Life, the Universe, and the NEA

The National Endowment for the Arts has a complex history.  Or at least it must have a complex history, for when you do a search for “NEA history” (after you sort past the entries that describe the National Educational Association), you are presented with the NEA.GOV website, at which there is a 314-page document entitled, “National Endowment for the Arts: A History – 1965-2008.”


314 pages.  That’s a lot of information and a lot of impact for an agency that is responsible for less than 1 percent of all the arts funding in the US.  It’s a ton of information for an agency whose budget comprises less than four thousandths of a percent of the national budget.  To be precise, the current budget is 0.00369 of one percent of this year’s US budget.  That means that for every thousand dollars of taxes paid, less than 4 cents goes to the NEA.

According to a report, military marching bands, which are necessary, are estimated to receive more than $50,000,000 more this year in the current budget than all the arts groups funded by the NEA. Nice recruitment tool.  It shows every high school clarinetist, trombonist, and sousaphone player that they have the capacity to be all they can be.

The NEA, according to itself -- http://www.nea.gov/pub/nea-history-1965-2008.pdf -- is unique among federal agencies. “Created by the Congress of the United States and President Lyndon B. Johnson in 1965, the NEA was not intended to solve a problem, but rather to embody a hope. The NEA was established to nurture American creativity, to elevate the nation’s culture, and to sustain and preserve the country’s many artistic traditions. The Arts Endowment’s mission was clear—to spread this artistic prosperity throughout the land, from the dense neighborhoods of our largest cities to the vast rural spaces, so that every citizen might enjoy America’s great cultural legacy.”

Willard Mitt Romney has said he will eliminate funding for the NEA, among other agencies.  “Some of these things, like those endowment efforts and PBS I very much appreciate and like what they do in many cases, but I just think they have to stand on their own rather than receiving money borrowed from other countries, as our government does on their behalf," Romney said, according to The Hill.

Um, okay.  So Willard, you don’t want to borrow money from China to pay for, you know, unnecessary US things.  I guess I would understand that, except the amount of money you’re talking about is, as we described earlier, pennies per thousand dollars.

In a Huffington Post article, Travis Korte opines that “even if it's no longer possible to have a bipartisan conversation about arts money, maybe that's for the best….And, as any manufacturing tycoon will tell you, it's more efficient in the long run to invest in means than in ends. Arts advocates sometimes forget that we ought to agree with this: when we talk about culture and heritage, we're talking about future generations and long-term benefits, not immediate profits.…On top of the federal arts budget's inefficiencies and lack of influence, there's the intrinsic trouble of centralizing something people are expected and even encouraged to disagree about.”

It’s an interesting point, and something I’ve heard over the years, even from artists.  As someone who ran organizations that received NEA grants, I’m not sure if they served as an advantage or a detriment to the organization.  I felt that at the time of funding and still feel it now. 

If the arts endowment were eliminated, what would happen?  Would the arts in America die?  Would the anti-freedom crowd in the GOP claim a victory?  If so, then what?  Would that embolden them to eliminate funding for military marching bands?  And what good would that do?

At some level, I think this is a discussion that happened in Las Vegas when larger casinos decided to eliminate the $2 blackjack tables.  They’re a lot of work for not a lot of yield.  But they’re also a point of entry for those that have never gambled.  And the pennies spent toward the arts in the United States might be determined not to be a central policy position, but as an incentive, to create a point of entry for participation in all the arts.

But why?  Why must we have a point of entry?  Are we “nurturing American creativity,” as the NEA publication stated, even in the light of the recent “Shakespeare in America” initiative which rewarded exactly zero American playwrights from 2004-2009?  What is the purpose of investing America with the arts if America is ambiguous –- if not downright hostile – to the idea?

As we continue our mean-spirited carousel of polarized thought and aversion to compromise, we in the arts community must also remember that we have a job to do that is not complete merely by the creation of art. 
We in the arts community often point to other countries and their national support of the arts, and that support is real.  For each $0.01 a US taxpayer spends on all the arts in the US, a German taxpayer pays $2.00 for all the arts in Germany.  Most of Europe and Asia is similar – the US taxpayer bears the lowest burden toward the arts of any non-third-world country in the world.

But we Americans have had a problem valuing the power of the arts, and it doesn’t take an endowment to quantify value in a capitalistic society.  It takes discipline, differentiation, and determination – not to create excellence or relevance, as most arts organizations’ leaders believe.  Neither of those attributes is germane to the discussion – they are expected by your community; they are a baseline, not a goal. 

No:  discipline, differentiation, and determination are needed to create organizations which provide external greater good.  The arts in America do not succeed by producing arts in America; they succeed by producing better Americans.  And if the NEA were eliminated and the discussion made moot, would we in the arts community be in a better position to freely produce better people?  Just asking.

