Final observations on Europe before we get back to unicorns and wombats

Hi everyone, sorry for the lateness of this post. I was traveling back from Berlin. It is good to be back in Seattle, though I am jetlagged and look kind of like someone just punched me in both eyes. Today I realized I have lost 5 pounds, which gives me a great idea: The Vegan Balkans Diet! Basically, just become a vegan, then go to the Balkans.

Since I’m jetlagged and trying not to fall asleep until at least 9pm, I don’t know how coherent this post is going to be. Berlin, Germany was really great, except that people were kind of rude, saying things like “You do not have an account at this bank? Then no, you may not withdrawal money here” and “Stop! You can’t just try to break off a piece of the Berlin Wall at this museum!”

We arrived just as news broke about the NSA listening to Angela Merkel’s cell phone. Reactions to us Americans were mixed, leaning negative. “I was a fan of Obama,” said one taxi driver, “but not anymore.”

Overall, this Fellowship has been amazing and exhausting. There is a lot of information to process for months to come. Before I leave writing about Europe, and get back to talking about unicorns and wombats next week, I want to capture a few last thoughts and observations:

• Politicians in Copenhagen are efficient, collegial, and seem to get along even when they disagree on policies. That’s right, politicians can disagree on policies and still grab a beer together! This is so not true in the US for the most part, where a simple disagreement on something can lead to fist-fights at the farmer’s market and a burning hatred for two decades.
• That being said, the smorrbrod, or open-faced sandwich, is one of the most inefficient ways of eating anything. One piece of very dry rye bread, pile all the toppings on, and then try to eat it with a knife and fork. Plus, it is expensive as hell living in Copenhagen. I saw a Twix that was 7 dollars. No wonder the nonprofit structure is underdeveloped there. Nonprofit staff would not be able to afford the time or money to live in Denmark. We don’t have three hours to eat a $26 smorrbrod.
• Religion is important in Europe, but it is considered a private matter and it is highly distasteful for politicians to use it as a tool for election. They find it bizarre when our presidential candidates talk about their religious beliefs, and even worse, when inaugurations and other formal occasions include prayers and blessings. “Religion here is like a penis,” said one of the politicians that I met, “it’s OK for you to have one. But don’t wave it around people’s faces.”
• Gender dynamics varies from country to country. In Denmark, men and women are pretty much equal, with the top three highest posts in Copenhagen politics all held by women. In other places, it is different. In Lisbon, Portugal, for example, the waiters served all the women first. I found this the hard way when the waiter skipped over me when serving dinner rolls, which was very annoying, since I am vegan, and dinner rolls with some olive oil were all I could eat!
• Immigrants all have a hard time in the various countries we visited, except maybe Portugal. Discrimination has been more subtle (“So, do you drink?” to find out if you’re  Muslim during a job interview).
• The Roma community seems to be having the most challenges in almost all countries, and it is heartbreaking the few times I saw women and small children sleeping on the grass or cement. Some countries have strong welfare systems, but if you don’t have the right papers, you’re pretty much screwed, and also because of the strong welfare system the general public is often complacent to help.
• Immigrant girls seem to be doing best in school, sometimes even out-performing the local kids. They are leaving the boys behind, which often creates resentment, and then they don’t want to marry the underperforming men from their culture, creating other problematic dynamics within the community.
• The Balkans’ traditional alcohol, called Rakia, aka “Balkan moonshine,” is not for the weak of stomach. It is made by fermenting fruit and, I believe, turpentine. It is a great digestive, and, when necessary, lamp fuel.
• According to most “normal” people we met, the EU is incredibly boring, just 700+ Eurocrats who hand down obscure legislations to the rest of Europe. National media are loath to cover EU stuff because it is so boring. When I left, they were considering my suggestion of fabricating a good scandal to increase public interest.
• Belgian chocolates are pretty good, but quality varies. Some of it is way too sweet. I daresay that our artisanal chocolates in Seattle can compete on the same level with some of these European chocolate makers.
• Europeans are continually amazed and inspired by how open Americans are. We’ll invite just about anyone to our Thanksgiving dinner. In Europe it is harder, and you might have to know someone for twenty years and maybe marry them before they’ll show you where they live.
• The Danish concept of “hyggeligt” (pronounced something like “hoogly”) is very prevalent. It means something like “cozy, with a sense of intimacy and contentment” like “this dinner party is so hyggeligt.” It’s great, though they didn’t understand my “yo mama so hyggeligt” jokes, e.g. “Yo mama place so hyggeligt, it smells like fresh-baked blueberry muffins.”
• Serbians have a great and biting sense of humor. On a plane there I read an article that ends with something like, “I hope you, dear reader, will tell people about this interview that you just read. Mainly for your sake, since it means that your plane hasn’t crashed.”

And I’m very happy that the plane didn’t crash. I’m glad to be back. I missed my family. I even missed my staff and only yelled at them a little bit for forgetting to water the office plants. I am ready to get back to life and to my projects here, including working on 501c3 The Musical, which will now be kicked into full gear, once I catch up on The Walking Dead.

An Executive Director’s Self-Evaluation

Hi everyone. For the first time in my eight years with the organization, my board has decided to conduct a performance review. These are two words that send chills up and down every Executive Director’s spine, on par with “budget deficit” and “annual event.” The board had a clandestine meeting three weeks ago to talk about my performance as an ED. Soon they will meet with me to deliver feedback.

I’m nervous. I just know they’re going to say something like, “Vu, you’ve developed a reputation as a drunkard and a loudmouth. That’s affecting VFA’s image. We need you to stop mixing drinks at work. Also, funders are saying you’ve been dressing up as Oliver Twist during site visits and literally begging for money.”

As part of the ED review, the board asked me to fill out a self-evaluation. This is a very important part of this process. Never do a performance evaluation without asking the evaluee to self-evaluate. Mainly because it’s very hard to remember all the stuff they did. More importantly, though, the distance between one’s perception of oneself and others’ perception of one may be significant, and highlighting and discussing any significant differences in perception is helpful to fostering personal and professional growth and/or bitterness.

