April 1994
PhiMthropy Journal of North Carolina • 15
Food for thought
Food Bank turns surprises into opportunities
Clear communication can help
avoid unexpected problems in
planning a capital campaign.
This is the second article in a
series about tbe Food Bank of
North Carolina. The Journal is
observing capital campaign
meetings and has agreed not to
identify potential donors.
By Todd Cohen
Raleigh
it capital campaign can
/\ live or die because of
planning, but even the
/ \ best-laid plans can suf
fer from miscues. The secret is to
communicate within the campaign
organization as often and as clearly
as possible and — when possible —
to convert unexpected turns of
events into opportunities.
The Food Bank of North Carolina
is learning those lessons as it con
siders a capital campaign to pay for
new equipment and possibly a new
building.
Faced with the need to identify
individuals to lead the campaign and
make major contributions, officials of
the Raleigh nonprofit and its
fundraising consultant recently got
their signals crossed.
At a regular weekly session in
February, Food Bank officials talked
at some length with consultant Carol
Siebert of Raleigh-based Capital
Consortium Inc. about how to
approach two prominent community
lexers in the Triangle.
But Siebert and the Food Bank
officials came away with distinctly
different impressions of the objective
of an initial meeting the Food Bank
planned to have with the pair.
The breakdown in communica
tion became clear in a later conver
sation involving Siebert; Duane
Lawrence, president of the Food
Bank’s board of directors; and Greg
Kirkpatrick, the Food Bank’s execu
tive director.
During their regular monthly
campaign luncheon meeting in
March, Siebert was taken aback by
the fact that Lawrence and
Kirkpatrick had asked the two com
munity leaders to join the Food
Bank’s board of directors — an offer
they declined.
As Lawrence and Kirkpatrick told
Siebert about their visit, Lawrence
was surprised to learn that Siebert
believed they had done the wrong
thing.
“1 thou^t we had to be very clear
about what we wanted from them,
and not waste their time,” Lawrence
said.
Siebert said she had made clear
that the visit with the community
leaders was to be exploratory. She
was not surprised to learn that they
had said that, because of other com
mitments, they could not serve on the
Food Bank’s board.
Coiutship is a subtle process, and
takes time. Popping an important
question too soon — especially on a
first visit — can make someone feel
pressured.
But the discussion ended on a
positive note, when Kirkpatrick
explained that the community lead
ers had offered to serve on an adviso-
ly committee for the Food Bank.
Siebert seized on the silver lining
in the unexpected turn of events, and
suggested that the chance to enlist
the two community leaders could be
a mechanism to involve more people
in the Food Bank’s work.
That involvement, in turn, could
strengthen an eventual capital cam
paign.
Indeed, said Siebert, an advisory
committee could serve as a kind of
ongoing focus group for the Food
Bank and the capital campaign.
The incident with the two commu
nity leaders was one of only several
surprises in store for Siebert.
CAPITAL CAMI^IGN:
On Ihe Inside
Another arose during discussion
of plans the Food Bank and Capital
Consortium had for a benefit concert
by singer Mike Cross. The idea was
to invite prospective contributors to
the concert to begin to educate them
about the Food Bank.
While arrangements for Inviting
guests were being sorted out, Kirk
patrick mentioned an idea to change
the Food Bank’s name to better iden
tify it with Second Harvest, the
national network of food banks.
“This has been on the serious
back-burner for many years,” he
said.
Again, Siebert seemed caught
unawares.
“Mama needs to know every
thing,” she jokingly scolded her
lunchmates.
Siebert explained she has con
cerned that changing the organiza
tion’s name in the midst of a capital
campaign could confuse potential
contributors. ^
But Kirkpatrick argued that iden
tifying the Food Bank as part of the
Second Harvest network would have
munerous benefits.
First, Second Harvest has been
selected by the Ad Council as the
next subject of a pro-bono advertis
ing campaign the council produces
periodically. Previous Ad Council
campaigns — such as “Only you can
prevent forest fires,” and “A mind is
a terrible thing to waste” — have had
enormous impact.
Food banks that are members of
Second Harvest would be able to
piggy-back onto the national televi
sion spots produced by the Ad
Council.
“If it has that kind of impact,”
Kirkpatrick said, “this could be the
thing Second Harvest has been hop
ing for to push food banks into the
public consciousness.”
What’s more, he said. Second
Harvest was about to release a
national survey about hunger that
would document for the first time
who is himgry in America, and who
uses food banks and other emer
gency feeding programs. The study
— and Second Harvest — would
receive national publicity.
Siebert had some practical ques
tions. First off, she asked whether
there was a problem with the food
bank’s current name.
Kirkpatrick said there was.
“Food Bank of North Carolina,”
he said, has the connotation of being
either part of state government or an
umbrella organization for food banks
across the state. In fact, the organi
zation is tiying to focus its efforts on
the Triangle and the 34 counties it
serves in eastern and central North
Carolina.
Siebert still wanted to know if
Kirkpatrick could document the fact
that people have
a misconception
of the organiza
tion because of
its name. She
also wanted to
know whether
Kirkpatrick
would address
these issues in
the “ease state
ment” he was
preparing that
describes the
Food Bank and
its need for a
capital cam
paign.
“I think the
name change is
inevitable,” he
told her. “I think
it’s good. The
c
ourt-
ship IS a subtle
process, and
takes time.