The Interim Solution: Don't let Jack and Jill take your organization down the hill with them

How often have we seen this happen?

Jack – an artistic, managing, or executive director – announces that he is leaving the company. Jack is a founding director, or at least a director who has held the position for many years and the organization has been built around his tastes, his passion, and his contacts. The Board chair pales at first, but is made to feel better when Jack gives so much notice as to be able to recruit a successor. Jack is central to the recruitment, offering selflessly to winnow the field. Jack has always thought that Jill might be a good choice, and the board goes along with his recommendation. Jill arrives. Jill is happy. Jack is happy.

There is much celebration as the new director takes the predecessor’s job, chair, desk, office, and responsibilities. Jill’s background and contacts are similar to Jack’s. Jill is respected highly by Jack and, by extension, the search committee. The search committee is happy. The search firm in Connecticut that was paid $15K to conduct the search is happy, because they asked Jack who they should call and when Jack suggested Jill and the board agreed, they did so. The arts organization, for which this has been a harrowing period filled with uncertainty, rumor, and something of a death march, is saved. The employees are happy. And the merry-go-round continues blissfully.

Except for the tiny, niggling problem of Jill’s own talents and personality. Jill is not Jack, no matter how much influence Jack had in hiring her, and no matter how available Jack has made himself to Jill. Jill, for no other reason than she is a different person than Jack, has her own agenda. It is not an evil agenda – in fact, it’s pretty exciting – but it is unfamiliar and untested. Even though Jill has done a good job at her previous position, it was not at this organization in this city at this time. Jill starts to get frustrated when she ultimately discovers that, regardless of the rhetoric thrown her way by the board chair, supporters, staff, and artists – and by her partner in the organization, if there is a two-headed directorship – she is expected to continue Jack’s work and have Jack’s results.

The work suffers an identity crisis as Jill discovers that not only has she been enlisted to follow Jack’s path, but that there’s a mission to the organization that is so open to interpretation as to mean nothing at all. It is some version of “we do good work, so you should support us,” but more eloquently written with much obfuscation involved. Mentions of “lifelong learning” or “the celebration of the spoken word” or “education and engagement” are simply ornamental filigree to a mission that, when broken down to its most undividable form, holds no opinion or power.

But Jill soldiers on. After a year, during which time the organization has taken a financial bath because it had been branded not by its own successful mission but by Jack’s success, Jill is unhappy. Board members resign. Others are tossed off. The Board is unhappy. The employees, half of which have taken other jobs, are unhappy. The work is unexpected, ambitious, and only liked by new audiences unfamiliar with Jack’s work. However, the longtime season ticket holders are unhappy and drop their subscriptions.

After a second year, Jill is more unhappy. She realizes now that she’s moved across the country to take a position that was not hers, but Jack’s. Jack offers little advice because he’s entrenched in his own career. Jill keeps an apartment in New York, where she lived before she took the new position. She is so confused and embittered that she starts to absent herself from all but the most critical company functions. She distances herself from the staff except for the ones that came on after her arrival. The board chair changes. The new chair is looking for more responsibility toward the finances after two bad years.

Jill announces her resignation. It’s a toss-up as to the reality – maybe she resigned, maybe she was asked to resign. In any case, she is not given the lengthy period of time to recruit a successor. She’s given the minimum. She is deemed a failure and scurries back to New York where her base of personal support exists and she recovers.

The company, now reeling, makes another search and hires Fred – who is neither Jack nor Jill – and now collectively comes to the public with hat in hand, attempting to repair relationships with all stakeholders – audiences, board members, volunteers, staff, government funders, foundations, individual donors, corporations, and the media – while not admitting that the fundamental issue is not the leader but the organization itself and its lack of identity. And a larger problem is that the leaders of the organization have not learned anything from the process, which means that Fred’s fate may well end up just like Jill’s, which means that the vicious cycle continues until someone turns it around.

Or until the place shuts down.

Whichever comes first.

What are the broken issues here? Whose fault is it? And why didn’t the board, the staff, Jack, and Jill know that this was a desperately poor succession strategy?

Jack, after all, had done his homework on succession strategies and Jill was always in the back of his mind for this particular purpose. Did he tell anyone? Did he tell Jill? Was there a documentation of this? And finally, is it at all important for an outgoing director to be involved at all in the choice of his successor?

First of all, succession planning is not necessarily a permanent option. In fact, it works best if there are several people brought into the process and the absence of the director is either temporary (for example, a sabbatical), emergency, or when bad behavior requires that the director be removed immediately. The plans should be documented in the company’s strategic plan, allowing for duplication of responsibilities in order to bring some talent to the organization’s depth chart. Ideally, the depth chart should be in-house and temporary.

