Charity, Done Right?!? So Refreshing (and an example of it done wrong, of course)

If you know me, you’ll understand how much pleasure it gives me to write a rave review for a nonprofit these days. It’s long been the exception to the rule that you encounter a nonprofit marketing itself effectively (save for the charity:water's of the world, of course). So I felt compelled to sing some specific praise for City Harvest.

I arrived home last night after a very over-the-top Broadway production (this is, actually, relevant to my latter example of poor nonprofit marketing) to a nice little mailbox surprise. In addition to the newest Restoration Hardware catalog, which I could write a whole separate entry about (love!), I found myself gawking at a brown paper bag. Was someone sending me that thing you’ve always hoped to NOT receive in your mailbox (think ‘doggy bag’)? No, there was no malice here. Quite the opposite, rather. It was addressed to me from NYC’s City Harvest. Since I have a soft spot for food/wellness related causes (good targeting is another gold star for them here) I’m aware of their name and generally of what they do. Intrigued, I (somewhat carefully) opened my personalized lunch bag.

The contents were quite simple. A letter from the ED, a return-able donation slip, and a Thanksgiving-themed post card. But the messaging was quite powerful: Not everyone has the luxury of easily packing their lunch every day. As a 4-day-a-week brown-bagger, I’m generally boastful of my brining in of leftovers, and wear it as a proud badge of thriftiness. (Not only do I like to cook for myself, I save money with dinner remnants for lunch!) But in this moment, I realized even that was a small fortune.

So they got me. Hook, line and sinker. And as a result they’ll be receiving a donation from me this holiday season (which, I promise, is hard to elicit). Granted they have my sensitivity towards their mission working for them (I believe urban hunger and equal access to healthy food is plaguing our society today), I was truly won over by their tact. I was delighted by the cleverness they applied to direct mail, of all things. But they clearly understand the audience, know a thing or two about competitive separation, and aren’t too rusty on the whole ‘match the message to the medium’ concept. So congrats, City Harvest. I hope I’m not the only one so impressed by your outreach, and that you raise the dollars/support you need to make this a more fulfilling holiday for our neighbors.

Now, because I can’t be mistaken for a hopeless nonprofit optimist (seriously, I’m not!) I must offset this sappiness with a critique. I’ll be brief, but in exchange for my rewarding City Harvest experience, I was subject to a more traditional, and offensively awkward, charitable plea last night as well. At the conclusion of a sub-par Spiderman show, a green goblin stood at the edge of a stage, addressing us all. Using very unrehearsed language, this villain asked the audience for a donation to the Broadway Cares Foundation. Aside from the ridiculous stage attire this man was still wearing, his pitch was nothing the Tony’s would ever bat an eyelash at (isn’t the point of using actors as spokespeople because they’re convincing, even if they’re faking it??) Point is: He was asking a crowd that had just paid some silly amount of money on tickets (and probably intermission refreshments) to just drop a few more bucks on the way out. Who knows how effective this was with the other show-goers, but if you ask me, I’d much rather have the production tack on $5 extra to the price of my ticket during the month of October. Then, maybe, at the end of the performance, thank us all for having contributed a part of our entertainment indulgence to a cause. This gripe has nothing to do with my dislike for the mission of Broadway Cares. It has everything to do with the fact that I think an institution that is, by definition, creative, should be doing a better job at raising the funds they need.

Maybe City Harvest will be generous enough to consult Broadway Cares. And the next time I go to a show I’ll be happy to learn that for a limited time a portion of my $6 diet soda is going to support the hundreds of thousands of men, women and children that Broadway Cares serves.