Irish Fundraisers – help the sector
can you take the time out to fill out the Fundraising Ireland survey please. The information helps the entire sector
Thanks
My dream for appreciation
No, I’m not looking for people to appreciate me. So what is this all about.
Well the wonderful Nancy Schwartz asked me if I would be interested in taking part in the Non Profit Blog Carnival this month. I wondered what I would talk about. The topic is ” What’s Your Dream”. So many dreams (lottery wins and that kind of thing) but as I spent a few days thinking more about it I thought about my dream for the sector, and my dream is for more appreciation.
I truly hope that 2012 is the year in which the sector embraces appreciation. I fundamentally believe that organisations that do appreciation well (and not just once) will thrive.
I hope that organisations will be creative in their appreciation, look for novel ways to reach those who support you. Here is an example that I gave to a non profit recently:
Think about all the schools who fundraise for you, all those kids (and parents) who care enough to take the effort to organise an event for you, bring money in, collect and count it and send it to you. What do you do to appreciate them? The answer is probably “we send them a letter” maybe it’s a card. Who cares, it’s generic and impersonal.
Enter dilemma…but we can’t visit all those schools we would be on the road 365.
Get Creative is the answer. Get in touch with the teacher in charge and organise a Skype video call with the class (or entire school). Answer their questions, say thanks. This will take 30 mins of your time.
Imagine how they will feel. Really good I’d say. Critics may suggest this is a bit like an award ceremony acceptance speech via video. Maybe. But it’s a hell of a lot better than just sending a letter.
So that’s my dream for this year, appreciation. More of it. More creative executions of it. So if you are in the mood for appreciation now is the time, answer the call….appoint your own director of appreciation this year.
Thanks for reading
Don’t be scared
This is a post that is totally off the beaten track for this blog. But I don’t think anyone will mind. I worked with this amazing girl, Roisin Whelan. She was just brilliant. She is now doing other things and volunteering with First Fortnight, which is a project to Challenge Mental Health Prejudice, Through Creative Arts. Yesterday she sent me a tweet:
Ye know me and my nerves Conor – Have a read
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So I did….and this was the (brilliant) article
Don’t Be Scared, by Roisin Whelan
Fear. When I close my eyes and imagine what it looks like I see a huge ball of black mála. Right at the top of my chest. When I eat, food has to make its way around it and I have to breathe extra hard just so the air can get to my lungs.
I used to wake up with the fear. No, not the ‘I-was-so-pissed-last-night-I-can’t-remember-what-I-said-to-who-fear. More the ‘I-can’t-get-out-of-bed-I’m-in-a-hole- sorta-fear’. I’m sure the glass of wine the night before didn’t help, but it was never anything in particular that would bring it on, that would make me feel like I was going to spontaneously combust.
I’m great craic. I love my life. I have a brilliant job, an amazing family, lots of sound mates and a boyfriend who’s mad about me. The fear doesn’t really care about that, though. It makes you feel alone, scared and it makes you feel like nobody else gives a shit, that you could stand in the middle of the departures lounge at Dublin airport screaming at the top of your voice ‘Help!’ or ‘Fix me!’ and that nobody would bat an eyelid.
Not that I could have made it to the airport, even with a promise of a trip to Timbuktu. You see, the fear makes you ‘take to the bed’, sometimes for a few days or a week even. Sometimes it still does. And no, my fear isn’t some of ladytime PMT sort of thing, I just suffer with my nerves. I’m not depressed, bipolar or suicidal. I am human.
I used to wonder if I was the only one who ever felt like this, if everyone walked around with a sad and heavy heart? In the end I had to ask for help. I couldn’t be in my own head anymore. I had forgotten who ‘Rois’ was.
So I started going for “the chats”. And I chatted about everything and I cried about everything and about nothing too. In fact, I bawled. And Boy, did it feel good! I cried about not having tax on my car, about my roommate drinking all the milk that morning. I bawled about something horrible my boss had said that day. Silly little things, that were all very important to me.
“The Chats” were my empty page, my empty canvas. I could throw what I liked at it and it stuck, right there for all to see – my thoughts, my fears, my anxieties. On the canvas I could see them clearly too and work through them. In my mind they were a nightmare, on the canvas they were beautiful. So each week I would go and meet this lady, who I knew from Adam, and together I started to find myself and finally I started to feel safe.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing and looking back it’s hard to remember why it was so hard to ask for help, but it was. When I’m sick I go to the doctor. So why is it so different when I have a sad heart? One in four of us will feel overwhelmed by ‘our nerves’ at some point in our lives. What’s worse is that no one wants to talk about it. It’s embarrassing, mortifying. It’s not the done thing. I had cancer once and remember the hush of the c-word when people asked how I was feeling. With mental health and the huge stigma associated with it, there isn’t even that hush. All there is, is silence. Having cancer is scary, talking about it is scarier still but having anxiety or depression is worse. And talking about it? Well, that’s in a whole league of it’s own. Trust me.
I don’t know of any quick fixes or instant cures for the ‘nerves’ Believe me, I’ve asked. But what I do know is this. There is lots and lots of help out there. People genuinely give a shit. They want you to get better. They want you to feel happy. It’s only when you start to talk about it and start to understand it in your own head that you can begin to realize that nothing is ever that bad. It can still be bad. But on those bad days I’ll wake up and the first thing I do is try to be kind to me. I stop giving out to myself. I take a few deep breaths and remember that tomorrow will be better.
Great British Heart Foundation ad
New Drink Aware App?
Well this is a new app I think they should develop!
I think they have done a great job with their recent campaign, which really makes you think about the dilema of driving the day after a night out. From their radio ads I get the point that the “cures” don’t work. And that it takes an hour for a unit of alcohol to leave your system. But that’s where I start to get confused, or a little unclear.
So what if I did have drinks last night, how do I know how the calculations work. Does each new drink start the clock on how long it takes for alcohol to leave my system?
This is where I get confused and this is where I think an app would be a great idea.
Let me submit what I drank, when I started, how often an hour I would have had a drink. What time I stopped and then calculate for me what time I should consider hitting the road at.
I am sure there are legal issues around this, everyone has different metabolisms etc.. But if they were to err on the side of being uber cautious and state that this is just a guide, it could still work. Basically if this thing tells me I shouldnt go near a car until 6pm tonight, isnt that a good thing? It has the potential of keeping people off the road who are still over the limit (therefore a danger) but who think they aren’t because they have been to sleep.
What do you think? Good idea?
Santa: “I don’t do poor countries”
Shocking to think the most generous man in the world…isn’t all that generous.
This is a spot by UNICEF in Sweden.
I came across it on Ad Week. Im open to being challenged on this, but I like it (with one caveat: it would be broadcast when kids won’t be watching).
The ad is made by by Forsman & Bedenfors. We see a lovely Santa checking out presents and then he comes across a gift of medical supplies and he gets, well, a bit sarky about it. He insists that he won’t deliver these kinds of gifts. ”I don’t do poor countries,” he says! It ends with a nice line “We go where Santa doesn’t”
Ad Week summarise it nicely:
His brutal honestly may dampen the mood, but that’s the whole point—getting people to remember that Christmas spirit in many ways extends only as far as a family’s economic circumstances allow. The writing could be sharper in the middle, but the spot, which is wonderfully crafted visually, has a universal message that could apply to families in richer countries, too. Santa doesn’t love poor neighborhoods much, either. In the end, it’s a clever way to bring the season’s most elaborate fiction to bear on the realities of poverty around the world. And the donations it brings will be among the greatest gifts of the season.
Take a look and I would love to hear your thoughts:






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