In this case, however, there was no emergency and Jack gave plenty of notice. And all the bad things happened rather predictably. Certainly, this is a worst-case scenario, but a scenario that within the last ten years played out at a once-prominent arts organization in the United States.

Knowing all these issues, the board could have searched for an interim director. Why? Because an interim solution is one that provides for the present while the governing body retreats to seek a long-term solution.

Yes, I can hear you through the internet. “Why do an executive search twice?” you’re asking. Isn’t it twice the work to hire an interim leader and then hire a permanent one? Won’t it take forever?

Doing a search for an interim director does not preclude a search for a permanent director. Interims do not necessarily want to be a permanent director of that organization. Boards and staffs often look at an interim director fish-eyed when that information arises; there is an acceptable amount of mistrust when someone says that they simply don’t want to work there full time. Still, if the goal is to provide for the now while the company prepares for the future, intentional interim leadership is a good plan.

Bringing in an Interim leader after a quick shakeup, however, is not a good idea. It is an easy idea – often a board member believes that he or she can handle the day-to-day leadership responsibilities, and a board chair is almost always looking for an easy solution – but it is not a good idea. In those cases, if leadership has not already been documented by a succession plan, or if the succession plan has gone awry because the successor moved on to another organization, then a better path would be to take the time to do an active search for an interim leader from outside the organization while the difficult job of picking up the pieces takes place.

In the scenario, what if, after Jack’s revelation to the board that he was resigning, the board had decided to perform a search for an interim director. Let’s say that they decided that Jill would be an excellent choice. If Jill wanted more, she could certainly throw her hat into the ring for the permanent job, but there would be no expectation of that. Jill could keep her apartment in New York without the idea that she was compelled to move her family to the new city. There would be no expectation from the board, staff, community, and other stakeholders that Jill would be leading the company for an undetermined period. If things went as sour as they did in the scenario, she would simply finish out her year and return, having completed the job she was asked to do. The company would have gone through a serious review of mission and policies. The board would have hired a new permanent director, Fred, by then, with the knowledge that Fred’s company would be Fred’s legacy. And there would be another series of strategic planning sessions immediately after Fred’s arrival, with his unique vision, strategy, and description of success folded into the company.

Every leader’s legacy ends the day the leader leaves the company. The new leader must not simply be given the reins; instead, the new leader must provide a new method of transportation, a new way of leading an organization’s success story. In the interim version of the scenario, where the board has made the good decision to intentionally not hire the first best person that came along, the company is given the best chance to succeed.

Another important point, too often ignored (which is why it's in bold): It is never a good idea to have the outgoing director have a say on his or her permanent successor. No matter who the outgoing director is or how amicable the separation is. Never. Never. Never.

For the most part, unfortunately, most companies still seek permanent replacements immediately. If your company is undergoing a leadership change, you should probably call in a consultant immediately (yes, I do that -- call me at 206.533.0242, or you can click here to send me an email) who can walk you through a successful succession process.

Oh, and one last thing. I’ve often thought it might be an interesting idea to take potential permanent leaders into a strategic planning process. Not all candidates simultaneously, of course, just in sections. Their actions and reactions during the process may help, in real time, to determine their fit in the organization. Just a thought. What do you think?

Note to Susan G. Komen and Planned Parenthood: Let the sun shine in

Like many of you, I find the whole Susan G. Komen Foundation/Planned Parenthood kerfuffle to be a fascinating study.

On the one hand, the Foundation has every right to fund any organization they choose, as long as it follows their mission and as long as the donors to the Foundation understand that. Similarly, Planned Parenthood offers services that the Komen Foundation has found worthy enough to fund, and the argument that the board determined that it would no longer fund other organizations “under investigation” becomes somewhat reminiscent of the Joseph McCarthy era and its dogma that guilt by association is nonetheless guilt.

And yes, I did just compare communism to women's choice. They're both legal in this country, last I checked.

In my view, the Komen/PP issue is one of nonprofit focus. The Komen Foundation’s mission statement is:

“The Susan G. Komen for the Cure promise: to save lives and end breast cancer forever by empowering people, ensuring quality of care for all and energizing science to find the cures.”

The Planned Parenthood mission statement is:

“Planned Parenthood believes in the fundamental right of each individual, throughout the world, to manage his or her fertility, regardless of the individual's income, marital status, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, age, national origin, or residence. We believe that respect and value for diversity in all aspects of our organization are essential to our well-being. We believe that reproductive self-determination must be voluntary and preserve the individual's right to privacy. We further believe that such self-determination will contribute to an enhancement of the quality of life and strong family relationships.”

