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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 Two (December 2001) ****** "What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them how." (W. Wordsworth, from "The Prelude") NOTES FROM READERS >>What you think<< I write this issue from
a new place in life. Abigail
and I have just returned this past week from a long-awaited trip to
Vietnam, where we received our son, Thomas, who will be a year old next
week. I promise not to
offer any premature lessons on the nature of parenthood (or to attach
baby pictures to Notes!). Suffice
it to say that my outlook on life is changed forever because of the
immense joy and gratitude that has come into our lives. Several insightful
responses to the last issue of Notes.
Pamela Miller of Rockhurst
University in Kansas City writes, “Reflection. [This] came quickly
to mind when your e-mail subject line popped up in my windowpane. That
the events of September 11 and following have caused us to see ourselves
in the mirror - as we have seen ourselves, as others have (and this has
been unsettling in many ways), and as we'd like to be seen.”
She goes on to say that our philanthropy can’t help but be
strengthened when we take the time to reflect. Prue Precourt, of the
Experimental Air Association in Wisconsin, writes, “I was reminded of
a conversation I had recently with a friend who now lives in Mexico
City, but who was in London for part of the Blitz before going off to
fight. His comments reminded me that, while America is going through a
painful period of change, we should also be mindful of the rest of the
world. We think global in good times, but turn inward in times of
national stress. This is normal, but we should not forget the global
perspective.” Well said.
I think it is important that our reflection not be an escape from
the reality of the world, but an integrated aspect of what it means to
be a good human being in a complex world. And finally, Ray Marshall, from the British Columbia Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, wrote about a recent experience facilitating an online remembrance of a friend who had died shortly after September 11. He reports, “I set before the group the Covey-esque question of "if you were to attend your own funeral, what would you hope people would say about you"? The obvious, but difficult to live-out point is, that we must work hard at our calling today, to be that person who will be well spoken of at their funeral at some time in the future. The question evoked some interesting answers from among the group and some contrition for lives presently lived that were not likely to result in admirable casket-side eulogies.” May we all work hard at living out our callings today. I also was pleased that
Wendell Berry’s powerful poem for his granddaughters, written upon the
occasion of their visit to the Holocaust Museum, was a source of comfort
and hope for many of you. The
poetic imagination seems more important than ever. 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 >>The
choices we make << One of the enduring
myths of the American experience is neatly summarized in Robert
Frost’s ubiquitous poem, “The
Road Not Taken,” in which he writes, “I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the
difference.” For many of us, these
words—uttered at commencements and noted in personal journals—stand
for the choices we make in our lives, the choices that supposedly make
all the difference to the sorts of people we are, the work we pursue,
the lives we make. I took
the road less traveled by—and that has made all the difference. Or has it?
Is it the case that the discrete choices we make in our lives
truly separate us from the alternative decisions we might have made?
Did my decision to take a job as a college fundraiser when I left
graduate school separate me from the life of ministry or the life of a
college faculty member that were the alternatives I might have chosen?
Or do I still face the call of those alternative pursuits even as
I go about my chosen vocation? I
chose not to live my father’s life as a Lutheran minister—I took the
less traveled by path—but his ministry still informs my life, instills
me with faith and fervor. I
chose not to be a religion professor—I took the other road—but the
life of scholarship and teaching still fills me with joy and meaning,
while challenging me to be more reflective about my chosen work. The myth of the choices
we make—the notion that we can separate ourselves from the choices we
did not make—truly impoverishes our personal and common lives.
The richness and adventures of the many divergent paths never
taken are the stuff of which authentic and honest lives are made.
We must never leave behind the lessons and insights of roads not
taken, because they keep us honest, they challenge the status quo, they
guide us to new ways of seeing and practicing our duties in the world. Wendell
Berry reminds us, “Having chosen one way, we are never free of the
opposite way…Such choices are not clean-cut and final, as when we
choose one of two forks in the road, but they involve us in tension, in
tendency. We must keep on
choosing.” (“The Obligation of Care,” Sierra, September/October
1995). How remarkable it is to
imagine the choices we have yet to make.
How liberating to know that the choices we have made are never
final. How daunting to
consider the adventures that lie ahead of us. [Questions for discussion: Think of a decision you have made in your life. What alternatives did you not choose? What continuing impact do the unchosen alternatives have on your life? What does the myth of the choices we make mean for our lives in organizations? What impact does it have on organizations when they choose one path and close off thinking about and practicing alternative strategies? How does the practice of philanthropy relate to the choices we make? How might recalling paths not taken strengthen philanthropy?] >>A
commonplace: Vocation<< The idea of vocation,
literally “a calling,” informs much of my reflection and practice.
