Joan Garry - Joan Garry's Guide to Nonprofit Leadership

So let's get to it, shall we?

We are who we are because of the families that raised us. My mom passed away just after I submitted the manuscript for the first edition. I found a paper copy of the cover art for the book in her purse about a month later. It looked well worn — like the cashiers at Stop & Shop had probably seen it a few times. It made me smile. If I am smart, feisty and a bit of a dog with a bone about issues that feel important to me, it is because I am my mother's daughter. To steal a line from one of my kids, Thanks for birthing me, Mom .

My dad taught me the power of being a good coach. I saw him in action during years of being his right hand in Little League dugouts. And I admired him. Offering direction, support, and encouragement, he was not just a coach; he was a champion and an educator. A leader. Everyone wanted to be on his team. I was lucky. I was born into his team.

Father Jim Loughran, SJ, of blessed memory, taught my first philosophy class. He challenged me to consider the value of my moral compass, my own intellectual capacity, and the power of inquiry.

We are who we are because of the people who shape our thinking during our journey. Attorneys Paula Ettelbrick and Suzanne Goldberg represented our family in a precedent‐setting case to create a legal connection between our kids and me. These two triggered the activist in me, planting the idea in my head that it was time to get off the sidelines and onto the field.

In 1985, Showtime engaged consultants Joan Goldsmith and Ken Cloke. Joan and Ken were evangelists about making teamwork a reality (not a buzzword) in workplaces. And they taught me about the power of difficult conversations. Much of my work today feels like the baton they passed on to me.

Yes, this was the village that led me from a solid, happy life to a life with real purpose — leading me to the nonprofit sector and never looking back.

During my tenure at GLAAD, I met activists, donors, and volunteers who inspired me to do my best for them. Lessons learned from this journey are too long to list but special thanks to “heart monitor Julie” and the five‐star staff and board who partnered with me to build an organization to last. And I hope you are lucky enough to find someone like Karen Magee to step into a board leadership role. I can talk about the power of that partnership because I speak from experience with Karen.

This book is my chance to reach more people with guidance and direction. My deepest thanks to Scott Paley of Abstract Edge for believing that I had something to say and for working tirelessly to ensure that the message reached far and wide. Without a blog and a podcast (both Scott's idea), there would be no book.

The team at my small but very mighty consulting firm has changed and grown since my first edition. I am so grateful to have a team that is as driven to help the “helpers” as I am. To a person, my team is smart, funny, empathetic, and dedicated. Special thanks to Cindy Pereira who runs what we jokingly call “Joanlandia.” “I think you should update your book, Joan,” she said offhandedly one day. I think it was the next day we had a signed contract. Because that is how Cindy rolls. I'm also deeply grateful to Laura Zielke, the Director of Member Experience for The Nonprofit Leadership Lab. She treats our work together as a vocation and in this, we are kindred spirits. Laura worked closely with me in identifying Lab members whose stories would really bring the lessons to life.

Thank you so much to Arielle Eckstut my “book doctor” and Jim Levine, my agent at Levine Greenberg Rostan Literary Agency. Jim was a nonprofit leader in a former life, and I could not have asked for a better advocate who really understands that nonprofits are messy. And, of course, I am so grateful to my friends and colleagues at Wiley for believing in me.

I am forever grateful to all my clients, members of the Leadership Lab, and the thousands of board and staff leaders who have entrusted their professional development to me and my team through the years. It is a privilege to serve you, and you are all my heroes. Full stop.

Lastly, we are who we are because of the families we create. I never thought I'd be so lucky to have one, and I try never to take it for granted. I keep a small paper note in my desk drawer. It reads simply: You Have A Colorful Family . Amen. Thanks to my three kids — Scout, Ben, and Kit for letting me catch you, raise you, annoy you, amuse you, and love you with all my heart.

And of course, to my legal wife of 7 years and spouse for almost 40, Eileen Opatut. In 1996, she casually suggested I leave the for‐profit sector and apply for a nonprofit executive director job. We had three kids under 7 and had just bought a big house, the perfect time for a new low paying job. She saw, as she always does, what I often miss completely — I was a leader and an advocate ready for a cause. And so began a new chapter in my life. A life that turned from black and white to color the day we met, like Dorothy's arrival in Oz, complete with three munchkins.

I could have killed my development director.

And I don't mean it the way you think.

Julie arrived at a quarterly board meeting, but she didn't look quite right. It was hard not to notice that there was something protruding from her blouse.

A heart monitor.

She flew in from Los Angeles to Chicago, and I flew in from New York. We had not seen each other in a few weeks.

Maybe she mentioned something about doctors’ appointments, but come on. I was leading a nonprofit trying to save a portion of the world. Who has time for the health and well‐being of staff?

Clearly not me.

I'm sure you're wondering. Julie is fine. Today she is a clinical psychologist who no doubt helps clients contend with Type A oblivious bosses who drive their employees to heart problems.

Oh, also in case you are wondering, the board meeting was a big hit. Julie and I were impressive and on our game — as we usually were. I did get a few comments at the breaks like “Hey, how's Julie?” or “Julie looks like the job is taking a toll on her.” “No worries,” I said. And went on to get an A+ on our board meeting presentation.

But wow. Who was I? Why did I not tell Julie to turn on her heels and take the next flight home to Los Angeles?

I am not utterly clueless. I swear. I would never intentionally try to put Julie (or anyone else for that matter) in harm's way.

But nonprofits can cause a person to transform into someone they don't recognize.

Why?

Because nonprofits are messy.

Nonprofits can cause a person to transform into someone they don't recognize.

Why?

Because nonprofits are messy.

It's inherent in the formula of the unique beast we call a 501(c)(3).

A + B + C + a big dose of intense passion = MESSY

1 A poorly paid and overworked group (staff) who…

2 Rely on the efforts of people who get paid nothing (volunteers) and are overseen by…

3 Another group of volunteers who get paid nothing and who are supposed to give and get lots of money (board).

All this is in the service of something that every single one of them cares passionately about. Wow. Now that is a recipe for messy. And that organization you care so deeply about can get messier still if it’s not led and managed well.

I learned the messy lesson the hard way.

What did I know? Fifteen years in corporate America and then poof! I'm running a nonprofit (more on the “poof” part in a few).