Unless I’m missing something, the missions of the two organizations do not intersect. So one wonders why the Komen Foundation was providing funding in the first place. The answer there is that Planned Parenthood extended, in their own way through a natural evolution, to a women’s health organization and provided cancer screenings. That particular activity then becomes the overlap in the Venn diagram that represents the relationship between the two.

So where is that commitment in Planned Parenthood’s mission? Should the mission be re-written to be more reflective of the activities? And what happens when donors to Susan G. Komen Foundation discover that their donations are not 100% funding the organizations they believe ought to be funded (it’s amazing what expenses some organizations consider to be “program expenses”)?

And what do they do now?

There is a murky political thing that happens when Nonprofit A, which elicits funds from the public, then funds Nonprofit B. The original donor has no say in the matter, of course, because that person is giving to support the mission of the Nonprofit A, entrusting them to forward their mission. That political murkiness becomes muddy when another donor gives restricted funding to Nonprofit A, saying that the funding can only come if a specific program is funded, regardless of its connection to the original mission. It becomes downright filthy and forever stained when that program actually adds expenses and manpower to Nonprofit A to the extent that Nonprofit A is forced to pull energy away from its original mission in order to service the needs of the donor.

The critical issue is complete and proactive transparency, both from the Susan G. Komen Foundation and from Planned Parenthood. In a previous posting, I listed the “10 Common Sense Rules for Marketing Theater.” The answer to both organizations’ quandaries lies in Rule #1.

Rule #1: Never assume anyone knows what you’re talking about. Ever.

At the risk of appearing overeager, both organizations might take this opportunity to inform as though they were startups. They could release public documents (990s and such), annual reports, board minutes, impact studies, and anything else they can get their hands on. They could be completely transparent about CEO salaries, what activities constitute program expenses, and point out their flaws and warts as well.

One of the key board members on the Komen Foundation, for example, is a lobbyist for a living. There’s nothing actually wrong with that (it’s a protected right, the fifth addressed in the first amendment of the Constitution), but the reality is that the public does not trust lobbyists to be pro-anything except lobbyists. The perception is that everything a lobbyist believes, he only believes because he’s getting paid to believe it.

Planned Parenthood has few men involved on a high level. That fact may be borne out of mistrust (perfectly understandable, given our male/female history), but it’s a fact nonetheless and provides an antithetical backdrop of the organization. The public perception here is that Planned Parenthood, like NOW, is anti-male.

These perceptions are reality to many. It’s easy to manipulate public perception through spin. Karl Rove has made a good living at it. James Carville, too. But if Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis was correct in his assertion that “sunlight is the best disinfectant,” then these organizations with controversy attached to them need to go out, get undressed, and get a metaphorical tan. They might get burned, but at least everyone will know where the burns are.

Burn Down the Mission

Missions, missions, missions. So many organizations have adopted mission statements with the idea that they should reflect their own happy business practices that they missed the boat on why missions should be documented.

The Drucker Foundation, named after Peter Drucker, the man generally anointed as the most important designer of business strategy in the latter half of the last century, describes criteria for a successful mission statement as a step-by-step process with a mission-writing team (click here for the paper):

“The suggested criteria for an effective mission statement are that it:
• Is short and sharply focused
• Is clear and easily understood
• Defines why we do what we do; why the organization exists
• Does not prescribe means
• Is sufficiently broad
• Provides direction for doing the right things
• Addresses our opportunities
• Matches our competence
• Inspires our commitment
• Says what, in the end, we want to be remembered for”

I’ve always thought of a mission statement as that which expresses the mission; the mission is an unspeakable truth, developed in the limbic portion of the brain where there is no language but there is emotion and decision-making.

So what shouldn’t the mission tell you? Sound business practices do not a mission make, and if there are still those out there who believe that “fiscal responsibility” belongs in a mission statement for a nonprofit arts organization, then your arts organization is suffering under the undue weight of that. Because “fiscal responsibility,” like marketing, development, and other sound business practices, is not “what, in the end, we want to be remembered for.”

Don’t get me wrong: fiscal responsibility, without the quotation marks, is extremely important. Just as it is for Bank of America, McDonald’s, Starbucks, JP Morgan Chase, and Fatburger. None of these places would be succeeding without it. But in the nonprofit arts organization, the mission statement should reveal, as best as it can, the simple, elegant thing that drives a collective of people to create art.

The art itself cannot be the mission either. The impact of the art – why it is done and for what effect on whatever is defined as the participants or community – is the thing, not the art itself. “Art for Art’s Sake,” a 19th century idea, described a kind of art that had no need to be presented or shown. If arts organizations have as their commitment a kind of art that has no need to be presented, then the organization is at best moot.