I enjoy learning about the different ways in which vocation can
be defined and described. Consider
this commonplace (see Notes, 2-2: “commonplace
books are hand-copied collections of memorable passages from books they
have read—and in those commonplaces are the ammunition, the
inspirations, the clarifications, the meditations, and the sensations to
understand the why and how and what of life in the world”) an interim
report on what I have learned thus far. I would welcome your additions to my never-finished list.
My thanks to Professor Michael Duffy (Hanover
College) for helping to expand my list with his own explorations of
vocation in the Hanover Quarterly (Summer 2001). “A certain kind of
life, ordained and imposed on [us] by God, for the common good.”
(William Perkins) “First, each calling
is unique to each individual…Second, calling requires certain
preconditions. It requires
more than desires; it requires talent…For a calling to be right, it
must fit our abilities…Third, a true calling reveals its presence by
the enjoyment and sense of renewed energies its practice yields us…A
fourth truth about callings is also apparent: They are not usually easy
to discover.” (Michael Novak) “Viewing a profession
as a calling involves two distinguishable features: certain qualities of
motivation, and a broader and deeper vision of the ends to be served.”
(James Gustafson) “We ought not to run
away from one another and each seek to live for himself; rather, we
should stay with one another in all kinds of vocations, just as God has
joined us together, and each serve the other.” (Martin Luther) “Our work must be
measured by the standard of eternity; or that it must be done for God
first and foremost.” (Dorothy Sayers) “You have the right
to work, but never to the fruit of work.
You should never engage in action for the sake of reward, nor
should you long for inaction. Perform
work in the world…as a man established within himself – without
selfish attachments, and alike in success and defeat…The wise work for
the welfare of the world, without thought for themselves…Perform all
work carefully, guided by compassion.”
(Bhagavad-Gita) “The call is not
simply something out of a distant past; it comes today and it comes to
elicit a response from us and to engage us in dialogue.” (Esther de
Waal) “But yield who will
to their separation, My object in living is to unite My avocation and my
vocation As my two eyes make one in sight.
Only where love and need are one, And the work is play for mortal
stakes, Is the deed ever really done For Heaven and the future’s
sakes.” (Robert Frost) “Please call me by my
true names, so I can hear all my cries and laughters at once, so I can
see that my joy and pain are one. Please
call me by my true names, so I can wake up and open the door of my
heart, the door of compassion.” (Thich Nhat Hanh) “Now I become myself.
It’s taken time, many years and places.
I have been dissolved and shaken, Worn other people’s
faces…” (May Sarton) ‘[Vocation] means a
calling that I hear. Before
I can tell my life what I want to do with it, I must listen to my life
telling me who I am. I must
listen for the truths and values at the heart of my own identity, not
the standards by which I must live—but the standards by which I cannot
help but live if I am living my own life.” (Parker Palmer) “The question, Who am
I?, inevitably leads to the equally important question, Whose am I?”
(A Quaker teacher) “Vocation is the
place where your deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.”
(Frederick Buechner) ****** PRACTICE
THIS >>A philanthropy education for our times << Elizabeth Lynn, who
directs the Project on Civic Reflection at Valparaiso
University, and D. Susan Wisely, who oversees evaluation activities
for Lilly Endowment, recently authored a paper entitled, “Only
Reflect: A Philanthropic Education for Our Time,” in which they argued
that our times are characterized by a profound freedom—and
loneliness—in choosing how we will live.
These times, they suggest, require a philanthropic education that
helps us to talk about what we value and how we believe the world works.
We need guidance to help us choose wisely.
Their proposal is a form of philanthropic education grounded in
“civic reflection,” which acknowledges the desires of people to
decide for themselves about giving as an aspect of the good life.
Civic reflection occurs when small groups of civic leaders come
together regularly to discuss their questions about “the why and
wherefore of giving,” in light of selected readings, and with the aid
of trained facilitators. The
participants read short selections from the work of such authors as
Alexis de Tocqueville, Jane Addams, Andrew Carnegie, Ralph Waldo
Emerson, and others. They
then relate these readings to personal experience and perspectives on
philanthropy, ultimately developing a deeper understanding of how their
giving is part of a larger web of relationships, traditions, and values. It is an elegant paper
and program. I had the
pleasure of responding to the paper when it was presented at a recent
conference – and I would ask each of you the same questions that I
asked of the authors and audience: * What are the (additional) readings and exercises that you believe should be part of a philanthropic education for our time? What do you read that helps you (and might help others) make sense of philanthropy in the early 21st century? * Given the clear focus
of this program on what the authors understand are primarily the liberal
arts or the “intellectual” aspects of understanding philanthropy,
what are the other sorts of education we might need to better practice
philanthropy? For example,
what are the civic or moral arts we need to be philanthropic – is
empathy important, what does it mean to be a good citizen, how about
courage, or taking responsibility?
