|
|
Notes for
the by Paul Pribbenow, Ph.D. |
|
|
Philanthropy is a journey. Let JGA be your guide.
Johnson, Grossnickle and Associates Inc.
|
Volume Four, Number Three (February 2003) ****** "What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them how." (W. Wordsworth, from "The Prelude") NOTES FROM READERS >>What you think<< It has been pretty quiet these past few weeks – perhaps it is a sign of these troubling times. I believe that this is precisely the time when we most need to be in contact, to have conversations, to find communities of memory and support that give us courage and resolve to continue to hope, to keep the faith. Theologian Frederick Buechner wrote more than thirty years ago “it is hope that is the hardest and rarest among men.” He then challenged humankind to hope with these words: “There is a Hebrew word for hope, gāwāh, whose root means to twist, to twine, and it is a word that fits our brand of hoping well. The possibility that this good thing will happen and that that bad thing will not happen, a hundred strands of hope that we twist together to make a cable of hope strong enough to pull ourselves along through our lives with…” It is not enough, of course, this cable of hope, but it is perhaps the beginning, the first step along the way to the mystery of true hope that we seek there in the darkness. 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 & Associates for their abiding support for our reflective practice. ****** REFLECT ON THIS >>Peace<< There is inevitability to the rhetoric of war that dominates our public discourse these days. Of course, in many ways, the current circumstance is simply a few steps on the side of that thin line we walk as humans between the best and the worst of our nature. To care or not to care – to love or not to love – to wage peace or wage war. In my own reflection during this time, I have revisited several authors whose work – while realistic about our nature – suggests that there are other ways to imagine and act when faced with a threat, an enemy, an inevitability. I think of these authors as offering us the strategies of an alternative diplomacy, if you will. Listen with me to their challenging lessons. First, the political philosopher and theologian John Courtney Murray, SJ, writing in his We Hold These Truths (Sheed and Ward, 1960): “Barbarism…is the lack of reasonable conversation according to reasonable laws. Here the word “conversation” has its twofold Latin sense. It means living together and talking together. Barbarism threatens when men cease to live together according to reason, embodied in law and custom, and incorporated in a web of institutions that sufficiently reveal rational influences…Society becomes barbarian when men are huddled together under the rule of force and fear; when economic interests assume the primacy over higher values…Barbarism likewise strikes when men cease to talk together…Argument ceases to be civil when it is dominated by passion and prejudice; when its vocabulary becomes solipsist; when dialogue gives way to a series of monologues; when parties to the conversation cease to listen to one another…” How shall we recover our capacity for conversation – genuine living and talking together? Next, to the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who writes in his collection of sermons, Strength to Love (Fortress, 1963): “Why should we love our enemies? The first reason is…(that) returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a world already devoid of stars…. Another reason is that hate scars the soul and distorts the personality…to its victims (and) to the person who hates…A third reason is that love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.” Practical, you ask? Idealistic, you charge! “Do to us what you will,” King said, “and we shall continue to love you.” And so he did. And finally, to recently retired president of the Czech Republic and playwright, Vaclav Havel, whose address “The Need for Transcendence in the Post-Modern World” was delivered at Independence Hall in Philadelphia: “Yes, the only real hope of people today is probably a renewal of our certainty that we are rooted in the earth and, at the same time, in the cosmos. This awareness endows us with the capacity for self-transcendence. …(T)he truly reliable path to coexistence, to peaceful coexistence and creative cooperation, must start from what is at the root of all cultures and what lies infinitely deeper in human hearts and minds than political opinion, convictions, antipathies, or sympathies - it must be rooted in self-transcendence:
This transcendence, Havel argues, is the foundation for our roles as ambassadors of trust in a fearful world – the only real alternative to not caring, to not loving, to waging war instead of peace, to extinction. >>The architecture of our lives<< For my birthday last month, I received five beautifully framed prints of historic institutions of higher learning in the US – the College of William and Mary, Harvard, Columbia, Yale, and Dartmouth. I thought of those collegiate scenes when I heard a local architect suggest that he thought of architecture as the celebration of space. Colleges are often remarkable celebrations of space – in ways that perhaps expand our understanding of the architecture of our lives. The same local architect talked about his work in three helpful categories. First, architecture is a vocation, a calling. In a recent article in Preservation (January/February 2003), author Michael Byers describes a visit to the Mall in Washington, DC and suggests that the various monuments there – all architectural icons – attest to our better natures. As he navigates the mall, commenting on the quality of each monument’s design and function, Byers reminds us that, at its best, architecture challenges us to face the truth that “I am a participant in a world civilization, I have history entrusted to me, we are all in this together.” Who can stand on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, in the shadow of the mighty columns, beneath the inscripted “With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right…”, where King spoke and Anderson sang – and not feel the call? Second, architecture is a theory, an explanation of how to build, a set of ideas about the process of