That said, some of the worst mission statements out there can be attributed to arts organizations nationwide. If yours is in here, give me a call, because your worth to the community is being denied by your statement:

• “It is our responsibility to assertively administrate timely deliverables in order to solve business problems.”
• "To satisfy our customers' desires for personal entertainment and information through total customer satisfaction"
• “To produce a season of innovative work with a series of productions as broad and diverse as [our city] itself”
• “To preserve and produce musical theatre of the highest quality”
• “[Name of organization] exists to develop, produce and present live musical theater for the cultural enrichment of the [local community], and to preserve, maintain, and operate the historic and irreplaceable [building in which the artistic activities take place].”
• “to be a regionally recognized and nationally influential center of excellence in family theatre”
• “[Name of organization and then acronym] is an award-winning, nonprofit theater company that seeks to bring vibrant musical theatre to the [local] community. The mission of [acronym] is to impact audiences by producing a range of classic and contemporary musical productions that engage and enhance the overall experience.”
• “To serve the diverse audiences of [our city] by producing and presenting theatre of the highest caliber, by nurturing new artists, by attracting new audiences, and by developing youth outreach and arts education programs.”
• “[Name of organization], [our city]’s oldest and largest not-for-profit theater, has won international renown for the quality of productions, the depth and diversity of artistic leadership, and the excellence of its many community and educational programs. Under the guidance of Artistic Director [that person's name] and Executive Director [that person's name], [name of organization] is committed to producing both classic and contemporary works, giving full voice to a wide range of artists and visions. Central to that mission is the [group of artists associated with the organization], a diverse group of outstanding theater artists whose distinctive visions have given the [organization] an artistic identity of uncommon richness and variety. By dedicating itself to three guiding principles—quality, diversity, and community—[name of organization] seeks to be the premier cultural organization in [our city}, providing productions and programs that make an essential contribution to the quality of life in our city.”
• "[Name of organization]’s mission is to scout profitable growth opportunities in relationships, both internally and externally, in emerging, mission inclusive markets, and explore new paradigms and then filter and communicate and evangelize the findings."
• “To satisfy our customers’ desires for personal entertainment and information through total customer satisfaction”
• “[Name of organization] presents engaging dramatic work that celebrates the intimate relationship among artist, audience and language and, through the exploration of enduring themes, illuminates the shared human experience of our diverse community.”

That said, there are some really valuable mission statements out there as well. If these are yours, let me digitally shake your hand and praise your organization on wanting to do more to help society using art as a powerful tool to do so:

• “to engage audiences in an exchange of ideas that makes us think harder, laugh longer, feel more”
• “[The organization’s} mission is to create theatre so strikingly original in form, content or both, that it instills in young people an enduring awe, love and respect for the medium, thus preserving imagination and wonder, those hallmarks of childhood which are the keys to the future."

It was never meant to apply except as a fun title to this blog, but here is the chorus to Elton John’s “Burn Down the Mission.” I think you’ll see a parallel here, and if not, it’s still a great song.

Burn down the mission
If we're gonna stay alive
Watch the black smoke fly to heaven
See the red flame light the sky
Burn down the mission
Burn it down to stay alive
It's our only chance of living
Take all you need to live inside.

Auctions: The Dave Kingman of Fundraising Activities

I was talking to a good friend in the nonprofit arts business. At one point in the conversation, she starts speaking in low tones as if someone at the next table were a spy.

“We’re in the run-up to our next gala,” she whispered. “There’s no way we can raise the amount of money we have budgeted, not in this climate. There are just too many auctions going on.”

(She even whispered the words “too many auctions” in such hidden tones that it reminded me of how my own family whispered the word when they said that someone was suffering from some form of “cancer.”)

What’s odd is that just about every development professional I’ve met in the last ten years has told me what a nightmare auctions can be. Let me rephrase: those who depend on more than 5% of their annual revenue budgets on one night of a gala are in sheer terror all year long. Those that do it just to have a party and thank donors have a different tack – it’s great if it makes money, but as long as it doesn’t lose money, it’s all right.

But they’re all in the same boat when in comes to putting these fancy parties together. They all get the same things on the high end – a week in a board member’s timeshare; baseball luxury box tickets; and many trips.

A large portion of the trips come from companies who take a heavy slice from the nonprofit’s selling price, reducing the income to nearly zero once all is said and done, but still costing the customer an amount of money perhaps spent elsewhere in the evening. For instance, there was a run on safari trips to South Africa over the last several years. The company who provided them required on average about 80% of the final sold price. So that would mean that a $3000 high bid on a luxury safari (no airfare included) would net the nonprofit $600.

