On the drive to work, I started listening to a book about listening. Naturally, the focus was on better relationships with family, friends, and even co-workers. But it triggered a memory, one that still reminds me how often we think we are listening when, really, we are just waiting for our turn to speak.
A gentleman I had never met called and said he had heard about our organization from his buddies at the golf course. He was interested in making a donation.
At the time, I was also the chief fundraiser, so I welcomed the chance to meet with someone considering a gift. Like most executive directors, I already had my “program talk” polished and ready.
What I did not have ready was what came next: listening.
A donor visit I’ll never forget
My visitor was a retired Dallas banker with a long career in finance. He and his wife had picked Tyler as their “next in life” destination. He had been here long enough to find at least three other guys to play golf with several days a week.
We set a time for him to come by the office. I remember joining him on the guest side of my desk. With short introductions out of the way, he asked about the organization. I launched into services and client stories.
He interrupted to ask a pointed question about our budget—something I had not touched on during several minutes of talking. In fact, no donor had ever asked that specific a question. I fumbled for an answer, and he just listened. He didn’t help me out. He didn’t rescue me. He simply waited and listened.
Listening to an executive director explain programs and services or share client stories seems typical enough. In fact, it’s so expected that most executive directors perfected their “pitch” long ago. What many haven’t perfected is the art of having a true conversation about their organization—one shaped as much by listening as by talking.
The reason this may have been overlooked is simple: so few donors ask deep questions, and even fewer listen carefully to the answers.
A small moment with a friend
Here’s a different kind of missed opportunity to listen:
Standing nearby with several friends, I overheard one ask the other about volunteering at a local nonprofit. The answer was brief. The questioner said, “That’s great,” and quickly moved on to another topic.
But what was great about it? Why did her friend volunteer at that particular organization? What might she have learned by simply staying curious and listening?
Listening to a friend talk about where they volunteer their time, or why they choose to volunteer, is like panning for gold. You might learn something about an issue that will influence your own giving or volunteer decisions, mere flakes of gold.
But the gold nugget is something else entirely: an opportunity to learn more about a friend while giving them something we all quietly long for—the gift of being truly heard.
When donors don’t feel heard
Here’s another example:
A donor of significant capacity once shared a frustrating conversation with a nonprofit organization with me. The offer of a significant gift had been made. The donor thought the amount was clear and asked for a few pages of written explanation showing how the gift would be used and what impact it would have on clients.
When she read what the organization had written, she was discouraged. The numbers didn’t add up to her offer.
In her mind, the executive director had demonstrated a failure to listen. And once trust erodes in a donor relationship—even slightly—it can be difficult to rebuild.
Why listening matters in giving
At the heart of every meaningful exchange is the ability to truly listen. Deep listening assumes honesty and trust, earnest and thoughtful dialogue, and tact when necessary.
As a donor, you have an opportunity to engage in conversation with an organization’s executive director, key staff, or board members in a way that honors and values their work and commitment. You also learn how to make your gift even more impactful.
As a friend, you respect someone’s choices and validate the causes they believe are important. It doesn’t have to be your cause to offer the gift of truly listening.
And as a community of givers—through time, talent, or financial resources—every listening conversation creates an opportunity to deepen our understanding of the place where we live and how we can help make it even better.
Try this: Six ways to practice the art of listening
- Ask one question and pause. Let the other person finish their full thought before you respond. Try a three-second pause. Hard, but worth every second.
- Listen for meaning, not just information. Programs and budgets matter, and so do motivation, values, and lived experience.
- Repeat back what you heard. “What I’m hearing is…” builds trust and prevents misunderstanding.
- Follow the thread, not the script. Curiosity matters more than control. If a donor (or friend) goes deeper, go with them. Don’t pull the conversation back to your thoughts.
- Ask one “why” question. “Why that organization?” “Why now?” “Why does that matter to you?”
- Close with gratitude. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” It’s simple, but it changes the tone of everything.
Did I mention the name of the book? The Lost Art of Listening (Second Edition), my Michael P. Nichols. If you read it or listen to it, let me know what you take away.
I don’t remember everything I said during that donor visit years ago. But I remember what the donor did: he asked, then he listened. And I certainly remember how I felt: heard.
I wonder how many donors—how many friends—how many meaningful conversations we miss simply because we don’t leave enough room for silence.
Perhaps we’ll learn to give better, to find more of that meaningful gold, by listening together.
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If you have a question or a topic you would like to see explored in future posts, please reach out to me.
Website: www.dawnfranks.com
Email: dawn@dawnfranks.com
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