building. In an elegant essay entitled “Why Space Matters for the Liberal Arts,” Mount Holyoke German professor Karen Remmler quotes Emily Dickinson: “I dwell in possibility/A fairer House than Prose/More numerous of windows/Superior for Doors.” Remmler suggests that architecture is about dwelling in possibilities. Its theories are about the entire fabric of human interaction and expression. She reminds us that the theories of architecture help all of us to see our surroundings through different eyes and to recognize the impact that buildings have on our lives. All citizens, she argues, must be architects in this way, using ideas about building to take responsibility for our surroundings. Finally, architecture is a practice, the concrete activities of building. Here is a reminder that understanding architecture as calling and theory necessarily leads us to shape our spaces to serve the purposes we intend. I always return to sociologist Ray Oldenburg’s The Great Good Place: Cafes, Coffee Shops, Community Centers, Beauty Parlors, General Stores, Bars, Hangouts, and How They Get You Through the Day (Paragon House, 1989), which argues that informal public spaces are an integral aspect of “feeling at home.” Practicing architecture means creating spaces that serve public purposes. In a different ‘practice’ vein, my former Wabash College colleague, Steve Webb, has recently suggested that colleges should pay more attention to the connection between space and sound (LiberalArtsOnline, 12/13/02), because sound creates space. People gather in spaces to hear each other, thus forming community in the nexus between soundscape and landscape. Thus, the practice of architecture shapes the environments we inhabit and the lives we lead. My historic college scenes are a daily reminder for me that the architecture of our lives – calling, theory, and practice – has long shaped the places where we find meaning and purpose in the world, forums where we belong, spaces in which we feel at home. ****** PRACTICE THIS >>Distinctions<< The hyberbolic nature of marketing messages too often leads to claims of unique ‘this and that’ – unique institutions, unique services and products, unique values, and so on. Unfortunately such claims often leave unexamined the very real distinctions that exist among institutions and services and values, distinctions that may well provide the substance of arguments that are persuasive, compelling, and responsible. A recent issue of the Marts and Lundy Counsel (Winter 2002-03) tells of consultant (and former college president) Bob Chambers’ efforts to understand why some institutions flourish during good times and bad while others seem to struggle all the time. His conclusion is that “every institution has a story all its own, with heroes, villains, and battles aplenty to brag about, exclaim over, or, occasionally, apologize for.” Successful institutions never stop telling their distinctive stories. I know this issue first-hand. A recent decision to name a new center here at Rockford College after a sister institution with which we have a rather checkered history raised many eyebrows and led some to complain that we would limit the effectiveness of the center by focusing on the past. To the contrary, I argued, our relationship with the institution was a part of our history and to ignore it was to move forward without taking responsibility for our college’s past – good and not so good. Stewardship of our distinctive history – as provocative as it may sometimes be – is a key to organizational integrity. The challenge is to find ways to communicate our distinctive institutional sagas, to tell our stories in convincing and compelling ways. Perhaps we are not all Harvard or Stanford or the Mayo Clinic, but there is distinctiveness to our story that deserves to be known. Believing that – and practicing it – is the foundation for genuine mission-based marketing and fundraising >>Pitting donors against nonprofits<< A Sunday New York Times article (2/2/03) describes a pending lawsuit in Illinois against a telemarketing firm that, while working for nonprofit organizations, told potential donors that their contributions would be used primarily for charitable purposes, when, in fact, most of the gifts were being used to pay for administrative and fundraising costs. The lawsuit has pitted various nonprofit organizations against each other concerning questions about donor rights to know how their money is spent versus the rights of nonprofits to raise money as they see fit and necessary. In the donors’ corner are fundraising accountability organizations like the Wise Giving Alliance and the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy arguing that the withholding of information from donors prevents them from exercising accurate judgments about their gifts. On the side of nonprofit organizations are Independent Sector, the Association of Fundraising Professionals, and the Direct Marketing Association, arguing that there are adequate laws already in place to protect donor interests and what is most needed is the enforcement of those laws by beefed-up IRS and state attorneys general offices. Both sides claim it is about the 1st amendment – the free speech of donors versus that of nonprofits. Wherever you come down on this issue (and I’d be pleased to receive your thoughts), you have to wonder what impact this case will have on public perceptions of the accountability and integrity of philanthropic practice. >>Voluntary Chaos<< As a relatively new resident of my community, I've recently joined several nonprofit boards of directors. It's intriguing to witness how other nonprofit leaders work with their boards, employing the various skills and commitments of board members in pursuit of organizational missions and goals. A recent on-line article in the CharityChannel’s Volunteer Management Review (December 18, 2002) entitled “Voluntary Chaos” struck me as a particularly insightful perspective on the difficulties of managing volunteers like me, who enjoy and are best motivated by a bit of chaos! Following the argument of organizational theorist Margaret Wheatley, the essay’s author Amy Belanger suggests that volunteer programs depend as much on chaos as they do on order. Volunteer programs should give participants the sense that there is a need