We’re Gathering With Too Much Certainty
We had people experiencing houselessness and people who had given or helped raise over $5 million to the campaign, and for that moment we couldn’t tell who was who.
That’s the point.
There is a time and a place for certainty. Rituals, ceremonies, habits, things that require you to go back over and over again so you can receive the benefit from them.
But when it comes to certain gatherings, too much certainty can stall things. It can make them stale.
I’m going to talk about the nonprofit world specifically, but this applies to most settings.
I’ve been to many galas. I’ve talked with donors, worked with donors, asked money from donors.
And a few of them have just shared with me, yeah, galas are fun. I know what I get when I go to one.
You walk through the door. People are really nice to you. Everyone shares the same vision, or at least some of the same values. There’s probably going to be nice food. Maybe one or two fun activities. And then you’re expected to give money and go home.
The container has been used over and over again for good reason. For a long time it’s worked and it’s probably going to work for ages to come.
But it’s a bit of a bummer when the people organizing aren’t leaving room for experiences that allow the staff, the team, the donors, the board members to take off their normal roles and experience something new and fresh together.
When I was the Capital Campaign Director at Street Roots, we had reached a point where a significant amount of money had been raised and we wanted to have a ceremony for the groundbreaking.
Typically that gathering already has a set script that is pretty much masculine energy dominated. You picture a ribbon, a hardhat, a shovel, a pair of scissors, breaking ground.
But we weren’t having that.
So instead we had a processional.
We took a group of 40 to 50 donors and supporters, and instead of making it about the usual script, we made it about creating an experience they would never forget.
We went down the street rolling a piano.
You couldn’t tell who the movers and shakers were versus the constituents. You couldn’t tell who had given the substantial resources and who hadn’t.
Philanthropists. Houseless community members. All of us just rolling a piano down the street together.
It was equalized across the board. And that’s what made it special.
The feedback from the donors was humbling. It made me realize that they too can get fatigued going through the same exact routines over and over again.
They still believe in the mission. They still want to help and contribute. But they can also just be tired of going through the same motions.
And here’s the thing. The event wasn’t fully planned out. We hadn’t actually practiced rolling the piano before.
But the moment itself was bigger than us.
Relationships were being built that hadn’t happened before. And afterwards it was like this collective prosperity came forth. New partnerships formed. New people got connected to new funding opportunities. Donors drilled deeper.
That comes from not being so certain.
And if you’ve read my piece on how too much masculine energy shapes the way we gather, this is the same thing showing up in a different outfit.
Certainty is one of the signatures of dominant masculine energy in a room. When we over-rely on it we crowd out the mystery, the connection, the moments that actually make us feel something.
So where does the work need to go?
It’s not about destroying what you have. You can still show up for the gala. You can still do some of those things.
But the work is letting go of the parts of your gatherings that feel a little outdated and filling that space with experience.
An experience where you don’t know all the answers. Where you, your donors, the people who really believe in the mission can create space for something new together.
That’s where the magic is. We just keep planning over it.