Ten years ago when I joined Facebook, I never dreamed social media would be so consequential in our lives or the philanthropic world. And yet here we are. Giving drives, nonprofit updates, invocations to do good, and nonprofit mission statements proliferate on YouTube, Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, and Instagram.
Like most, I am concerned about the exploitation of information and have retreated from the personal use of social media, but I still rely on it for professional exposure. I use several platforms like Facebook and Linkedin, and even Instagram, to keep up with grantees and with the broader philanthropic world.
In the best-case scenario, social media can spur real change and bind us to others with common interests, but in the worst-case scenario, it showcases pettiness and hatred. Online interactions also blur boundaries.
Many of our grantees follow or have friended me on social media and vice versa. These virtual friendships can be both boon and challenge: You are in touch with a vast number of people, but so many layers of ambiguity make it hard to gauge authenticity. In general, I welcome the exchanges and interaction, but a couple of experiences have made me realize the growing need for protocol in this dynamic but complicated space.
After the death of my parents, our family foundation was split into successor foundations. My husband and I created a new mission and narrowed our pool of grantees. We had to drop some long-standing grantees from the original foundation and informed them of this decision in a mailed letter.
A few months later, I attended a lecture and ran into an employee of a nonprofit we no longer supported. Due to a brain fade, I could only remember his last name but knew we were Facebook friends. I crept into a corner to peek at his profile to jog my memory and discovered he had unfriended me. Being unfriended has no significance in the working of the universe, but it does send a message.
This tiny gesture inspired me to reflect. Social media is a baffling circuitry with few behavioral guidelines. I began to wonder how donors and grantees should handle social-media relationships and what kind of etiquette should be in place.
For the sake of this article, I downloaded an app that monitors who follows and unfollows me on Instagram and discovered two things. First, it’s a tedious exercise that I never want to repeat; and second, I noticed that two followers from nonprofits, who used to be an engaged audience for my feed, had unfollowed me.
It’s important to note that my Instagram feed would not electrify everyone; it features my studio, garden, and writing. I am not trekking around the world or hobnobbing with celebrities; there are no glamorous couture shots. So I expect Instagram turnover, but I did note the timing of the recent departures.
These individuals had contacted me six weeks earlier for unsolicited meetings, and I did not reply due to some chaos in my life. I suspect my email silence prompted their withdrawal. Ironically, we were going to ask for a grant submission from one of these organizations, but stumbling upon this tiny detail gave me pause.
I was reminded that social media is a popular, easy place to express resentment and other destructive impulses. And though this resentment, sometimes even serious anger, can come with the donor territory, it never gets easier to deal with. This example demonstrates how easy it is to give in to our lesser impulses on social media.
So how should donors and grantees approach social media? The strategy is simple. If a grantee wants a stronger connection with a donor, approach the relationship with sincerity. The same applies for donors.
Whether you are a philanthropist or a nonprofit professional, if you legitimately like a donor or staff member as a person, notwithstanding the collaboration, and are curious about that person’s life, then connect through social media for the long term. If not, avoid making that connection.
Also, fundraisers should not look for potential donors who are supporting other causes on social media. A friend of mine posted her contribution on Facebook as part of a giving drive to motivate other donors. She was instantly approached by two organizations that were well outside of her giving interests and was taken aback by their lack of boundaries and their assertiveness and assumptions. She decided never to reveal her philanthropy on social media again.
Last year I met an engaging millennial at a dinner party who worked for a small nonprofit. We had a great conversation, and he followed me on Instagram. I followed back. I enjoyed seeing the images he posted and the celebration of his advocacy. Out of curiosity, I started following his nonprofit and then visited its website. I was impressed.
Our correspondence grew, and because he discovered through social media that I write for this publication, he asked for advice on strategic planning. I didn’t feel like I was being hustled, and the cultivation seemed genuine. Eventually my husband and I met with the executive director; we liked the organization and gave it a grant. That was a first, and certainly unusual, but this kind of approach may capture the attention of busy donors if you are telling good stories online, are sincere, and — above all — are patient.
Pettifogging seems to be the political tactic of choice these days, but we all must remember to resist anti-social impulses and use online networks as a force for good and an asset for our causes.
Isa Catto welcomes suggestions for future topics. She is an artist and executive director of the Catto Shaw Foundation and is writing a book about inheritance.