The evaluation form is three pages long, and at the end, it asks for a summary of three key strengths and three key areas of improvement. I am listing them here, with the hope that it will inspire EDs and staff of other organizations to self-reflect. Only when we stop to take a break and reflect on our strengths and weaknesses will we improve and/or grow resentful:

My strengths this past year:

Strength 1: Empowering staff to make decisions and take ownership. This involves coaching skills, such as asking strategic questions to encourage staff to self-problem-solve instead of solving problems for them. For example:

Staff: One of the tutors in our program is constantly late and has a bad attitude. What should I do?

Me: Well, what do you think you should do?

Staff: I was thinking of having a one-on-one with her to get her perspective. What do you think?

Me: I could tell you, but first, what do you think I should think?

Strength 2: Fostering a culture of strong teamwork. This involves encouraging staff to collaborate on projects, support one another, and mutually resolve problem:

Staff 1: Vu, tell Staff 2 she needs to be in VFA’s monthly video update

Me: Please be in the video update, Staff 2.

Staff 2: I don’t want to be videotaped!

Me: She doesn’t want to be videotaped.

Staff 1: Vuuuuuuu!!

Me: You two figure it out! This custom-framed unicorn poster is not going to Velcro-tape itself up on the office wall!

Strength 3: Conserving VFA resources in order to focus the team on our mission and not get distracted.

Potential partner: Hello Mr. Le, we are conducting a community-wide research effort to improve community safety, and we need to start by gathering input from communities of color. Can VFA help us by organizing—

Me: A focus group of some of our clients?

Potential partner: Yes, exactly!

Me: How much are you providing in funding?

Potential partner: Fun…ding…?

Me: (Click)

My areas for improvement:

Area 1: Not letting personal pet peeves, such as when people use “literally” wrong, negatively affect the organization:

Potential donor: Hi, I visited your amazing after-school program, and I want to make a donation to VFA.

Me: Aw, thank you! That’s so thoughtful.

Potential donor: My pleasure. You guys are literally building bridges between different cultures

Me: We don’t want your money.

Area 2: Being more open and receptive to constructive feedback:

Colleague: My table overall had a good time at your dinner, but there were just way too many speeches. They dragged the evening down and sapped the energy out of the room:

Me: Your FACE sapped the energy out of the room.

Colleague: Also, you may want to spend more funds on the audio-visual stuff, since the sound was rough and muffled.

Me: Your FACE is rough and muffled.

Colleague: And you should put up more signs so guests know where to go. There weren’t enough signs.

Me: Your FACE is not enough signs.

Area 3: Improving on time management, keeping better track of outcomes, setting and meeting goals more often, being more effective at fundraising, spending more time cultivating donors, providing more professional development for staff, better engagement of the board, less watching of Portlandia during work hours, improving the financial management system and delivering reports on time for board meetings, increasing frequency of communication with the community, and coming to work with hangovers less often.

Well, there you go, that’s the most honest self-assessment I’ve done in a long time. I hope the board is satisfied. I’ll work on those and whatever other reasonable things they bring up, but I have my principles and there are certain things I am not going to compromise on. For instance, I am not going stop our “casual weekdays” dress code, and I’m not going to disband the Nonprofit Fight Club that I started with some other EDs.

The Sustainability Question, Why it is So Annoying

This morning, I woke up early and realized I was face-to-face with my son, Viet, who has been sleeping in the same bed with his mom and me. Looking at our sweet little baby, who was still sleeping peacefully, one tiny hand under his soft and rosy cheek, I was filled with warm fatherly thoughts. Namely: “When is this kid going to get a job and help pay for his keep?” I was tempted to wake him up and say, “You do realize that childcare for you each month is literally more than our mortgage, right? You better enjoy this while you can, little dude, because when you turn 18, you’re on your own.”

And that makes me think about the issue of sustainability of nonprofit programs. In every grant application, there is the “Sustainability Question,” which is basically, “How will you sustain this program or project when funding from the So-and-So Foundation runs out?” This seems absolutely reasonable at first glance, but honestly, it’s one of the most annoying questions we face. Most of us nonprofit professionals absolutely hate this question, and each time we see it, we have to leave our desk, go on a walk, maybe do some yoga or watch “The Daily Show,” then come back to our desk, take a deep breath, and write something  like:

“We will continue to develop our staff and board’s ability to fundraise and diversify our revenues, including building relationship with other funders, as well as cultivating support from corporate sponsors and individual donors. Our special events continue to increase in revenues, and the board is leading the effort to explore earned income through program fees and the door-to-door sales of inspiring macaroni artwork made by the children in our extended-learning program.”

All of that is basically a euphemism for “We will leave you alone and bother other people.”

“Just once,” said my ED friend, Director Maureen, “here’s what I’d like to put in response to that question:”

• Program staff and the board will triple the amount of time they spend praying for money
• Program participants will be asked to pray for money to provide for their services as well
• 10% of general operating funds will be utilized to purchase Power Ball lottery tickets
• Fund development staff will regularly consult a reputable psychic to help track which direction foundations are trending to support

Why is this question so aggravating? Why does every time I answer it, I feel like crap? I sent out an email to my ED friends in the field, asking for their thoughts, and the responses were passionate and insightful. While the issue is complex and requires a lot more time to explore, I’ll try my best to summarize my colleagues’ thoughts. Overall, the Sustainability Question is annoying and frustrating because:

Sustainability is in large part determined by funders, not nonprofits. As much as we love individual donors, many of us still rely on grants, and grants are usually small and one-year in duration. We get a bunch of one-year grants that are Frankensteined together to support programs, each one with their own set of demands and restrictions, (which I explored here in “Nonprofit Funding: Ordering a Cake and Restricting it Too.”). As one ED puts it, “Why is fidelity to the mission so highly valued and expected of nonprofit leaders and staff but funders expect to ‘sleep around?‘ One year and you’re out. [They] don’t even come back and ask.” This lumbering, unwieldy, tenuous system is the antithesis of sustainability, so to be asked how we will maintain and grow our programs within it is kind of like setting a fire and asking how we will be putting it out.

