Rejection. It’s a sad word that contains the noun meaning a failure, and the verb meaning “to be tossed out”. Wisdom dictates that rejection of an idea, proposal or request isn't personal, and should be taken as an opportunity to improve. We are advised to adopt a growth mindset, seek feedback, and take decisive action—transforming rejection into a powerful tool for development. I find that’s easier said than done.
An essential characteristic of any fundraiser must be the ability to deal with rejection. We are often told “no”. In some cases, this happens a lot, in others less frequently, but I have yet to meet a not-for-profit professional who has dodged letters of refusal, flat out “no thanks”, or worst of all—the end of communication without warning. We get ghosted!
While we may learn to deal with rejection, I have yet to embrace the idea that it is “not about me”. It is very much about me – but not in the ways one might imagine.
A proposal
Recently, I had the opportunity to participate in developing a major gift proposal to support a niche and novel academic initiative. I collaborated with a few professors who’d worked very hard to develop a solution to a complex problem they had identified. On paper, the program was fantastic, and we planned to approach a select group of funders whose stated philanthropic goals aligned with the project and whose initial support would possibly encourage other philanthropists to invest.
I shared the concept paper with the few potential donors. They were enthusiastic and open to considering the project once the details were finalized; all feedback was very encouraging. After carefully crafting the request letter, working to clearly demonstrate the value proposition and positive return on investment—I sent it off, with great hopes of hearing from them soon, and a request to please be in touch if there was a need for additional information or any questions to be answered.
Then I waited. Not patiently, but fully aware of the time it takes for a foundation to consult with their board and for individuals to ponder a request and consider all the other appeals being made in relation to financial priorities.
I checked my emails more often than usual and may have played a few rounds of solitaire and Candy Crush, convinced that a win foretold the outcome. I am sure you’ve guessed, that the outcome was that “our request would not be considered at this time.” In other words, we were rejected.
When it came, the foundation’s response highlighted appreciation for the idea, and complimented the caliber of the proposal. Softening the rejection even further, the letter spoke to my personal connection with the project, and how that made it harder (but clearly not impossible) to say no.
I felt horrible. I felt I’d let down the academic team and the intended (albeit unaware) beneficiaries, who were all counting on me to secure the funding. I did not see opportunities for growth or improvement. The proposal was faultless; it simply did not align perfectly with what the donors were looking for.
It’s about more than the “close”
I shared how I was feeling with some friends who also work in the NFP sector and, while discussing the impact of the response, we realized the benefit and need for us to acknowledge the depth of our genuine personal disappointment. This is what best distinguishes fundraisers from people in sales. We are integrally involved in building relationships with the hope and intent to inspire philanthropic investment. Its not simply about closing a gift, its about being fundamentally part of it, and in that way, it is about me.
I am not suggesting that rejection should trigger a defeatist attitude, crush confidence, or prevent us from seeing the larger picture. I am suggesting that “being about me” is not always a call to action, or opportunity to improve, or even a reason to obsess over what could have been done differently. The emotional pain associated with rejection is the true actualization of a growth mindset. It is, in itself, a powerful tool for development that I can simply sit with. Our feelings mean that we care, and have an attachment to our work. The inherent pain that accompanies rejection—be it in response to a request for a meeting, or answer to an appeal for funding—can be the fuel that gently encourages us to keep on trying.
If you find yourself numb to rejection, it may be time to assess your level of burnout and/or engagement in the mandate of the organization you are employed at. You may also want to consider your reasons for working in the not-for-profit sector, or a combination of all three.
The hope is that the approvals far outweigh refusals, and that we continue to find the sparks of passion in the meaningful work that we do.
Debbie Dankoff, MPNL, PPCC, CFRE has been working in the not-for-profit sector for over thirty years. The bulk of her career has been in major gift fundraising for higher education. Debbie is a certified Professional & Personal Coach, who uses her training when consulting for a variety of organizations in the charitable sector; her focus being on organizational development, donor stewardship and self-care.