And what about the domestic arts that are part of being
philanthropic – is sharing something we need to learn, how about
serving others above ourselves, or being willing to get involved in
messy, day-to-day domestic activities? I will count on you to
offer your own curricular recommendations.
The Lynn/Wisely philanthropic education is a wonderful
start—they are to be commended for enriching our public discourse
about philanthropy. Each of us bears special responsibility for ensuring that
education for philanthropy is extended to all citizens who are called to
make wise choices about giving and the good life. >>The
grays of our lives: practicing ethical reflection<< Last month, I led a
conference workshop on the ethics of philanthropy for a group of
fundraisers in Chicago. As I prepared for the presentation, I returned to Marilyn
Fischer’s wonderful text, “Ethical
Decision Making for Fund Raisers” (Wiley & Sons, 2000).
Some of you may know that Professor Fischer, who teaches
philosophy at the University of Dayton,
developed her general model of ethical decision making for fundraisers
with the good help and collaboration of members of the Miami
Valley chapter of the Association of
Fundraising Professionals. The
result is a genuine exercise in reflective practice. I find the model
particularly insightful because it eschews easy solutions to moral
questions. It encourages
and supports the sort of wide ranging deliberation about ethical issues
that I think our complex moral lives deserve. It honors the “messiness” of our lives, not so as to
excuse us from making ethical decisions, but to remind us that the
decisions we make have implications that go beyond the moment, beyond
the actual decision, beyond the short-term consequences.
In other words, our ethical decisions are often about the
“grays” of our lives, not the blacks or the whites—and that is
sometimes difficult for us to recognize and accept. Consider and practice
the model Professor Fischer suggests (with a few tweaks…): * Describe a moral case or dilemma – writing your own case studies can be a very helpful way to think through moral issues. * Name the alternatives for what you might do in response to the case – for example, if someone is being dishonest, you can ignore the problem, confront them about the lies, or report them to some appropriate superior. Three alternative responses to an ethical dilemma. * Then, consider each
of your alternative responses from four different perspectives: > How does this response contribute to or detract from the public trust? > How does this response contribute to or detract from my organization’s mission? > How does this response fit into my notions of professional duty and responsibility?
> How does this response
fit with my personal integrity and values? Professor Fischer
offers some rich context to each of these questions.
For example, how well do the codes of ethics for our professional
associations help us discern our professional duties?
How does our personal integrity get formed?
What forms does the public trust take in our lives? Decisions must be made,
of course, and each of us makes such ethical decisions every day.
What this model of ethical decision-making does, however, is to
challenge us to think more globally about the moral issues we face and
to recognize that the decisions we ultimately make may conflict with
other important values. We
may even make the wrong decisions—for all sorts of good reasons—and
then we may be faced with the need for perhaps the most vexing moral
skill: the capacity to ask for forgiveness. The grays of our lives
demand reflective practice. ****** PAY
ATTENTION TO THIS >>Some
new resources<< A few new sources for
your reflective practice. I’ve recently
subscribed to a daily online newsletter called “Diversity.com,”
which offers a helpful summary of current news, analysis, best
practices, and research findings on issues related to diversity in the
world and the workplace. Perhaps
now more than ever, we need to be reminded that diversity is a part of
our lives, a reality to be understood, celebrated, and practiced. To subscribe, go to www.diversity.com. Apropos our discussions
in the last issue of Notes about how the events
of September 11 and the aftermath will make a difference in our
philanthropy, I was pleased to find a helpful report prepared by the
staff at the Center on
Philanthropy at Indiana University and commissioned by the American
Association of Fund Raising Counsel (AAFRC), entitled “What
Do Crises Mean for Giving?” The
report highlights statistics and trends associated with past wars,
economic downturns, and political crises.
A good reminder of how resilient our philanthropy has always
been. To find the report, go to www.aafrc.org. I’ve had reason in
recent weeks to return to the work of Jane
Addams, founder of the Hull
House in Chicago and Nobel
Peace Prize winner in 1932 for her work on the west side of Chicago
and beyond. I was reminded
in re-reading her “Twenty
Years at Hull House” (originally published in 1910, Macmillan) of
the remarkable legacy she offers for our reflection on philanthropy.
Her sense of the “common and thronged road” we share with our
fellow citizens is most relevant to our times. >>An
anthem for love and children<< In
the spirit of this season of thanksgiving and light, I offer these
powerful words from Kahlil
Gibran’s “The
Prophet,” which remind us that the work of stewardship is not
about possession, it is about love.
May your holidays be full of love and good work. “Love is
Separateness” Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you. And though they are
with you they belong not to you. You may give them your love, but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backwards nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bow from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrow may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also
the bow that is stable. >>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 (February 2002)<< * A meditation on common work * The inner journey of leadership * Some notes on the
practices of prospect management (c) Paul Pribbenow, 2001 |
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