Popping an
important
question too
soon can
make some
one feel
pressured.
question is, strategically, when do we
doit?”
Siebert replied: “Without data,
the best time mi^t be once you have
80 percent of yoim lead gifts and you
do a public announcement of the
campaign.”
IQrkpatrick agreed to include the
issue in the case statement.
At the end of the two-hour meet
ing, John Bennett, president of
Capital Consortium, joined the meet
ing, and the subject returned to the
issue of the visit Lawrence and
Kirkpatrick had paid the two Tri-
an^e community leaders.
“We could have told you in
advance they would have said ‘no,’
and you could have saved yourself
the ask,” Bennett said.
Lawrence said his biggest disap
pointment was that he and Kirk
patrick “were so clear about what we
thou^t we were supposed to do.”
As a solution to the numerous
communications problems that
cropped up during the meeting,
Siebert reminded iSrkpatrick that
she had encouraged him to prepare
weekly “action minutes” that note
briefly who is handling which assign
ments and who has spoken with
whom about campaign matters.
The result, she said, will be clear
er lines of communication and clear
er signals about who’s responsible
for what.
In retrospect, Kirkpatrick said
later, “the potential for miscommuni-
cation is so great that any objectives
related to meetings with important
community leaders should be written
down and agreed to by all the princi
pals involved.”
In fact, he said “if we had done
that, if any one of us had been asked
to write down the objective of that
meeting and the action part of it,
then whatever disagreements we had
would have surfaced and we would
have cleared them up before the
meeting.”
Dean
Continued from page 14
rate and foundation giving for Duke
University, as Kenan-Flagler’s asso
ciate dean tor external affairs.
“We had a 7 a.m. breakfast,”
Rierson says. “He impressed upon
me that he does not want to raise
more and more and more gobs of
money. He wants to raise the right
money, the money that will make a
difference.”
Fulton, says Rierson, “comes out
of a business background where you
think and manage strategically, and
he’s bringing that approach here,
and that’s why I’m here.”
The new fundraising campaign
will finance a new facility for the
school’s executive education pro
gram ; endowments for curriculum;
case development, which involves
faculty and students working with
companies and writing up complex
business decisions to use in class
room instruction; faculty support,
research and summer employment;
fellowships for master’s and doctoral
candidates, including minority stu
dents; an international scholars pro
gram; and new technology.
MAKING A DIFFERENCE
A hint of how Fulton will fare in
his new job can be glimpsed in his
past fundraising performance.
In the early 1980s, Winston-Salem
State raised ^ million in the largest
campaign the school ever had waged.
But by the late 1980s, the school had
developed a strategic plan that iden
tified needs totaling $55 million. Of
that amount, $25 million would have
to be raised privately, with the
remainder coming from state appro
priations and self-liquidating pro
jects, such as new dormitories, that
would be repaid with student fees.
The school hired Ketchum Inc.,
the giant fundraising consultant
based in Pittsburg, to conduct a fea
sibility study for a capital campaign.
Ketchum concluded that raising even
half the goal would be tough.
“We didn’t have a history of rais
ing a whole bunch of money,” says
Nat Irvin R, the school’s vice chancel
lor for development and university
relations. “So there was some reason
for skepticism.”
But Irvin says that Fidton, then a
trustee, believed the school was “an
underleveraged asset” that people
“just did not know enough about.”
Fulton agreed to be chairman of
the campaign and, Irvin says, “took
it upon himself to take the WSSU
story to a larger audience ...We’re
talking about white folks. It was an
audience in many respects that need
ed to be convinced.”
As the campaign’s national chair
man, Fulton instituted his hard-
charging, hands-on tactics. He held
weekly 6:30 a.m. meetings to review
prospects, assignments and pro
gress.
He kick-started the campaign
with the Initial gift of $2 million from
Sara Lee and set up a “partners pro
gram” in which area companies work
with Winston-Salem State students.
He also instituted a regular
schedule of one-hour visiting ses
sions for commimity leaders.
Fulton had hoped to get a
$100,000 gift from one of those lead
ers. In the end, he managed to pull in
an anonymous gift of $1 million —
^apital (Consortium, Jnc.
Fundraising Counsel, Research & Pubucations
2700 Wycliff Road • Suite 312 • Raleigh, NC 27607
(919) 783-9199 • FAX (919) 571-9937
the largest gift the school ever had
received from an individual.
“He worked himself and others
around him worked, too,” says
Thompson, the Winston-Salem State
chancellor. “He did not ask anyone to
do anything he was not prepared to
do himself.”
Fulton says his role as dean will
be to define his vision for the busi
ness school and help shape strate
gies to make that vision real. That
will require a lot of 6 a.m. breakfasts
and regular forays into the real
world. “The worst thing that could
happen to me,” he says, “would be to
be locked into this little business
school office.”
Planned Giving - Need Help?
Join the North Carolina Planned Giving Council
To learn more, visit our next meeting:
"PLANNED GIVING START-UP KIT"
Wednesday, May 18,1994
11 a.m. - 3 p.m.
Salem Academy and College
Winston-Salem, NC
Excellent program for development officers,
executive directors and board members!
$20 (includes lunch) for guests, $15 for members
Call Shelly Danyluk, V.P.
for information and reservations
1-800-332-7832
The Council is a nonprofit organization organized
to promote planned giving in North Carolina. Annual dues: $50