Sustainability depends on the whole organization being strong, yet funders do not like providing general operating funds. Really great programs do not magically appear out of thin air. It takes real people, people who need, like, an office to work at and healthcare for their stress and carpal tunnel and stuff. These things are critical, and yet we have to constantly fight for them. “We will cultivate relationships with individual donors and corporate sponsors, etc.” sounds great, but that requires development staff, which is fundraising, and no one likes to fund “fundraising” and “admin” expenses, because those things are so frivolous and useless.

The nonprofit model is unique in that success at carrying out our missions leads to increasing costs, not revenues. The more successful programs are, the more clients they will serve, the more staff and other expenses will increase, without a proportionate increase in support. An example is VFA’s Saturday English School (SES) program, which provides English and Math support to recent-arrival immigrant and refugee students every Saturday for three hours. Five years ago, we had 30 students show up each session. Because of how awesome the program is, we now have over 150 students each session. This is a five-fold increase in number of students served. The expenses tripled, since more students means more snacks, more teaching staff, more curriculum material, etc. But funders are not going to triple the amount they provide; if we’re lucky, they’ll renew at the same level, and we’ll have to go search for other, newer funders to provide support. This is the Program Growth Paradox, where the more a program is successful and expands, the less sustainable it is.

Other reasons cited by my ED colleagues include “we know very, very well that not every program that literally changes people’s lives for the better can become self-sustaining” (but should be funded anyway, see “Nonprofit’s Ultimate Outcome: Bringing Unicorns Back to Our World“), “I have no clue where my future funds will come from so everything I say sounds like BS” and “after five or more friggin pages of explaining just HOW MUCH you need the bucks, you are now invited to totally reverse yourself” and “I will think about this and get back to you after I have several drinks to calm down.”

Credit: James Hong, VFA’s Director of Operations

The most serious challenge with the Sustainability Question, however, is that it symptomatic of a divisive and patronizing system that perpetuates the unhealthy dichotomy of nonprofits as supplicants continually begging for spare change, and funders as benefactors. “How will YOU sustain this program? How will YOU sustain it after OUR funding that WE (might) give YOU runs out?” We now feel like the underemployed college-grad living in our parents’ basement, freeloading off of their good will, until they call us in for a serious talk about our future and demand to know what our plans are to find a job and inform us that it’s for our own good that in six months they will kick us out. We feel like Oliver Twist, who has to beg for another bowl of gruel from the…uh…that one guy, who serves…gruel…

OK, I haven’t read Oliver Twist.

The Sustainability Question is aggravating because the responsibility is overtly placed on nonprofits’ shoulders to fix problems in the world that we didn’t cause in the first place. Once the question is asked, “It immediately becomes somebody else’s problem,” writes one of my ED friends.  It feels like funders are at the end of their ropes trying to “help” us nonprofits and if we fail to sustain our work, it is all our fault. This is not working for our field.

Every once in a while I meet a program officer who used to be a nonprofit staff. “Ah,” they sometimes reminisce, “I miss being on that side of the table.” And I would say, “Tell me what it’s like on your side of the table?” And we would talk, and I would learn that being on the other side of the table has its challenges, and that it’s not all completely awesome, with ergonomic chairs and dental AND vision insurance and with each person getting access to the company unicorn to ride to important meetings.

But that makes me think, Why the heck are we on opposite sides of the table in the first place? Aren’t we all trying to solve the same problems? Why is the relationship between funders and nonprofits so adversarial? It is ineffective. We should be on the same team, where the quarterback supports the…uh, linebacker so that he can make a, um, rim shot at the…fourth inning…

All right, I don’t know anything about sports. Point is, nonprofits and funders must be equal partners, with different but symbiotic roles, and sustainability of the work must be shouldered by both parties. We nonprofits think all the time about sustainability, even without being prompted, and we will continue to build strong programs and diversify our funding. Funders, as equal partners, should provide multi-year funds, general operating funds, capacity building assistance, and help connect us to other funders and partners. And come visit the programs once a while! We must work together to figure out how to sustain and advance the work. We have to, because the needs of and challenges facing our communities are only going to increase.

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More on funder-fundee relationships: The Wall of Philanthropy, Wildlings, and White Walkers

Work styles: Are you a Dragon, Unicorn, Phoenix, or Lion-Turtle

Hey everyone, I just created a Nonprofit with Balls Facebook page. It has 42 “likes” now! Is that a lot? I don’t know. I’m new to Facebook. Seriously, I’ve been on Facebook maybe three times in the past decade. I’m trying to learn to use it, so that I can better promote important ideas like how people should schedule meetings so that we don’t have the urge to punch them in the pancreas. Please go to the Facebook page, “like it,” and tell your friends about it.

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Most of us in the field have done various “behavioral styles” activities.  With so much of our work being relationship-based, it is important for us to understand one another. This will lessen our chances of strangling our coworkers or boss or board members or even some funders or clients.

There are dozens of categorization systems, some using color, directions, or adjectives such as amiables, expressives, drivers, analyticals; or controllers, stabilizers, persuaders, analyzers, etc. Whatever the system, everyone tends to agree that there are four different behavior styles.

It is always good for us to get regular refreshers on what those four styles are. But colors and directions and adjectives are so boring. Here, I’ve relabeled the styles after bad-ass mythical creatures, each awesome (and also sometimes sucky) in their own ways. Find out which style you and the people around you are, and then try to get along with everyone.

How do I know which bad-ass mythical creature I am?

The best way is for you to show this blog post to three or more people, ask them to read it, and then tell you which of these styles most closely describes you. That’s because what we think we are may be completely different from how others perceive us; for instance, I used to think I was an amazing beat-boxer, but based on feedback I was really more like a dying weasel with a spittle problem…

If you’re too lazy to ask three people, just take this one-question quiz below.

When you read the title of this blog post, what was your first thought?

1. Whoo hoo, Dragons, Unicorns, Phoenixes, Turtle-Lions! Sounds like a drinking game!
2. This is stupid. I don’t have time to read blog posts about work styles. I have stuff to do.
3. Hm, this article sounds silly, but I should read it to determine if it has any validity.
4. Aw, someone took time to write this blog post. I should read it because they spent so much time working on it.

If your answer is 1, you’re a Phoenix; 2, you’re a Dragon; 3, you’re a Lion-Turtle; 4, you’re a Unicorn.

