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The Fund RaiserPart Company
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Readers who make it all the way through my columns, and those who skip to the end to see just who's writing this stuff, will notice that my title includes three elements: I'm a director of corporate, foundation, and government relations. The order doesn't suggest a matter of priority but merely an alphabetical presentation. I'm not kidding. Corporate relations doesn't rank first among my duties, and it probably doesn't even rank second. That's because I work for a small, rural, liberal-arts college. Our prospects for corporate beneficence are limited -- some would say by imagination only, but my experience reveals a different story. I should admit right off that I've been spoiled. For about five years I worked in a similar capacity for a flagship university in a state boasting no fewer than 18 Fortune 500 companies. Corporate partnerships were easy to build there. The university featured schools of business, engineering, medicine, and pharmacy -- areas in which companies were eager to invest. It pumped out thousands of potential employees every year, so corporations considered it a prime source of human capital. To strengthen those bonds, my development colleagues and I connected faculty members who were pushing the boundaries of knowledge with R&D divisions that were interested in sponsored research. We offered our best and brightest students for internships and summer jobs. And, as a result, we raked in the cash for scholarships, endowed chairs, and new buildings. The university also sported a marquee basketball program that galvanized fan support in a state with no professional teams. Recognizing the value of branding with us, companies were eager to slap their names on our parquet floor and in marketing materials, often paying seven figures for the privilege. Back then, corporate relations seemed easy. Sure, it was hard work, but our efforts were always rewarded. Fast forward a few years. I'm immersed in the liberal arts, and there isn't a major corporation in sight. New Hampshire has a grand total of one Fortune 500 company, and it's pretty far down on the list. My institution has no schools of business, engineering, or medicine -- we have no schools, period -- to attract executives' attention. We don't release thousands of graduates into the state's economic firmament every year. Our faculty members focus on teaching, usually at the expense of cutting-edge research. And while we do have a highly competitive soccer program, our teams don't appear on national television very often. Still, undaunted, I embarked on a tour of New Hampshire's businesses not long after arriving. I figured that a large number of small gifts from medium-size companies might just add up. So I got on the phone and began lobbying for appointments. Here's how a typical conversation went: "I'd like to speak with your corporate contributions officer," I'd say. "Our what?" "Do you have someone there responsible for philanthropic giving?" "Phil who?" "You know, giving money to nonprofits." "Uh ..." "OK, can I speak with your human-resources manager?" "We're not hiring, sir." When I did manage to land in front of executives from midsize companies, I quickly discovered that, one, they don't give much money away; two, they're not terribly organized about such activities; and, three, higher education ranked low among their priorities. Company officials bragged about giving to the local United Way or supporting the high-school cheerleading squad's trip to the regionals. The tri-town theater group put on a spectacular production of Godspell, and that was good for a $200 donation and a spot on the back page of the program. I was a long way from endowed chairs and priority seating at Madison Square Garden. Those were the halcyon years, when I could match a company's quid with our quo. Now I was getting "que?" I did drum up interest in our well-publicized (by our standards) mass-communications center, named for a former high-ranking government official who had joined our board. Radio stations and newspapers were especially interested in hiring our students and graduates. Of course, neither give away much money, if any, so I was trading my role of fund raiser for that of career planning and placement officer. To be fair, we did initially raise a decent amount of corporate dollars to establish the communications center. Many of those donations, though, were made in honor of the trustee for whom it was named. Some of the execs had never heard of us (I know because they asked me basic questions about the college at dinner parties), and they weren't necessarily supporting the institution per se. In other words, those corporations made one-time gifts, and we couldn't expect future contributions. All this is not to imply that we don't raise corporate money here, or at least try to. We simply do our best within clearly understood parameters. So if you're in the same boat -- especially if you're new to the liberal-arts game -- here are a few nuggets to digest:
I've noticed a number of colleagues at similar institutions with titles listing "foundation" before "corporation." That seems about right, even if it's not exactly alphabetical. |
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