Why I Write

Not that anyone besides me is counting, but this column represents my 50th such effort for The Chronicle. Over the past four years I’ve reflected on daily life as a college fund raiser, offering opinions wherever possible on how we might improve our lot. All along, readers and colleagues have asked me why I continue to write, why I carve time out of a hectic schedule to do this.

I thought I’d take this golden opportunity to explain myself and, at the same time, reflect a bit more on our nutty profession.

A couple of weeks ago I met with an alumnus who wanted to resuscitate a conversation about establishing a center at my college. He and the former development director here had spoken at length about a center for educational media, which would combine our curricular strengths in communications and teacher training. Alas, the idea fell dormant when the development chief left. I headed to Boston to breathe new life into it.

The alum, Peter, heads a production studio dedicated to (surprise!) educational media. His firm produces children’s videos and advertising campaigns, many of which find their way to TV. My kids are the target ages -- 5, 3, and 2 -- so the content resonated with me. I’ve seen my fair share of children’s shows on Nick Jr., Noggin, and PBS, and I’ve even learned a few Spanish words from Dora the Explorer. This venture, I thought, they’d like.

They would also like the books Peter’s written. Many of his videos originated with his books, which he illustrated as well. The theme of his work remains constant: sparking kids’ creativity and individual expression. Can’t draw? No problem. The triumph is in the trying.

As Peter autographed his latest book for my kids, I considered my own outlets for creative expression. I can’t draw for beans, and I’ve long since given up trying. I play the piano, but only for my personal enjoyment. I sing like an American Idol reject, and I dance like a spastic scarecrow. What I can do, though, is write. Anyone can, really. All you have to do is find the right words and put them in the right order.

In addition to articles for The Chronicle, I write essays, reviews, and features for several other publications. I do it because I have to. Don’t laugh. Many writers will tell you they write because they have to. I think everyone, deep down, craves some form of creative expression. Painters paint. Landscapers landscape. Writers write. We all need to yawp.

But what do fund raisers do? Is development work itself a form of creative expression?

Sure it is. We help bring ideas to life. When a graduate tells us he wants to establish a center for educational media (or whatever), we try to make that happen. When an elderly alumna says she wants to leave a legacy at our institution through a planned gift, we can make that happen. When a faculty member seeks our advice on pursing a foundation grant for a new project, we tell her we can make that happen. We put dreams and opportunities together, we write proposals and concept papers and case statements, and we manufacture campaigns to tell our institutions’ stories.

Dust for fingerprints and you’ll find ours all over the successes that colleges trumpet. We’re the linchpins, the deal brokers, the facilitators, and the mediators. Bridging donor interests with campus strategies is indeed a creative art.

But look closer. See those other fingerprints? They’re not ours. They belong to presidents and provosts and deans and faculty members and volunteers and consultants. Our work is inherently collaborative.

That proposal I wrote? The ideas came from three faculty members, and the dean edited my draft. That six-figure gift I negotiated? A board member got me an appointment, the provost went on the initial visit, and the president came along to close the deal a few months later. And let’s not forget our colleagues in marketing who help us conceptualize and publicize our campaigns.

Teamwork drives development. And that’s the way it should be. We can’t be trusted to do this alone. The ideas and the priorities have to come from others. We follow orders and plans. We need our colleagues on the academic side of the house just as much as they need us.

All that said, what about the notion that fund raising satisfies creative urges? For those who find contentment in collaborative creation, development work represents an ideal outlet. You’ll find a happy home here.

Yet what about those who favor individual expression and the risks and rewards that accompany putting your stamp on something? Will finding other fingerprints on their work dilute their enjoyment? Perhaps. My guess is they’ll have to seek other avenues to satisfy their creative cravings. If you want opportunities to produce something uniquely yours, look elsewhere. That’s what I’ve done.

To be honest, I find myself in both camps. I enjoy the collaborative creative process and have no problem suspending my ego when it comes to sharing credit. But I also pursue writing gigs on the side that I can call my own.

A former adviser told me never to stop writing because I have too much to say. I had no idea at the time what he meant, but now I get it. Call it ego, call it sharing knowledge and insights, or simply call it doing something for a side income, crass as that may sound. For writers, there’s no greater satisfaction than seeing your words in print. Seeing your name alongside them is equally orgiastic.

I suppose that’s why I’ve never hidden under the cloak of anonymity in these columns, even though my honesty has gotten me in hot water a few times. Airing your institution’s dirty laundry, I’ve learned, isn’t always a good way to illustrate a point. I’ve also learned that people have differing definitions of dirty.

So thanks, Peter, for reminding me of the pleasures of self expression. I congratulate you for encouraging such behavior among children Now let’s get busy creating that center you envision.

Thanks, readers, for your e-mail messages and comments over the years. I appreciate the kudos and kvetching in equal measure. Please remember that I don’t pretend to be the last word on development and advancement; I represent merely one voice among the many who have answered this peculiar calling.