Dragon

(Red, North, Fire, Controller, Director, Driver, Dominance, Decisive)

“When is this meeting over so we can do stuff?”

Why Dragons are awesome: Dragons are decisive and like to get stuff done. They hate long meetings, and they’d usually rather juggle live cobras than have to do a wishy-washy ice breaker. Dragons will drive teams to take actions and to be expedient. They wish you would stop reading stupid blog posts like this and do something, like your job.

Why Dragons sometimes suck: They can be brusque and impatient. In their drive for action and efficiency, they can make mistakes. And they can run over people. Then they might roll their eyes when the people they run over want to talk about their feelings. Feelings are for losers, according to Dragons, because while people are all experiencing emotions and crap, stuff is not getting done.

How to best work with a Dragon: Get to the point quickly. Be action-oriented. Don’t make them share their feelings. Just do your job.

Dragons will have most conflict with: Unicorns. They find Unicorns to be indecisive, emotionally weak, easily manipulated, and their focus on harmony and snuggling an annoying waste of time.

Phoenix

(Yellow, West, Air, Persuader, Socializer, Expressive, Influencer, Interactive, )

“Let’s go to Happy Hour after this meeting!” 

Why Phoenixes are awesome: Phoenixes seem to have unlimited energy. They bring fun wherever they go. They are creative and spontaneous. Phoenixes are great at building relationships, since they are charismatic, great talkers, and excellent at convincing people to do stuff, such as get everyone to go out for drinks after work. When they get excited about stuff, they are quick to get it done.

Why Phoenixes sometimes suck: They can be unfocused and fail to follow up on things that are not fun, which, unfortunately is about 85% of work. They are not good at details and get bored easily. They can be distracted and distracting, and sometimes they burst into songs, which, depending on the timing and frequency, can be either endearing, or make you want to throw a stapler at them.

How to best work with a Phoenix: Get to know them on a personal level, and let them get to know you. Participate in the stuff they suggest, praise them, and go out for drinks with them. (Hint: Phoenixes like to buy people drinks)

Phoenixes will have most conflict with: Lion-Turtles. They find Lion-Turtles to be way too serious, stuck-up, and boring as hell.

Lion-Turtle

(Blue, East, Earth, Analyzer, Thinker, Analytical, Conscientious, Cautious)

“I’ve prepared handouts for everyone for this meeting.”

Why Lion-Turtles are awesome: The Lion-Turtle is this giant creature that has the head of a lion and the body of a turtle and is totally cool. Lion-Turtles are diligent, careful, logical, and accurate. They take time to do their work, so it is usually high quality. They are detailed oriented, often picking up stuff that other people miss. They bring grounding and balance to any team, encouraging everyone pay attention to boring technical crap like objectives and timelines and data.

Why Lion-Turtles sometimes suck: They require a lot of time to think and plan, which can be annoying. Also, they keep wanting more and more data, and keep asking questions all the time, like “what’s the budget for this?” and “what was the process for coming up with this budget?” which can be infuriating. Sometimes they seem boring, since they often like to keep work life and personal life separate, meaning they might seem stand-offish when everyone goes out for drinks and they don’t.

How to best work with Lion-Turtles: Be specific, thorough, and demonstrate that you have thought thoroughly about stuff after doing research. Be consistent and predictable and don’t seem too impulsive.

Lion-Turtles will have most conflict with: Phoenixes. They find the Phoenixes to be silly, narcissistic, drunkards, and time wasters.

Unicorn

(Green, South, Water, Stabilizer, Relater, Amiable, Steady, Stabilizing)

“Let’s make ‘snuggling’ the first item on the agenda.”

Why Unicorns are awesome: Unicorns are considerate, thoughtful, and good at listening. They like harmony and use their unicorn powers to help people get along. Unicorns will always be on the lookout to make sure everyone is comfortable and no one feels left out. They are good at mediating conflicts and getting people to hold hands and snuggle and crap like that.

Why Unicorns sometimes suck:  Unicorns are always searching for consensus, so they can be indecisive, needing to check in with everyone. They can be conforming, insecure, and wishy-washy. Wanting to avoid conflict, sometimes they bottle up their feelings, absorbing the stress until it reaches a breaking point, and then they explode, getting messy unicorn bits all over the place.

How to best work with a Unicorn: Do what you say you’re going to do, be kind and considerate to everyone, tell them you appreciate them.

Unicorns will have most conflict with: Dragons. They find Dragons to be insensitive and thoughtless clods who don’t give a crap about others.

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I hope that was helpful. Remember, no one mythical creature is better than any other. A good team will have at least one of each of the styles. And also, keep in mind that while we each have one dominant style, we can (and should) learn other styles and transform into different mythical creatures as situations demand. If we can all learn each other’s styles and learn to work with one another, maybe, just maybe, we will survive planning the next annual fundraising event.

Nonprofit’s ultimate outcome: Bringing unicorns back to our world

The concept of “outcomes” has been well-beaten into all of us nonprofit folks. So much so, in fact, that I start to apply this concept to all sorts of non-work stuff. For example, watching Game of Thrones. Outcomes: reduced stress, increased knowledge of pop culture and thus increased social status.

Outcomes and metrics are great and necessary, but I am wondering if we are starting to take them too far. Every once in a while, we in the field do the infamous “so that” exercise. We start with an activity, let’s say tutoring kids, and we think about the effects: We tutor kids so that they can get better grades in school…so that they can move up a grade…so that they can graduate from high school…so that they can get into college…so that they can graduate from college…so that they can get a good job. Therefore, tutoring kids helps them get a good job. Sweet!

But at what point in the “so that” chain is it OK to stop and say, that’s a good outcome to fund? At what point does it become ridiculous? In recent years, it feels like we nonprofits have been pushed to expand this chain, because the further up the chain we go, the stronger and more compelling the outcomes seem to be, and the easier it is for funders and donors to rationalize funding programs. But sometimes it makes no sense. Because of the funding dynamics, we often have wacky conversations like this:

Funder (on a program visit): So how many hot meals does XYZ Organization serve each week?

ED: In a typical week, we provide about 900 meals to low-income seniors

Funder: That’s wonderful. What are the outcomes of your program?

