
Episcopal Cathedral in San Francisco; the Public Garden in Boston; the
Art Institute of Chicago; and Pike Place Market in Seattle.
Check out the list and get to work.
There are public spaces to be created! ****** PAY
ATTENTION TO THIS >>Some
new resources<< A few new sources for
your reflective practice. Those of you with an
interest in the links between marketing and philanthropy might enjoy
“Impact,” Insights into Online and Integrated Marketing Strategies
for Colleges and Universities by Kevin E. Houchin, Client Consultant at
Stamats Communications. It
appears a couple of times a month, is relevant to philanthropic
organizations more generally, and makes for some good conversation about
public trends and perceptions. For
information, contact impact@stamats.com. Some of the most
intriguing work on reflective practice and organizational behavior comes
out of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT).
I’ve recently joined the Society of Learning (SOL), based at
MIT, and have begun receiving its journal, “Reflections: The SOL
Journal on Knowledge, Learning, and Change.”
A recent issue, for example, included essays by Peter Senge and
Edgar Schein, who both have been extremely influential in shaping a
broader view of organizational purpose and dynamics. In addition to Jane
Addams, I’m currently reading William F. May’s “Beleaguered
Rulers: The Public Obligation of the Professional,” (Westminster
John Knox Press, 2001) which addresses obvious issues of significant
importance to all of us. >>Native
verse<< The winter 2001 issue
of the journal, “Rattle,” asks this question: What constitutes the
essence of poetry? Author Shaun T. Griffin
appeals, "Where are the poems that move us to tears with the taste
of such feeling?" There is a place for intellectualism in poetry,
he writes, yet emotional texture is a quality that is often overlooked.
Both qualities should be honored as the coil of imagination unwinds
around them." Hear,
hear. Here is a simple poem
that may bring a tear – of laughter or recognition.
It is authored by Mississippi folk artist, L.V.
Hull, who I met
last summer and whose wisdom is in your face. “Love is a sensation Started by conversation Spread by the population And hurts like an
operation.” What else can I say? >>Subscription
information<< Subscriptions to Notes
are simple to establish. Send
me an email at pribbenp@wabash.edu,
ask to be added to the list, and you will receive a confirmation from
the mailserver at Wabash College that you are on the list.
Please feel free to forward your email versions of Notes to
others—they then can subscribe by contacting me.
I also am happy to send Notes as an MS Word attachment to an
email, if that would make reading it easier for some of you.
Just let me know. The
current and archive issues of Notes are available on-line at www.jgacounsel.com. >>Topics
for the next issue (April 2002)<< * A meditation on mixed motivations * On why we need more counter-intolerance… * The vices and virtues of organizations (c) Paul Pribbenow, 2002 |
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