A funder calls...

Twice this week, I or a client have been proactively contacted by a long-forgotten Trust or Foundation, and offered a chance to apply for a share of an invitation-only pot of money.

Twice.

A funder, calling a small charity to offer money? Really?

What were the chances? Not only that a small niche charity would get that kind of call, but also that I'd pick up a phone call on a Saturday afternoon from a random number?

I'm glad I did, because although I haven't worked for that charity for 7 years, a Trust had an underspend. Although the charity had previously fallen just outside their criteria, the Trustees were now permitted to select a cause to sponsor and, crucially, their rules were relaxed to allow priority-adjacent projects.

I've stayed in touch with the charity so it was easy to be the broker and connect this lovely gent with the new fundraiser to take a promising conversation forward and do the necessary paperwork.

BUT My jaw is still dropped.

How many hundreds of applications had this funder seen or considered since we last spoke?

Of all the causes to call with this opportunity, he chose our little project. The quirky, unusual one that didn't quite fit, but we had connected on the phone. We had given each other a little time and consideration way back when, and our conversation had clearly sparked a thought.

He didn't forget us.

So. What can we learn?

Fundraising is sometimes thankless. It can be disheartening. But it can also be entirely, and wonderfully human.

Those of us facing the rise of tech-bro-imposed uniformity and machine-led average algorithmic writing with a deep sense of unease may do well to remember that people give to people.

Connect. And pick up the phone. Make a good case for supporting your charity, but back off politely when they can't help you.

But above all, be memorable.

Ally Rea