ED: Well…uh…the seniors come in hungry, and they leave full

Funder: Yeah, but what does that do in terms of impact? Can you elaborate?

ED (remembering the “so that” exercise): Oh, yes, of course. When low-income seniors have access to nutritious food, their health improves, which means they function better. Healthy, well-functioning seniors lead to stronger communities. It also reduces accidents, which every year cost the state millions of dollars in emergency services.

Funder: Excellent! What evaluation instruments do you—

ED: But that’s not all! Those millions of dollars that would have been wasted on emergency services can now be invested in education, infrastructure, and economic development. Those investments will lead to a stronger state, which leads to a stronger United States, which will allow us to be better guardians of the globe, which may lead to world peace. And world peace means that the unicorns may return. The ultimate outcome of our hot-meal program is for the self-exiled unicorns to return to our world!

All right, that last part is something that we might think when in this situation, but would never say out loud to funders or donors, who wield the power of life and death over programs. We learn to say the right words because we know how vital these services are, but on the inside, we’re screaming “People not being hungry is a great outcome already! Gawwwwwww!!”

A couple of years ago, I helped start the World Dance Party, which is just a giant multi-cultural/multi-generational potluck party where people learn eight different dances in mini 20-minutes lessons, and everyone dances. That’s it. No lectures, no fundraising. It is free and attracts 200 to 400 people of all ages and backgrounds. The outcomes of WDP include getting neighbors to get to know one another and to feel connected to their community. I sometimes get blank stares when I tell people this, though, as if they’re expecting something sexier, like that these World Dance Parties, through getting neighbors to know one another better, reduce gun violence by 25%.

Funders’ push for “more compelling outcomes” goes too far sometimes, forcing us nonprofits to claim to be responsible for outcomes that make no sense for our programs. After-school arts or sports programs, for example, should not have to be directly responsible for and judged on increasing graduation rates, or getting kids into college. They increase kids’ confidence and love of learning and teamwork and a host of other skills. Those are absolutely wonderful outcomes by themselves and should be funded.

If we think about it, everything we do in this field has one ultimate goal: to increase happiness. All of us are happier when everyone’s basic needs are met, when we all live in safe and strong and supportive communities, when we all continue to learn and grow and reach our potential and contribute back.

But increasing society’s happiness is too fluffy an outcome, so we usually stop the “so that” chain at things like reducing crimes and saving taxpayers millions. The insidious effect of this sort of thinking is that we lessen the intrinsic values of human lives. Sheltering our homeless so that they are not battered by the elements for even a single night, that is itself intrinsically worth doing, because we don’t want our fellow community members to suffer. Building confidence and creativity in kids through teaching them photography or beat-boxing or poetry, that is itself intrinsically worth doing, because all kids should have opportunities to grow and explore their world. Having fun World Dance Parties so that people can feel connected to their neighbors and to their community, that is itself intrinsically worth doing because everyone deserves to feel a sense of belonging.

Sure, the above activities and other stuff we do in the field will lessen crimes, save society money, etc., but those effects should be considered awesome bonuses. They should not be the main reason why we do the things we do. We should do our work with the belief that every individual life has an intrinsic value independent of its value to society.

Only when we all truly believe that, will the unicorns come back to our world.

Nonprofit office space: We deserve better!

For the past several weeks, VFA has been packing all our stuff and doing other things to move to our new office location. This year, it dawned on me how important work space is. I mean, seriously, we spend like 50% of our time at the office. (In fact, VFA has a fold-out cot, blanket, and pillow that staff could use if they ever need to spend the night in order to get work done.) Like any other nonprofit, we focus on helping people and not getting sued, so we forget just how important physical work space can be, which has led to all sorts of issues and staff complaints like “we don’t get any sunlight” and “these 4×4 cubicles are too small” and “I can’t afford a tetanus shot.” During the winter: “It’s so cold in here, one of the interns is stuck to the metal filing cabinets again,” etc.

Usually, like with other staff complaints, I just ignore it. However, one day I brought my baby son into the office, and suddenly, as a father, I saw things differently. We had no windows, no natural light. It was depressing. Everything was grey: the walls, carpet, cubicles, staff skin complexion, everything. An orchid someone gave us stood sadly wilted in the corner under a flickering florescent light, begging for water or a merciful death. Lingering in the air was the smell of despair, dry-erase markers, and ramen. In the background was the barely audible, high-pitched drilling sound from the dentist’s office next door. And I thought, “This is no place for a baby to be. Ipso facto, it is no place for an adult to be.  Tabula rasa, we need to move. E pluribus unum, I need to polish up on my Latin phrases.”

We nonprofits are trained to be scrappy (here’s a post I wrote on our hoarding tendencies), due to ridiculous and damaging ideas, the main one being “overhead,” whose willful perpetuators have thankfully renounced. Sure, there are dumb nonprofits that spend way too much on office space (and swag items). But most of us are at the other end of the spectrum, working in tight cramped quarters and basements, sitting on a squeaky chair we probably got on Craigslist. If we tip-toe to the edge of having a nicer space, we are afraid funders and clients will think we are extravagant and unscrappy and not putting funding to good use.

A few months ago, I had a meeting at a law firm, and I couldn’t believe how ridiculously nice it was. It had a 180-degree view of the water. The reception counter was marble. There was glass and real wood everywhere. The floor was shiny and clean and made of intricate tiles inlaid with opal shavings, and in the bathroom, you wash your hands with unicorn tears, which are very moisturizing.

OK, I might have exaggerated a little about the opal shavings and the unicorn tears, but the rest of it was true. Successful companies understand that good physical work space leads to happier employees, which leads to more stuff getting done and with better quality. Of course, we are non-profits, so I am not advocating for us to spend lavishly on marble counters and views and Swarovski Crystal business card holders for everyone.

But it should be OK for us to have a decent work space. In fact, it is necessary, according to research. For example, here’s this scientific study. Of course, you’re not going to read that since I blatantly said it was a scientific study, so I’ll just quote the findings:

The prime factor which affects the productivity of employees is lighting in the office. Next to the factor lighting, it is spatial arrangement. Then the importance sequence is noise, furniture and temperature. Both natural and artificial light is very essential in any office environment. It gives a sense of energy and affects the mood of the employees […] Accomplishment of daily tasks in workplaces with less or dim light is difficult for employees. Working in dim light leads to eye strain and thus causing headaches and irritability. Due to this discomfort, productivity is very much affected causing overall decrease in employee’s performance.