$600 is $600, of course. However, the customer paid $3000. Which means that the customer likely did not spend another $2000 of a nightly budget on items that would have netted 100% of the sale to the nonprofit. Which drives the price down on other items.

Loss leader, you might say, and that is a good point. But what’s really a good point now is that auctions and galas have mostly become old news – development directors across the country have come to dislike the pressure on one night’s earnings, the pressure to provide a great party (and the further reputation-dissing of the development department as “party central”), and the way that their companies are dependent on auctions the way the US is on oil.

In fact, that last part’s a great analogy. The people of the US probably don’t want to continue buying oil from unstable, nutty countries in the Middle East, don’t want to pollute by digging in the Tar Sands in Alberta, and don’t want to risk another explosion in the Gulf or oil tanker accident in Alaska. Only the oil companies and those that serve them really want to keep the world dependent on oil because they make money off it. Similarly, development departments across the US probably don’t want to continue spending thousands of hours of procuring; paying the hyper-inflated prices of venues, caterers, liquor, and entertainment; or risking the budget on a single night that might be a victim of weather, scheduling, a bigger auction elsewhere, or the health and caprice of the auctioneer, biggest donor, or venue operator. Only the companies that benefit from benefits, as it were, have a no-risk win in the scenario of the nonprofit auction.

In Alabama several years ago, following a lead from Baltimore’s Center Stage, my company held its auction in a peculiar venue…the air. It was done over seven hours on the radio and television. In fact, I was the auctioneer for the entire 6 radio hours – no guests, no breaks, one 60 second station break per hour, talking a mile a minute, having a ball. I remember getting a message from one bidder who bid so that I wouldn’t have a coronary right there, live on the radio. We raised about $100,000 on the radio that day. No venue rental, no catering (except pizzas and salads and such for the people on the phone), no tuxedos, no bid cards, no liquor, no gold-embossed invitations. The radio network (with stations all over the state and online) donated the time. The items were almost totally donated, including a new Toyota. It was inventive, and the development director was in heaven.

Of course, that development effort was excellent year round – working with major donors and board members to make contacts, develop relationships, take time, and get influential people to become part of the company’s fabric before asking for a donation, and following up, talking to them about things that had nothing to do with fundraising, asking their ideas (and taking some), and doing all the real work that a good development effort does.

See, that’s the ticket to greatness, not the one-night auction. You can’t swing for the fences as a strategy. You’ll likely end up being the Dave Kingman of the Nonprofit Industry and hit 442 home runs, but also strike out 1,816 times and hit only .236. Not all that productive.

Is this what happened at your last board meeting? (a short horror play)

Act 1. A conference room.

The room has eight chairs and a large table. Corporate posters about teamwork or excellence and the like are on the walls. There is a phone in the middle of the table that serves as a speakerphone. On it are Jim and Bonnie.

At the table are only three people: Susan, Dianne, and Boomer. Susan is at the head of the table; the other two are separated in random chairs. They are waiting. There is an identical pile of paper/information at each chair.

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

I haven’t, you see, I’ve got, well, I’ve got about thirty minutes to give you.

SUSAN

That’s fine, Jim, but –

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

What’s that? Oh hang on. (Muffled, distant) That’s right, Judy, just leave me these…yes…that’s fine. Could you shut the door when you...? Thanks. (back to the room) That was Judy, sorry about that.

SUSAN

That’s fine, Jim, but we –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Is Jim still there?

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

What was that?

SUSAN

Bonnie wanted to know if you were still there. Yes, Bonnie, he’s still there. Now Jim, back to you for a second –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Hiya Jim, how the hell are you? How’s that little quarterback of yours?

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

Bonnie, that you? Hey! Jim Junior’s just fine, just fine, thank you very much.

SUSAN

Jim, before you –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

I love this new technology, don’t you, Jim? I mean now we never have to see each other at all, do we? (laughs)

SUSAN

(still cool, but definitely annoyed) New technology, Bonnie, that’s great. But Jim, we need you to --

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

What’s that, Susan? I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Can’t overlap or else the
entire --

SUSAN

I said, Jim, we need to –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Jim, did you say something? It’s hard to hear you on these conference calls. We should use video conferencing.

BOOMER

Video conferencing? What, like a WebEx thing? We have The Webex at the firm. It works so much better than this old system. Cost-effective, too. State of the art.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

The Webex? Did someone say The Webex? Who said The Webex?

BOOMER

I said “The Webex.”

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Jim, ‘s that you with The Webex?

BOOMER

No, Bonnie, it’s me, Boomer Wyatt. I said The Webex.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Hi Boomer Wyatt! How’s your daddy, Boomer the Fourth?