for them, a critical role that they can play in service of organizational mission. Too highly structured a program may deny this need and role. In fact, as we learn from the chaos theory of quantum physics, “highly functional systems are based on principles defining an overall identity, combined with autonomy for individual components. This results in some chaotic movement inside an ordered system.” Those of us who believe that a well-designed organizational structure is the key to ensuring that volunteers don’t run amok need to remember that volunteer motivations are diverse and rich – and many individuals today are seeking meaning, purpose, and community in their volunteer activities. Volunteers play at least two important roles -- to help the organization and to enhance their own being. These roles may sometimes clash, forcing the organization to be creative and adapt. Such accommodation (which can lead to a bit of chaos) can also lead to fruitful results. Belanger urges volunteer managers to become enlightened leaders, going beyond filling our volunteer slots on our terms to a perspective that looks to link institutional mission and needs with the personal needs of the volunteer. This sort of leadership “inspires volunteers to stay committed, to share their commitment with others, and to rise to new levels of leadership themselves.” Leave room for chaos, Belanger urges us – there you will find both the wonder of common work and the successful results we all seek. I’m convinced she’s got it right. ****** PAY ATTENTION TO THIS >>Resources for your reflective practice< I happened on a website that contains (or links to) the important and provocative work of my friend and teacher, Robert Payton. Visit www.paytonpapers.org and find chapters from Philanthropy: Voluntary Action for the Public Good (1988, now out of print), along with essays and letters from other sources (included unpublished material) I’ve just received my copy of Charity, Philanthropy, and Civility in American History, edited by Lawrence J. Friedman and Mark D. McGarvie (Cambridge University Press, 2003). A quick look suggests that it is another important contribution to the growing body of knowledge about the historical roots of philanthropy in America. I heard a fascinating lecture at a recent college leader conference by Neil Howe, who (along with William Strauss) authored Millennials Rising: The Next Great Generation (Vintage, 2000) and has developed a fascinating theory of generational patterns in American society. Their most recent work specifically talks about the impact of the millennial generation going to college. We might also consider the impact on future philanthropy. For more information, visit www.lifecourse.com. >>Recalling heroes<< In her Twenty Years at Hull-House, Jane Addams writes eloquently of the influence Abraham Lincoln had on her life. She was born just five years before Lincoln was assassinated, but her father was a friend of Lincoln’s and made sure that young Jane knew the story of Lincoln’s life and principles. When we discuss Twenty Years at Hull-House with our students here at Rockford College, I often ask if there are heroes or heroines like Abraham Lincoln that young people look up to as worthy of emulation. I’m sad that the answer often is ‘no.’ In this month when we remember presidents Lincoln and Washington, excerpts from this familiar poem by Walt Whitman remind us all of how important it is to have leaders who inspire us to great things. May such leaders rise up among us. “When lilacs last in door-yard bloom’d” When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd--and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring;
Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.
O powerful, western, fallen star!
O shades of night! O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear'd! O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless! O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud, that will not free my soul!
In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash'd palings,
Stands the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom, rising, delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle...and from this bush in the door-yard,
With delicate-color'd blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig, with its flower, I break.
….
Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
Amid lanes, and through old woods, (where lately the violets peep'd from the ground, spotting the gray debris;)
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes -- passing the endless grass;
Passing the yellow-spear'd wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprising;
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards;
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin
Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night, with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop'd flags, with the cities draped in black,
With the show of the States themselves, as of crape-veil'd women, standing,
With processions long and winding, and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit--with the silent sea of faces, and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn;
With all the mournful voices of the dirges, pour'd around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs--Where amid these you journey
With the tolling, tolling bells' perpetual clang;
Here! coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.
….
O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls,
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?
….Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep, for the dead I loved so well, For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands – and this for his dear sake. Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul. There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim. >>Subscription information<< Subscriptions to Notes are simple to establish. Send me an email at paul_pribbenow@rockford.edu, ask to be added to the list, and you will receive a confirmation from the mail server 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. The current and archive issues of Notes are available on-line at www.jgacounsel.com. >>Topics for the next issue (April 2003)<<
(c) Paul Pribbenow, 2003 |
|