We don’t need fancy floor tiles and a conference table made from one vertical slice of a giant Redwood tree, polished and shipped in from California (damn you, you sexy extravagant law firm!). But it is not unreasonable to spend funds on good lighting, pleasing paint colors, comfortable temperature, and furniture where there is no constant fear of rashes. If your office lease is coming up, reevaluate if a better, brighter, safer location may increase productivity. If you’re not moving any time soon, brainstorm things that you can do to increase the physical space. For example, buy some nice plants. Hire contractors to repaint the walls. Buy a water cooler that dispenses cold AND hot water. Hire cleaners to steam-remove that horrible stain in your carpet. Instead of a fold-out cot where staff can crash overnight, get an attractive futon where they can crash overnight. Get a nice area rug. These things are not frivolous, and we in nonprofits must disabuse ourselves of the idea that we must always toil in squalor as we try to make the world better.

After eight years of being squished into windowless, grey-walled quarters that send staff and clients into existential crises each day, I’m happy to announce that this August my organization will be located in Seattle’s Columbia City, in the nation’s most diverse zip code, 98118. We’ll still be squished, with ten staff squeezing into a 600 square-foot open-space arrangement, but at least we’ll have sunlight, and a nice rooftop deck, and we’ll be surrounded by restaurants and shops and a farmer’s market on Wednesdays, and we won’t have to deal with the constant dental drilling sound.

The staff and I can’t wait to move into the new space. The energy there just feels so much better. We’ll get an orchid and put it in indirect sunlight and water it with ice cubes. With so much calmness and serenity, I’m sure we’ll get tons of stuff done, and do a better job at them, too. Eventually, maybe after a year or two, we might even tell our clients about our new location.

Letter to my newborn son, in case I die early

Hi everyone. I have been thinking of my son and what would happen if for some reason I die early. I don’t plan to, but who the heck knows what Fate has in store. Having a kid, and running a nonprofit, makes you think about your own mortality a lot. So I wrote him a letter. I am posting it here so that it doesn’t get lost. If Fate doesn’t want me around, please make sure the baby gets this some time.

Dear Son,

By the time you read this letter, I am probably no longer around, and you’ll probably have a hover board and a flying car. That would be awesome. No, not the part where I’m no longer around, but the part about the hover board. If time machines have been invented, please bring me back a hover board.

Your mother and I have had you for two months now. I still remember when we were waiting for you to arrive, anxious to meet you. One day you had the hiccups, and I rested my hand on your mom’s stomach and could feel you jolting every few seconds. Despite all the ultrasound pictures we had of you, you had always seemed distant to me, like a baby unicorn, cute but mythical. But with every jolt of your tiny body, it became clearer and clearer to me that you were real, and that you would be here soon, and that I would get to hold you and sing to you and watch you grow, and maybe use you as an excuse to avoid many, many evening meetings in my nonprofit work.

The past two months have been more difficult and wonderful than I could imagine. I stare at your hands and feet and can’t believe how tiny they are. We have been sleep deprived and exhausted and smelling like spit-up and hand sanitizer, but there are moments—when you smile or talk or fall asleep on our chest or shoulders—when your mother and I just stare at you and selfishly wish for you to remain this small forever. The other day, when you were soundly sleeping, you started laughing, and I wondered what you were dreaming about.

You’ve been appearing in my dreams a lot, probably because I’m thinking about you all the time now. You were about one, and I was holding you, and you got distracted and started squiggling around and tried to climb down the bed. You were too small and the bed was too high and you were afraid to let yourself drop the four terrifying inches down to the floor. You looked up at me with your big liquid eyes, and at that moment, like any good father would, I ignored your plight and frantically tried to find my phone to take a picture of you.

Not all the dreams are as happy. Recently I dreamt I had a terminal illness and only a week left to live. I was sad, one because I would not get to continue watching Game of Thrones, a great television series that I hope you will get to enjoy when you’re old enough, like 30. And two, because I would only have a week left to get to know you. In my dream, I sat down and started to write a letter to you listing out some important life lessons I wanted to teach you, hoping that you would read it one day and know that your father thought of you and loved you more than Game of Thrones, more than the Walking Dead or Arrested Development, more than his own heartbeats, which he needs to watch his favorite shows. Yes, your father sometimes speaks in the third person; all fathers must speak in the third person when they’re writing these types of letters to their children. You’ll understand one day when you have your own little ones.

I woke up from that terrible dream and was happy that I had more than one week left to live. But then I thought of how ephemeral life is. Any of us can go at any time. I should write you a letter any way, just in case. This is supposed to be a private letter to you, and that’s why it’s so long, but your mother and I have poor record-keeping skills, so I am hoping one of my friends on my nonprofitwithballs.com blog will be able to pass this on to you should anything happen to me.

My son, these below are the lessons that I want to pass down to you. These lessons are not original. I’ve learned them from many people, especially in my work in nonprofit, which has some of the coolest people ever, in case you ever decide to go into this field. Through experience and sometimes painful failures, I have found them to be helpful to live by. Depending on when you read this letter, they may not even apply to you at all. I hope you will read this from time to time, and maybe it may make better sense at different points in your life. Read once a while and let these principles guide you to a long and meaningful life that I wish for you:

Never judge anyone for anything ever. Unless you are in the same context, with the same upbringing, the same genes, the same brain structure, unless every atom of your existence is the same as theirs, you have no basis to judge most people. Try not to judge anyone. Even people who create stupid commercials, like those Subway commercials with the annoying adults with kids’ voices, what the hell were they thinking? Also, people who don’t know how to correctly use “literally.” They say ridiculous things like “that meeting literally made my head explode.” It’s easy to judge them, but try not to, since it doesn’t make you any happier in the long run.