BOOMER

He’s just fine, Bonnie. Just built a new chapel in his back yard. Really something else. Beautiful, and so respectful at the same time. Used the same design for stonework that they used at the Parthenon.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

The Parthenon? Well, what do you know about that?

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

We just use web cameras.

SUSAN

I’m sorry, Jim?

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

Web cameras. Cost about thirty bucks, and we, you know, clip them onto everyone’s monitor.

SUSAN

What? No, Jim, I mean, can we get –

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

You know, the little round things that clip to the monitor? The ones that look like, well, we all know what they look like.

SUSAN

What? Jim can we get –

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

I say, we all know what those little webcams look like, don’t we?

SUSAN

Webcams? I’m sorry, but Jim and Bonnie, may we get started?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Sure thing, Susan. Everyone there yet?

SUSAN

Well, not everyone. Eleanor’s not here yet. I’m sure she’ll be here any second.

BOOMER

She’s late.

There is a pause.

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

Assholes.

SUSAN AND BOOMER

What?

SUSAN

Jim!

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

That’s what they look like. At least to me.

SUSAN

Jim! What are you talking about?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

(insulted) What did you just call Eleanor??

SUSAN

What? No, Bonnie, no one –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Because I’ve known Eleanor Springs-Portman for more than, what, fifteen years,
and she’s the finest director any arts organization could ever hope for.

SUSAN

No one’s calling Eleanor an asshole.

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

No, not Eleanor, the webcams.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Jim, is that you? I’m surprised at you! Eleanor has never done anything to you.
Why would you call her such an awful thing?

SUSAN

(firmer) No one’s calling Eleanor an asshole.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Honestly, Jim, you just hate women, that’s all. You just hate women.

SUSAN

Bonnie –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

You’re a, you’re a, what’s that word? What’s that word? Miss, Missingenuous, something like that.
That’s what you are.

SUSAN

A misogynist?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

(indignant) No, not that. I know what a misogynist is, Susan. No, you know, the word for a man that hates women.

SUSAN

That’s a misogynist. And I think you misunderstood --

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

I didn’t misunderstand anything, Dr. Susan P. Bond Smartypants. I know what I heard.
And what I heard was Jim calling Eleanor a bad word.

BOOMER

Bonnie, it’s me, Boomer.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

What is it? Is that you, Boomer Wyatt?

BOOMER

Yes, Bonnie, it’s me. Jim was talking about webcams, not Eleanor. He didn’t say anything about Eleanor at all.
What he said was that webcams look like, well, you know, that word.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

What’s that? (pauses as she now understands the truth) Oh, Jim, I’m terribly sorry.

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

That’s all right, Bonnie. Don’t worry about it at all.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Well, I’m just as red as a sugar beet in marinara sauce with a maraschino cherry on top. I’m so sorry, Jim.
Will you please forgive me?

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

Of course, Bonnie. It’s a simple misunderstanding, bound to happen when you do these conference calls.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

That’s so true. (pause) We should use The Webex.

General agreement. Pause. After making a few notes, Susan stops. She checks her watch.

BOOMER

Hey, Bonnie, we’ve missed you at the club. Were you out of town?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

I was out of pocket for 2 weeks at the Henley.

BOOMER

The Henley? As in the Henley Regatta?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Yes, that’s right. Have you heard of it?

BOOMER

Yes, Bonnie, I believe we have. I believe we have heard of the Henley Regatta.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Well, it was just a hoot and a half. We flew off to London nonstop from Atlanta and had ourselves a time. Oh, almost forgot – we, we took a limousine to Wimbledon to catch some of the tennis. Y’ever been to Wimbledon? That’s a hoot, too. Had a delicious bowl of strawberries ‘n’ cream. Mmmm, mmm. But I tell you what, the strawberries are much better right here at home.

SUSAN

Yes, well, Bonnie –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

And I just gotta say, I’m not crazy for the tennis, either. Now football, well, that’s another story. Gimme a Saturday afternoon between the hedges in Athens, Geogia in the fall, do you know what I mean? (new thought) Plus, I couldn’t understand half of what anyone at the tennis club was sayin’. I guess I’m just not real fluent in Wimbledon.

BOOMER

Well, Bonnie, if it makes you feel better, I’m not sure the Queen understands us all that well, either.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

(indignant) Boomer Wyatt, what was that, was that a remark? I swear, Boomer, I think that was a remark!

SUSAN

Bonnie, Boomer –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Boomer Wyatt, you apologize right this instant. Givin’ me a remark like that – ‘f I were there, I’d slap you so hard, your head would spin right off your little neck.

