Sheila Connolly: Fundraising The Dead

“Yes. We’ve talked about it, and we all agree that you are the best choice, at least for now. You know this place, how it works. You’ve worked with the board. You were crucial to uncovering the thefts and to pushing for a more thorough investigation. And the staff like and trust you-they’ll support you. It’s going to be difficult for a while, but we really need someone like you at the helm.”

My head was spinning. Part of me was screaming in panic: No, I like the job I have, I don’t want the responsibility, I couldn’t possibly be any good at it… And then the spinning stopped and was replaced by a great sense of calm. I had a flashing vision of what this place could be, of what I wanted it to be. And with that came a flood of ideas, things I had wanted to implement, experiment with, and how I could define strategies, work with the board… It was an extraordinary opportunity, and I’d be an idiot not to seize it. I looked Marty in the eye.

“I’m honored by your faith in me. I would be delighted to accept.”

I was stunned. I had never been particularly ambitious, and I’d been happy to work with the people who ran the shop wherever I was. I was a good and dependable lieutenant. But… this?

But, I realized, it made sense. A president represented the place to the public, managed the staff on a macro level, and asked for money. I could do that. Heck, at least if I asked for money as president, I’d have more clout than I did as development director. That was a big plus right there.

Marty and Lewis Howard were both looking at me, so I guessed I was supposed to say something. I stood up and made my way to the head of the table. As I gathered my scattered thoughts, I looked out at the board, at people whom I had known for years, had worked with on events or committees. And I knew they were upset by what had happened-or what they knew about it. They’d never hear all the details, but they didn’t need to. What they wanted to hear now was reassurance, comfort, hope. I could do that.

I cleared my throat and spoke. “Thank you for your confidence in me. We are all here because we care about history, about preserving the evidence of the past so that this generation and future generations don’t lose sight of where they came from. We all know that the course of history is seldom smooth, and that applies to the Society as well.

“A few weeks ago we were happy to celebrate our one hundred twenty-fifth anniversary. While the events in the past weeks have been profoundly troubling, they in no way change who we are, what we do. We are lucky to have identified the problem and found a solution quickly, and I want to believe that this will make us stronger in the future. I think I can guarantee that we’ll be taking a long, hard look at our security procedures.” A laugh rippled through the group. I smiled. “I have a lot of ideas about what we can do, but this is not the time or the place to discuss those. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the coming months. But for now, I want you to know that we can and will weather this, as we have weathered problems in the past, and continue to serve our mission. And thank you for giving me the chance to be part of it.”

I would have sat down, since my knees were a bit wobbly, but I didn’t have a chair at the table. Luckily, Marty stepped forward and resumed command-for now.

“Welcome aboard, Nell. You know you can call on all of us to help you, and we know that, no matter what, you have the best interests of the Society at heart.”

She looked around the table again. “Well, I think we’ve done enough for today. I’ll be in touch about the next meeting-we can’t afford to wait until the quarterly meeting to address a lot of these issues, but I think we can relax. Go home and try to figure out what’s happened, and how we can keep it from happening again. And we’ll deal with whatever publicity comes along, and the fallout from it. Thank you all for coming on short notice. This meeting is adjourned.”

There was a moment of stillness, and then people stood and began gathering their belongings. About half of them approached me, shook my hand, promised to help however they could. I could sense their relief. I nodded, smiled, said things I’d never remember. Time enough to sort things out later-right now I had to avoid looking like a scared rabbit-I needed to project confidence and assurance. I was in charge; they’d said so. That would take getting used to.

Finally everyone had straggled out, and only Marty was left. I didn’t know whether to hug her or kick her.

“You sandbagged me, you know,” I said.

“You handled it beautifully. I knew you would. Admit it-you’re happy about it, right?”

I grinned grudgingly. “I think I will be, when I have a chance to think about it. How did you sell the board on me?”

“Nell, don’t put yourself down. You’ve done a good job here, and, as I said, people trust you. We need continuity, stability more than anything else right now, and you can provide that. You’ve got more common sense than most of the staff and half the board. And you really do care about this place. You’re the best choice, and the board agrees. Don’t worry about the long run-this is temporary, but you do a good job, you’ll be around for a while. Madame President-I like it.”

“One more thing, Marty. I think as my first official act I’d like to establish the Alfred Findley Memorial Fund for Collections Management. I think you’ll be making a substantial contribution to it.”

“Fair enough. Now let’s go celebrate!”