Twenty years ago I wrote an essay on my son Alex’s birthday. He’s 28 today and in honor of his birthday I’m posting that essay. It’s a reminder to be present and breathe in the between.
January 23, 1999
I am sitting here with a latte. I made it first thing this morning, blurry eyed and clutching baby precariously in one arm, I steamed milk for the latte with the other. It sits rapidly cooling as I juggle kid and animal needs all morning.
Then, for a brief heartbeat, a single exhaled breath I find myself in quiet observation of the moment. Everyone is content and a second has slowed enough for me to experience it.
I breathe. Softly, as not to disrupt it.
I feel the need to record this piece of time before it spins away. Even now, in searching for something on which to write, the living snapshot that enthralled me has powered up and raced forward.
Do I continue to describe the moment that crept in between the ordered chaos? It is in the past even as I try to hold it in the present. Isn’t life itself made up of second after second of this stuff? There was nothing special about that moment, only the complete observation of it.
The cat may have been the cause. Stepping gingerly onto my lap, knowing full well that it is a place that moves suddenly from rest to motion, taking the risk. She purred. Heavy and mesmerizing, maybe that was the catalyst.
Or, could it have been the dog? Being dog-like, he sat himself weightily next to the baby. An important job, protective, watchful as the baby happily played with cardboard Lego box.
Should that moment be captured because my oldest son, eight years old today sat at my side building a Lego spaceship? Hundreds of pieces coming together by his hand into a recognizable form. Enthralled in the creation of it.
Almost grown up. Still a baby.
The music was playing. A woman’s voice. My favorite song. The one we like to belt out at the top of our beautiful off-key voices.
Last week I was the passenger in a car traveling on Highway 2 in Washington State. We were in Tumwater Canyon on a narrow, winding stretch of road between Stevens Pass and Leavenworth. It was icy and the river that runs alongside looked cold and unforgiving.
As we rounded a corner, I saw three middle-aged men standing on the river side pointing across the road and up the steep hill. I looked up, what could it be? There had to be something very interesting for them to stand in such a dangerous spot at the side of the road.
I didn’t see anything but trees and brush and snow.
As we passed them, I saw that one of them had his phone held up; in the hand that I thought had been pointing at something.
They were taking a selfie.
As a human species, we’ve always had a fascination with documenting our experiences with pictures – from cave paintings to the family vacation slide show, to social media posts.
I’ve spent a great deal of the last six months thinking, learning and acting on the impact of storytelling – from how it connects and drives us, as you can read about in this post; to its practical application in fundraising as I shared in my blog post here.
In the past, the sight of three grown men risking injury on the side of the road to take a smiling selfie with the river and snow behind them would have flabbergasted me. “WTF are they thinking?!” I would have said to myself.
This time, it really struck home that the selfie is another tool we use in our need to tell stories. As a Gen-Xer with millennial and Gen-Z children, I used to get annoyed and shake my head with all the selfies (so many selfies).
However, after more thought, rather than admonish or judge the “young people” (and the middle aged men) who are taking selfies; we need to start understanding that this behavior is driven by a far more ancient and meaningful need – the need to tell our stories.
When we tell out stories, we learn, we teach, we grow and we share so that we belong. It’s survival folks.
So, take those selfies and feel confident in the knowledge that you are doing something you are wired to do to survive. Also, for the sake of survival, please don’t stand on the side of a dangerous stretch of highway when you do it.
Storytelling. It’s the latest buzzword for nonprofits. For good reason.
Storytelling is inherently part of being human; it’s how we relate to one another, how we learn, how we teach and how we influence. Storytelling is so tied into our survival as a species, that without it, we would have gone extinct a long time ago.
It makes sense that nonprofits, doing the work of saving the world would want to tap into the most effective power tool at their disposal – the power of story.
Do you remember being a child and being swept away by a story? Maybe you daydreamed a lot (I did) and the narrative in your head took you to a way more interesting place than that boring math class. It was as if you were actually in the story. That’s how powerful stories are – a good story can transport us to somewhere else and we feel as if we are actually there.
Whether someone is telling you a story, or you’re watching it in a movie or on TV, whether it’s in a daydream; the result is the same. The story creates an emotional response and you learn from it, whether you realize you are learning or not. You modify behavior because of it, whether you realize it or not.
It isn’t just the stories you hear (or daydream) that influence you. The stories you tell also influence you. When you tell a story that recreates an event, or you share something from your imagination; those stories are like throwing spaghetti on a wall to see if it will stick. You test your belief system against the reactions of others, and you keep or change your belief or behavior because of that reaction.
In nonprofits, especially in fundraising – the right kind of story can lead to more support and more engagement in your mission.
Let’s start with brain chemicals; specifically, cortisol, oxytocin and dopamine.
Because nonprofits are dealing with difficult and sometimes horrendous situations, the stories you tell will most certainly trigger cortisol, the stress hormone. It’s the chemical in the brain that yells “DISTRESS!” in all caps.
This is what the Sarah McLachlan video for the ASPCA did (you know which one, don’t make me put a link). Those ads were all about distress. They were so distressful, people have said they just turned off the TV. Not exactly the response you’re looking for as a nonprofit trying to tell your story.
You would think you would want to keep your wonderful supporters free of all cortisol, but that’s not true. Some nonprofits try to do that, telling only happy, feel-good stories because they believe that distressing their supporters will drive them away. Not true! What happens instead is that their supporters fail to recognize that action is necessary. Cortisol is something you want released in your donor’s brain. Why? Because cortisol demands that they wake up and pay attention.
