Class Is in Session: Four Schools of Fundraising

A stately brick school with glowing open doors welcomes a diverse group of adults carrying notebooks along a tree-lined path on a warm autumn afternoon, representing an invitation to examine the different schools of fundraising.

A Labor Day weekend edition from SWAN

This week, our usual Monday Matters post is taking a holiday. In its place, we are offering something a little longer for the long Labor Day weekend, something that can be read now, returned to later, and considered after the last picnic plate has been cleared away.

Schools are back in session, fall is approaching, and what many people consider the last real holiday weekend of summer is taking place as we speak. That combination led us to consider some very different schools: the schools of fundraising.

These are not formal academic theories, although anyone who has spent time around nonprofit fundraising will probably recognize them. They are collections of assumptions about why people give, what donors want, and what an organization must do to attract support. Most nonprofits attend more than one of these schools, and some seem to change schools every semester.

Each school understands something important about fundraising. Each also creates problems when an organization mistakes part of the truth for the whole truth.

The Save the Clock Tower School

Community members carrying tools and donation jars gather beneath a damaged historic clock tower as dark storm clouds approach, representing fundraising driven by urgency, preservation, and the fear of losing something valued.

The Save the Clock Tower School believes that people are most likely to give when something familiar, valuable, and irreplaceable is in immediate danger of being lost. The roof is failing. The theater may close. The annual concert could be canceled. A historic building needs repairs. A longstanding program will disappear unless the community acts now.

Its central belief is simple: People act when they understand what their community is about to lose. This school understands urgency. It gives donors a clear problem, a deadline, and a visible result. It can awaken community pride and remind people that the institutions, traditions, and programs they value will not continue without financial support. Someone who has not donated in years may respond quickly when continued existence is no longer guaranteed.

There is nothing inherently wrong with asking a community to save something worth preserving. Sometimes the clock tower really is in danger, and sometimes a rescue campaign is exactly what the moment requires. The trouble begins when crisis becomes the organization's fundraising philosophy.

If every campaign is an emergency, donors eventually become tired of being summoned to the rescue. They may also begin to wonder why the organization is always one roof repair, broken furnace, or disappointing season away from disaster. An organization that depends on crisis may postpone maintenance, avoid difficult decisions, and neglect the less dramatic work that could prevent the next emergency.

The Save the Clock Tower School can raise considerable money quickly. It rarely answers the harder question: What happens after the clock tower has been saved?

The Field of Dreams School

Rows of empty chairs face a newly built outdoor stage in a beautiful sunlit field, representing the belief that creating a worthwhile program will automatically attract audiences and financial support.

The Field of Dreams School believes that if an organization creates something worthwhile, people will naturally recognize its value and support it. The program is excellent. The performance is moving. The staff works hard. The cause matters. Surely the donors will come.

Its central belief is equally familiar: If we build it, they will come. This school begins with a valuable principle. Fundraising needs something worth supporting. Good marketing cannot permanently compensate for ineffective programs, poor service, or a mission that no longer meets a community need. Substance matters.

However, worthy work does not introduce itself. People cannot support programs they do not know exist, and knowing that a program exists is not the same as understanding why it matters. Even enthusiastic participants may not know what the program costs, why contributions are needed, or how to help.

Organizations in the Field of Dreams School often invest almost everything in programming and very little in communications or fundraising. Their leaders may feel uncomfortable asking directly for money. They may believe that quality should speak for itself, that word of mouth is a development strategy, or that fundraising somehow diminishes the mission.

Eventually, these organizations become frustrated. People attend the performance but do not donate. They compliment the program but do not become sponsors. The newsletter receives positive reactions but produces little revenue. Leaders conclude that the community does not care when, in many cases, the community was never clearly asked.

Building something meaningful is the beginning. An organization must also build the audience, relationships, communications, and fundraising systems that will sustain it.

The Rubber Chicken Dinner School

Formally dressed guests socialize around decorated banquet tables while servers deliver covered meals, representing fundraising built around galas, ticket sales, auctions, sponsorships, and special events.

The Rubber Chicken Dinner School believes that fundraising requires an event. There must be tickets, tables, centerpieces, silent-auction baskets, sponsorship levels, speeches, and a meal that was never going to survive two hours under a banquet lid.

Its central belief is: People will give if we give them somewhere to go and something to do. Events can be useful. They bring people together, introduce new supporters to an organization, provide public recognition, attract sponsors, and create shared experiences around a mission. A well-designed event can deepen relationships and leave guests with a stronger understanding of the work.

The problem is not the dinner. The problem is assuming the dinner automatically funds the mission.

Organizations often report an event's gross revenue without fully considering the cost of food, facilities, entertainment, printing, processing fees, complimentary tickets, staff time, and hundreds of volunteer hours. A dinner that brings in $30,000 may sound successful until someone calculates what it cost to produce and asks whether the same supporters would have contributed without requiring an elaborate evening in return.