Always assume the best intentions in people. Give people the benefit of the doubt. Some people will prove to be unpleasant to deal with and you will encounter many, many people that you will just want to punch in the mouth, but most people are good, and we all have bad days. Don’t burden yourself too much being angry at people and thinking they intentionally mean to hurt you. Most people are also just trying to make it through the day, to get home to their family and a cold drink and their favorite TV show, so if they cut you off in traffic or bumped into you on the sidewalk, they probably didn’t mean it.

Find beauty and humor in the world around you. Sure, it’s really crappy sometimes, with bad things happening to good people all the time. But like Don Quixote said, “When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? To surrender dreams, this may be madness…Too much sanity may be madness! But maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be.” This is one of your father’s favorite quotes, and I hope that you will always try to see life as it should be.

Never think you are above anyone. No matter how successful you are, a major part of your success is the context of your existence. You are born to us, including a very cool dad, in this country, and we are lucky to have so many rights and privileges, but you could have been born elsewhere under different circumstances, and your fate may have been completely different. Be thankful, and never look down on anyone.

Never think that you are beneath anyone. By the same measure, never think that you are beneath anyone. It is normal for you to go through a period where you see others being more successful than you, and you may feel like crap when you compare yourself to them, especially when your family is all like “why aren’t YOU a successful real estate investor like your brother or a doctor like that Nguyen kid?” Use others’ success to motivate you, but again, everyone’s circumstances are different, so comparisons are often meaningless. Be thankful, work hard for what you believe in, and don’t waste time with self-pity.

It is not talent or genius that leads to success, but hard work and perseverance. 95% of the time, those who have C+ talents but A+ perseverance will always be more successful than those who have A+ talents but C+ perseverance. Pursue your dreams, pursue them hard. You will face countless rejection and failure and naysayers who naysay things like “Vu, a teeth lacquer-tattoo business is a bad idea,” but keep trying, because the road to success is littered with geniuses who give up.

Follow your life’s passion, but give back to your community. While you pursue your dreams, don’t forget that you belong to a community, a society. You will never achieve happiness, even if you achieve your dreams, unless you contribute back to the world in some way. Volunteer. Donate. Join a nonprofit board. Help your friends when they’re moving.

Always keep your word. Few things build respect as quickly and consistently as when you do what you say you’ll do. Not just for the big stuff, but also for the small things, like when you say, “I’ll send you that recipe” or “we should get coffee, I’ll email you to arrange a time” or “I’ll drop by your office with Season 6 of Burn Notice.” We have too many let’s-get-coffee’s that never lead anywhere. Your word is your promise. Never promise anything that you do not plan to follow up on.

Acknowledge people. Everyone has an important story that you can learn from. Try to learn people’s names and their hopes and dreams. You may forget, and that’s understandable, but try to really “see” the people around you: your family, friends, co-workers, teachers, bosses, but also your mail carrier, neighbors, waiters, grocery baggers, bus drivers, etc. Be genuine and present when you talk to anyone, no matter if you will encounter them again in your life or not.

Don’t be restricted by labels: The world is complicated, and we are tempted to categorize ourselves and others: Democrats, Republicans; Male, Female; Gay, Straight; Orange juice with pulp, orange juice without pulp. But the world and you are much more complex and interesting than that. Try not to label others, and apply labels to yourself only if you find them helpful. Otherwise, explore the awesomeness of life and existence and do what makes your life meaningful, as long as you don’t hurt others.

Never be too certain of anything: Life is full of uncertainty, and reality is weird and unpredictable, and that’s what makes it both terrifying and interesting. If you become too certain of anything, you may close yourself to the possibilities that may exist. Keep an open mind; listen to others’ perspectives. Otherwise you become that annoying know-it-all that no one really wants to hang out with.

The right things to do are usually the hardest: For example, getting up to go to work, apologizing to someone you wronged, calling up your parents and asking how they are when you just want to go partying with your friends in college, not taking that fifth glass of red wine at an annual fundraising dinner. Try to always stand up for what you believe in, and always do the right thing, even if it’s uncomfortable, even if people dislike you, even if they think you’re an idiot. It is always better to be an idiot who did the right thing.

One person can make a difference: Never listen to anyone who tries to convince you that the things that you are trying to do is too big and that you are just one person. It always starts with one person, who through courage and perseverance inspires another person, who inspires another, and so on. That is the only way things happen. Always do the right thing, even if you are the only person doing it.

You can get a lot of things done if you don’t mind who takes the credit: I know very few people whose life goal is “to get a lot of credit for doing something.” The people you should get to know are those whose goals are to achieve something, to change the world for the better somehow. The argument over who gets the credit can oftentimes be distracting or even destructive. Fame and approval should be a bonus, or the tools for achieving your goal, not the goal itself. This can be a hard lesson to absorb, but I’ve learned it works well when everyone buys into it…Of course, there’s a limit to this, so if anyone continually steals your credit and it distracts you from your goal, don’t hesitate to kick ass.

Never forget your family and heritage. Our family has gone through a lot—several wars, countless heartbreaks. Your paternal grandfather was sent to reeducation camp. Your paternal grandmother peddled her bicycle for 30 miles each day to sell grains and feed your aunts and uncles and me. I’m sorry that you never got to meet her, as she would have loved you more than you can know. They, and your mother’s side of the family, have gone through things that you and I can only imagine. These things, and our families’ tireless perseverance, led to me and to your mother and to you. For whatever reason, you are born to us. Learn where you come from, and as much as you can keep and pass down your heritage. You will go through some times when you are frustrated at your family. It’s OK. You can love people, and not like them from time to time. But just remember that no one loves you more than your family.

Be generous with yourself and others. You will make mistakes, and so will others. Your father has broken many of these rules that he has written down here in this letter to you, and likely he will do so again in the future. He has screwed up lots of times. You will also screw up from time to time. Learn from your mistakes, and forgive yourself. Try your best to be a good person. Don’t expect perfection in yourself or others.