SUSAN

People –

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Susan, you’re sittin’ right there. Was that a remark or what? I think that was a remark.

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

(Egging her on) You tell him, Bonnie! Boy, I wish I could see this. We should really get the Webex.

SUSAN

(angry) Jim! Bonnie! Boomer! Can we get back on track, please! Now Boomer, apologize to Bonnie.

BOOMER

I’m sorry, Bonnie. I didn’t mean anything by it. You know I’m crazy ’bout you.

SUSAN

Now Bonnie, forgive Boomer.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

I forgive you, Boomer. (smiling snarl) Bless your little heart.

SUSAN

(quietly, to Boomer) Well, I don’t know what’s keeping Eleanor. Do you want to start without her?

BOOMER

(quietly) Yes, well, maybe we should.

SUSAN

How much is a quorum?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

What’s that, Susan? A quorum?

SUSAN

Yeah, Bonnie. How many board members do we have?

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

Well, let’s see, there’s Susan, Bonnie, Boomer, and me. That’s four.

SUSAN

Wait a second, let me just count it out off the letterhead. (she does so)
Three, six, eight, nine. Ten, if you include Eleanor.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Eleanor? Is she on the board?

SUSAN

Yes, but it’s ex-officio.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

What’s “ex-officio”? What’s that?

SUSAN

It means she’s, you know, she’s on the board, but no voting privileges.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Oh. Then could you tell me something? Why didn’t you just say that?
Honestly, all you lawyers with your Latin and such.

BOOMER

It’s all about job justification, Bonnie. If y’all can’t understand us, if laws were written so that people could understand them, then y’all wouldn’t need us. And as for the Latin, well, you know, it’s just like the computer folks. They invent an entire industry, add thousands of meaningless words and phrases to the lexicon, and because they’re the only ones who understand them, they get to keep their jobs. Same thing as lawyers. Computer guys. Doctors. Dentists. Football coaches. Accountants. Plumbers…

Eleanor breezes in quickly, chaotically.

ELEANOR

Sorry I’m late, everyone, but I was just handling a major problem we’re having with three of our light instruments, you know, 2 of the Fresnels just shorted out and so did one of the Lekos. Plus, as I may have told you last month, we now have a major seam in the cyc because you know, it’s old, so we’ve got some plates spinning, that’s for sure.

BOOMER

(finishing his thought) ...directors of nonprofit arts organizations.

ELEANOR

(still breathless, with manic chipperness – hands out papers to everyone) Is everyone all right? Susan, Boomer, Dianne, it’s good to see you. And who’s on the phone?

SPEAKERPHONE (BOTH JIM AND BONNIE)

It’s me, Jim./Hi Eleanor, it’s Bonnie!

ELEANOR

Hi Jim, hi Bonnie! I’m so glad you could make it, at least by phone.
You know what? One day, we should really use The Webex.

SUSAN

Yes, well, we’ve covered some of that while you were gone.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

(Chirpy) Yes, Eleanor, I said I thought that, too.

SUSAN

Yes, well. Let’s see, there are now six, including Eleanor, so we have a quorum.
Ladies and gentlemen, shall we get started?

General assent.

SUSAN

Fine, fine. Eleanor, take the minutes, please. And now this meeting will come to order.
First on the agenda: approval of the minutes from last month’s meeting. Do I have a motion?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

So moved.

BOOMER

Second.

SUSAN

Discussion? Fine, all in favor?

ALL

Aye.

SUSAN

Next: a report from the strategic planning committee.

ELEANOR

That’s Sharon. She’s not here. But that’s okay, because we didn’t meet this month anyway.

SUSAN

Okay. Development committee?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

That’s me, Susan!

SUSAN

Well, go ahead, Bonnie.

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Well, we didn’t meet last month either.

SUSAN

Right. Wimbledon. Marketing?

SPEAKERPHONE (JIM)

Marketing met last Wednesday, but no one showed up but me and Eleanor.

SUSAN

Well that’s it for the agenda. Any new business? (pause) Motion to adjourn?

DIANNE

So moved.

SUSAN

Second?

SPEAKERPHONE (BONNIE)

Second.

SUSAN

All in favor?

ALL

Aye.

SUSAN

Meeting is adjourned. Thank you everyone.

No one on stage people gathers up their papers and everyone shouts their goodbyes and leaves quickly.

SUSAN (the last one out)

(leaving) Eleanor, email me the minutes tomorrow morning, will you? Thanks. (exits)

Eleanor sits among a bunch of papers strewn all over the table. After a moment, she gets up and puts the papers into one large pile. She pulls out a blue plastic “recycle paper” can from under the desk and drops the whole pile into the can.

Lights out.

(c) 2011, Alan Harrison