Cortisol is not enough to motivate support however. While distress can and does often motivate a gift; that kind of motivation is not sustainable unless you plan to attack your donors with distressful information every time you need their support. Trust me, they will start to avoid you (and turn off the TV).
That brings us to the next component of a good fundraising story – empathy. Many fundraising stories fail to elicit empathy, which in the brain is a release of oxytocin. A person who does not feel empathy when you tell your story will not CARE about what you are telling them. This means, your story needs to speak to what they CARE about – not what you think is important.
Below is a video from neuroeconomist Paul Zak that explains:
Once this brain cocktail of distress and empathy is going, people are more likely to give to a charitable cause. Your job is to provide a means for them to do that, which then causes a little hit in the brain of that fabulous neurotransmitter, dopamine, the feel-good, reward-motivated driver.
Asking for a gift and giving someone a way to make a difference will trigger dopamine when they give (in both your brains!) When you thank them, more dopamine. When you report how their gift made a difference, also dopamine.
All that dopamine when we give. That’s why giving feels so damn good.
In addition, more parts of the brain activate when a person is told a story versus a litany of facts. Without going into all the science, I’ll summarize what researchers in Spain found.
When you share an experience with someone through a story, their brain synchronizes with it and they feel like they’ve experienced the same thing.
Tell a good story and your audience will actually feel like they are part of the story.
What does all of this mean and why does it matter? Because the more you understand why people respond (or don’t respond) to your stories, the better you will be able to craft a story that meets everyone’s needs.
Below is a simple formula I was taught 20 years ago, and knowing some of the brain science behind why a good story raises more money – this formula is still solid two decades later.
There is a need(cortisol) – DISTRESS! make sure your story is an experience demonstrating the need, one that shows the problem you are trying to fix. Tell it as an experience, something the brain can synchronize to – not a bunch of facts and stats.
This is why you, the donor, should care(oxytocin) – Empathy. Why should this person care about what you are telling them? Do you know who you are talking to and what problem they want to solve in the world? Focus on why they care, not what you are doing.
Please give (provide an easy way to give) because your gift will make a difference to…the problem they want to solve(dopamine) – Feelin’ So Good
Then, after the gift:
Thank them for their gift, Tell them they’ve made a difference solving…the problem they want to solve(dopamine). Tell this as an experiential story; you want their brain to synchronize with the story and feel like they were part of it. Remember, the brain can’t distinguish between real and story. Help your donors feel like they were there for the solution. “Thank you for your gift” has zero synchronization potential.
Here’s how your gift helped…the problem they want to solve (dopamine) You know this by now – but this must be a story that relates to why they cared to give. While you can use stats – please remember, they need to help make the emotional point of the story.
Storytelling is a powerful tool. As with anything of power, you must wield it wisely and go forth to do good with it.
“You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows that they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.”—Erin Morgenstern,
I was on the plane to Orlando, Florida. It was way too early in the morning and I had grabbed a coffee at the airport, but I was still under-caffeinated, tired and unmotivated. I was headed to The Nonprofit Storytelling Conference and I was looking forward to it, but I also had a lot on my mind. I had a file folder full of paper with me, the rough draft I had written for a guide on how to write a fundraising plan.
My intention for the six-hour flight from Seattle to Orlando was to edit the draft and develop instructions for the coding guy to take my spreadsheet templates and code them into interactive versions.
You know how sometimes you just can’t get the energy or interest together to do work? Instead of editing the draft, I opened the book I had ordered online and that had just arrived before my trip. I was excited about this book because I like to write fiction and I’m also a data nerd. I loved that it was focused on the science behind why stories capture us and why they don’t. Maybe this book, I thought, will help me get that damn novel written.
Then it happened.
What I knew, what I had worked on and built my expertise in; data driven strategies, goal setting, complex processes and systems for executing on a plan all crashed headlong into the power of story.
The next few days continued to completely destroy the guide I had painstakingly written– every page I read in Wired for Story by Lisa Cron, killed every last darling in the document (Thanks a lot Lady).
Flash forward a few days and I’m home – my mind full of ideas about completely reworking the guide and the templates to incorporate story.
Why? Because most people hate planning. I know this because of the resistance to it I get from clients who are actually paying me to help them plan and they still won’t do it! (Weird, right?)
And if, as Ms. Cron tells us in her book, we internalize stories, we learn from stories and we can influence through stories; then stories should be part of the planning process. Slam dunk. Drop the Mic.
Imagine if we can use the power of story to help our nonprofits set goals, manage projects and deliver on mission in a better way? It doesn’t hurt that stories can help us raise money too. Missions don’t get delivered on rainbows and the backs of unicorns – exceptional mission delivery requires investment (money) from donors. Those donors want the stories of how they are helping – and they want them told in a way that moves them.
On Saturdays, I will explore the power of story in nonprofit (fundraising, internal and external communications, marketing, finance, data analysis, program development and goal setting). In the meantime, I encourage you to pick up the book Wired for Story by Lisa Cron, available here.
While it’s not written for the nonprofit sector, read it with your nonprofit glasses on and see how it resonates with what you do and how you can use the science of the brain to do what you do a little better.
Welcome to Our Fundraising Plan blog!I’ll focus on storytelling (the secret sauce for nonprofits) and will provide as much background material as I can gather.
I’ll also post an ongoing series on writing plans. I’m starting with the tools to write and execute on a fundraising plan, but expect more on strategic planning, business planning and whatever other kind of planning you would like to see covered (let me know).
Thank you for making the world a better place,