Appreciate the little things, the small moments, in life. Finally, the last lesson I want to make sure to pass down to you, is also one of the most important: Don’t take the details for granted. The little things, that’s what life is made of. I was visiting Brandon Lee (son of Bruce Lee)’s grave, and this was carved on it:

“Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even that. How many times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.” (Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky)

I have known of this lesson, but only in the last couple of months having held you and gotten to know you and getting spit up on by you, that I really understood it. I have learned this lesson from you. I have learned that time does not stand still. I start thinking of how many more times I will get to hold you and read to you and swaddle you and rock you to sleep on my shoulder and place you gently down in the baby swing. Soon you will be walking and talking and going to kindergarten and getting your first job and going to high school and entering college and experiencing your first heartbreak, hopefully in that order.

I am writing this to you on my first Father’s Day, and you are only two months old, but if you are reading this, then you are already much older. We may have already gotten into arguments about how dangerous hover boards are. You may have already run away from home once or twice and stowed-away on a shuttle to the moon colony or something. You may already have been embarrassed multiple times by your dad showing up in his beat-up hydro-powered car to pick you up from your underground school, spouting some stuff about social justice and cultural competency.

I do not know how many more Father’s Days we will have together. If Fate is kind, it will give us our afternoons, and the twenty or so times where we can watch the full moon rise. I would like that very much. And hopefully I will be there when you have your first little one. If Fate is not so kind, if my life is cut short for any reason, I want you to know that your father has had a good life so far, made much more complete now that he has held you and listened to you laugh in your sleep, and that he loves you more than he ever thought he could love anything.

Dad

8 Tips for a successful nonprofit blind date

This week I had two nonprofit blind dates (NBD). It’s like a regular blind date, but it’s work-related, and people are generally not as attractive (they tend to look more tired). Usually it starts because a colleague thinks you should meet someone or vice-versa because the stuff you both are working on is so cool and you could totally hit it off with this person and get together to collaborate and build synergy or something. Sometimes an NBD happens as a result of cold email requests for meetings, or it’s part of a grant-making process.

Whatever the reason, they happen a lot and are awkward as hell. A huge part is because you have no clue what the other person looks like, and they don’t know you either. On numerous occasions I’ve walked up to complete strangers and asked them questions like “Are you Jane from UNICORN?” One time a woman just stared at me. “You know,” I continued, “the, uh, Union of Cool and Remarkable Nonprofits, UNICORN…”

She said, “No, but I COULD be, you nonprofit stud muffin you.”

All right, no one ever said that, but that would have made this post more interesting.

Anyway, I’ve compiled a list of tips that will help make the blind meeting easier:

Tip 1: Google to find out what your date looks like.  After scheduling a meeting with one of my NBD’s this week, she sent me a picture via LinkedIn, which was very thoughtful of her. LinkedIn is a site for professional networking, so it is perfectly acceptable to send a picture that way. Unless specifically requested, do not email a picture of yourself, as that can be construed as narcissistic and creepy, and worse, they might send you back a reply like “Vu, have you considered Acne-Free? They have a deal now with free shipping.”

Tip 2: If you don’t have time or don’t use LinkedIn, an email description is fine. Stick to short and simple, for example: “I’m a lanky Asian guy, 5’8”, in my 30’s, but looking much older.” Do not go overboard with the descriptions: “I have piercing brown eyes that twitch when I’m stressed. Usually I wear a button-down shirt that will have three or four spaghetti stains. I like bunnies. Sometimes at night I stay up wondering if this is all there is, and if I’m just wasting away my one life staying up late pondering existential questions.”

Tip 3: Get the person’s cell phone number, and give them yours. This is helpful for when you’re running late.  If you can’t find the person and it’s 10 minutes past the appointed time, call their cell. Do not send them a text message like “I am standing in the corner near the bathroom, watching you. Are you the one wearing a red shirt? It’s nice.”

Tip 4: Arrive 5 or 10 minutes early. This will not only give you time to secure a table (assuming the meeting is at a café or restaurant) and seem thoughtful, but it will also allow you to get your coffee first. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, is more awkward than standing in line together with your blind date trying to make small talk while waiting for the line to advance. One of the Laws of Awkwardness states that the more awkward something is, the slower time moves. You can avoid all this by getting your coffee first, thus heading off not only the small-talk weirdness, but also the who’s-paying awkwardness. If necessary, lie and say something like “I already drank five cups of coffee today at other meetings, you go ahead” but under no circumstances get in line with your meeting date.

Tip 5: Sit so that you face the entrance. That way you can watch your date enter. Also, have a notebook and pen to take notes. Pretend to be working, so that when the person arrives, they can see how serious and busy you are. Making a good first impression is important, and you want to project the aura of competence for as long as possible.

Tip 6: Play the rapid eye-contact game. If you forgot the steps where you find out what your date looks like and/or get their phone number (and most of us do), you must now resort to the gopher-like bouts of looking around and making eye contact for a split second with different people in the room to see if there is a flash of reciprocation. Chances are, your date is doing the same. At some point, your gazes will meet, in which case you must both send some sort of signal to acknowledge each other. Smiling and waving is appropriate; scanning them up and down and then looking disappointed is not.

Tip 7: Do not hug your meeting date. In all the excitement of the search, you may feel tempted to hug your date when you finally encounter them. Try to refrain from doing this. In the best case, the other person is also a hugger and just loves hugging people they just met. Likely, however, they’ll just be confused and weirded out and not respond to your follow-up invitation to attend your organization’s annual dinner, which is on April 20^th.

Tip 8: When the meeting concludes, ask your colleague which way they’re walking out. You can then say “Great, me too, I’ll walk out with you” or “My car is parked at the other entrance; it was great meeting you.” This avoids the awkwardness of saying bye and then walking out together. It’s a very long walk and almost as painful as waiting in line with them. Sometimes I’ll just remain at the café and try to get five minutes of work done on my phone, just to avoid walking out with the person. Sometimes your date may decide to use the restroom before heading off, in which case, get the hell out of there as fast as you can.

That’s it. If you follow the tips above, you should be able to minimize awkwardness and have a productive date, provided you have meeting objectives and next steps and other basics covered. Wait, a couple more things:

Optional Tip 1: Have one of your staff call you halfway into your meeting. That way, if you’re not hitting if off synergistically, you can have an excuse to leave.

Optional Tip 2: If you’re meeting with me, bring vegan chocolate. (Make sure it’s at least 65% cocoa. We might be poor in the nonprofit world, but we’re not animals).