The Rubber Chicken Dinner School can also make donor relationships transactional. Supporters learn that giving comes with a meal, an auction item, entertainment, or public recognition. The organization then feels pressure to make the event larger and more elaborate each year, even if the net proceeds remain flat.

An event should have a defined purpose. It may raise money, cultivate donors, build visibility, thank supporters, or strengthen community, but no single event will necessarily accomplish all of those things. “We have always held one” is not a fundraising strategy, and a full room does not automatically mean a healthy development program.

The Tiny Tim School

A smiling child using a wooden mobility aid stands with supportive adults in a snowy Victorian scene, representing fundraising that relies on emotional stories about vulnerable people while raising questions about dignity, agency, and how beneficiaries are portrayed.

The Tiny Tim School believes people give when they are emotionally moved by someone who appears vulnerable, deserving, grateful, and in urgent need of rescue. The fundraising story may center on a hungry child, a disabled person, a struggling student, a homeless family, an abandoned animal, or someone else whose hardship is expected to produce sympathy.

Its central belief is: Donors must see suffering before they will respond. Personal stories matter. Statistics can describe the size of a problem, but an individual story helps people understand what that problem means in a human life. Thoughtful storytelling can build empathy, show a program's value, and draw attention to needs a community might otherwise overlook.

The danger is that a person can be reduced to a diagnosis, poverty, trauma, or worst day. Their story may be edited to make donors comfortable. Their image may be used without meaningful consent. Their success may be presented as proof of the organization's virtue, while their voice, choices, and complicated humanity disappear.

This school can also divide people into those who appear deserving of help and those who do not. Beneficiaries may be expected to be cheerful, innocent, inspirational, and endlessly grateful. People who are angry, independent, complicated, or unwilling to perform gratitude can be treated as less worthy of support.

The answer is not to stop telling stories. It is to remember that the people in those stories are not fundraising materials. They are complete human beings who should retain dignity, agency, and a meaningful say in how their experiences are shared.

Which School Does Your Organization Attend?

Most organizations will recognize themselves in more than one of these descriptions. They may build wonderful programs and wait for donors to discover them, then hold a rubber chicken dinner when the money does not appear. When revenue falls short, they may announce that the clock tower is in danger and illustrate the appeal with a Tiny Tim story.

That does not make the organization manipulative or incompetent. It means its fundraising practices have developed from familiar habits and assumptions that may never have been examined together.

Each school offers a useful lesson. Explain what is at risk without manufacturing a crisis. Build work worth supporting without expecting it to sell itself. Bring people together without mistaking activity for revenue. Tell human stories without taking away anyone's dignity.

Fundraising is not rescue theater, event planning, wishful thinking, or the search for the saddest available story. It is the practical work of helping people understand what an organization does, why it matters, what it costs, and how they can help sustain it.

Over this long holiday weekend, we hope nonprofit staff members, volunteers, board members, donors, and community partners will give these schools some thought. Which one does your organization attend most often? Which lessons have served you well? Which habits have caused trouble? Have you encountered another fundraising approach that belongs on the list?

We would like to hear your experiences. Fundraising is difficult enough without pretending every familiar practice is automatically good, and nonprofits can learn a great deal by comparing what has worked, what has failed, and what they would do differently next time. Class is in session, and the conversation is open.

That being said, there may be good reasons to walk through the doors of any one of these schools. An urgent campaign may be necessary. A strong program deserves an audience. An event may bring a community together. A personal story may help people understand why the work matters. If you enter with good reason and a clear plan, the lessons from each school can strengthen your fundraising rather than control it. Here are some resources to help you navigate the halls.

Additional Resources

For the Save the Clock Tower School

For the Field of Dreams School

  • Fundraising from the National Council of Nonprofits collects practical guidance on fundraising plans, donor management, measurement, online learning, and year-round engagement.

  • Three Donor Engagement Strategies for Small Teams from Candid offers manageable ways for small organizations to create an engagement calendar, use technology, and maintain donor relationships.

  • The Board's Role in Fundraising from BoardSource explains why board participation includes cultivation, stewardship, introductions, and advocacy, not only asking people for money.

  • The Fundraising Effectiveness Project from the Association of Fundraising Professionals provides free data and measurement tools that can help organizations evaluate whether their fundraising efforts are producing sustainable growth.

For the Rubber Chicken Dinner School

For the Tiny Tim School

  • Storytelling for Donors: A Practical Guide for Fundraising from the Association of Fundraising Professionals discusses trauma-informed storytelling, personal agency, and the importance of never positioning the donor as the hero who rescues the person in the story.

  • Ethical Fundraising from the National Council of Nonprofits provides broader guidance on honesty, accountability, donor expectations, and responsible fundraising practices.

  • The Donor Bill of Rights from the Association of Fundraising Professionals establishes basic expectations concerning accurate information, responsible use of gifts, transparency, acknowledgment, and respect for donors.

These resources do not eliminate the need for judgment. They can, however, help an organization ask better questions before it launches a rescue campaign, assumes a good program will promote itself, orders the chicken, or tells someone else's story.

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