Your Fundraising Is a Crockpot, Not a Microwave (Oh...and it's football season as a Vikings fan. Sigh)
Football is back baby!
And I need you to understand what that means for my household.
It means every Sunday from now through February - or more realistically, through the Vikings’ inevitable and creatively devastating playoff elimination in November - my emotional stability is in the hands of Kyler Murray and a defense I have been told online and by every sports radio talking head to be “the absolute best.”
I have been told things are “the best” before.
I was told this in 1998 before Gary Anderson, who had not missed a field goal ALL SEASON, missed the one that mattered.
I was told this in 2009 before Brett Favre threw an interception that I can still see when I close my eyes.
I was told this before Blair Walsh.
I was told this when we drafted JJ McCarthy.
Before every single heartbreak this franchise has engineered with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker who exclusively makes watches that stop at the worst possible second.
And yet. Here I am. Purple jersey ready to put on. Hope in my heart. Crockpot plugged in for game day chili.
Because being a Vikings fan is not a choice. It’s a chronic condition.
And it’s the same condition that every nonprofit fundraiser has: an irrational, unshakeable belief that THIS year is going to be different, despite a mountain of evidence suggesting otherwise.
And I’ve said this to myself (and my one child who is the other Vikings fan in my home): that irrational belief is your superpower.
In football AND in fundraising.
But superpower or not, you’re gonna need a strategy. And that strategy is not a microwave. It’s a crockpot.
Let me explain.
The Microwave Fundraiser
Every nonprofit has done this. Every single one. Oh don’t you dare pretend you haven’t.
It’s November. The year-end campaign is three weeks away. You haven’t started the appeal. You haven’t called your major donors since, what…March? Maybe? You’re not sure. The board hasn’t been activated. The stewardship calendar you built in January is sitting in a folder you haven’t opened since January.
And so you do the thing.
You microwave it.
You blast an email to your entire list. Same message for everyone. “Dear Friend, the year is almost over, please give.” You throw up a social media post. You maybe send a letter if you can get it to the printer in time. You hold your breath and hope the money shows up.
And sometimes, juuuuuust sometimes, it works. Sort of. At least a little bit that makes it enough to survive.
In football terms, this is the Hail Mary. And yes, I know the Minneapolis Miracle happened. I was there. I cried. It was the single (last) greatest moment of my sports life.
But the Minneapolis Miracle is not a strategy. It happened once. In the history of the franchise. And we act like it’s repeatable. It’s not. You cannot build a season around hoping for a last-second miracle. And you cannot build a fundraising program around hoping that a November email blast will save your year.
That’s microwave fundraising. High heat. Short time. And what you get is burnt edges and a frozen center - an appeal that looks done on the outside but has no warmth, no depth, and no real connection to the people receiving it.
Your donors can taste the difference. Trust me, they know you put too much cumin in at the last second.
The Crockpot Fundraiser
Now let me describe the other approach. The one that doesn’t make good TV but wins championships.
It’s July. Six months before your year-end campaign. And you’re already cooking.
Not furiously. Not frantically. Slowly. On low heat. With intention.
You pulled your LYBUNT list and made calls. Not asks. Calls. “Hey, how are you? Just checking in.”
You sent handwritten notes to your top 20. No reason. Just gratitude. “Thinking about you. Glad you’re part of this.”
You took a board member to coffee. No agenda. Just: “What do you care about? How do you want to help?”
You updated your database. Cleaned the dead records. Sorted your buckets. Did the unsexy work that nobody celebrates but everything depends on.
You told one story about one person whose life changed because of your mission. And you told it well. And you saved it for the appeal.
And then November comes. And instead of microwaving a Hail Mary, you serve a meal that’s been simmering for six months. And it’s rich. And it’s deep. And it’s personal. And your donors can taste every hour of attention you put into it.
That’s crockpot fundraising.
Low heat. Long time. Incredible results.
The teams that win Super Bowls don’t start building in December. They build in the offseason. Training camp. Preseason. OTAs. Film study. The boring, invisible, unglamorous work that nobody sees on SportsCenter but determines the outcome of every game.
(Now that I write this…do the Vikings not do any of this? No…no, they do. We’re just cursed.)
Your fundraising works exactly the same way.
The campaign that succeeds in December was built in July. The donor who gives generously in November was thanked personally in March. The board member who opens a door in October was taken to coffee in August.
The crockpot was plugged in months ago. And now it’s just…ready.
What’s Actually in the Crockpot? (The Ingredients That ABSOLUTELY Matter)
A good crockpot meal doesn’t need 89 ingredients. It needs the right ones, in the right order, with enough time to do their thing.
Same with fundraising. Here’s what goes in the pot:
Relationships (the protein). This is the meat of everything. Phone calls. Coffee meetings. Personal notes. The human connection that makes a donor feel like a partner, not a transaction. Without this, you’ve got vegetable broth. Fine, but nobody’s fighting over it.
Gratitude (the seasoning). Thank-yous. Impact updates. Recognition. The stuff that makes donors FEEL valued, not just informed. Too little and the whole thing is bland. Too much and it’s overwhelming. The right amount, at the right time, makes everything else better.
Consistency (the low heat). This is the part everyone skips. You can’t crank the crockpot to high and expect the same result in half the time. That’s a microwave with a different shape. Consistency means showing up every week. Making the calls every Friday. Sending the notes every month. Not when you feel like it. Not when it’s convenient. Every. Week.
Patience (the time). The crockpot takes 6 to 8 hours. Your fundraising takes 6 to 12 months. The donor you called in March isn’t going to give in March. They’re going to give in November - because you called in March. The relationship needs time to develop. The trust needs time to build. The giving needs time to feel natural, not forced.
That’s it.
Four ingredients.
Relationships, gratitude, consistency, patience.
Put them in the pot, set it to low, and walk away. Check in periodically. Adjust the seasoning.
But don’t open the lid every five minutes. (That’s micromanaging your crockpot, and your crockpot doesn’t appreciate it.)
SOOOOO, here’s why I’m writing this blog right now, in September, with 17 weeks of football ahead of me and 3 months of fundraising season ahead of you.
Because both seasons reward the same things:
Preparation over panic. The teams that win didn’t start game-planning the week of the game. They started in April. Your appeal shouldn’t start in November. It should start now.
Consistency over heroics. Championships are won by teams that play well every week - not teams that play one incredible game and collapse the rest of the season. Your fundraising doesn’t need a miracle. It needs a system.
Trust in the process over trust in the result. The Vikings might break my heart again. Actually, the Vikings WILL break my heart again. That’s what they do. But I still show up every Sunday because the process - the tailgate, the chili, the irrational hope, the community of fellow sufferers - is worth it regardless of the outcome. Your fundraising works the same way.
The process of building relationships, showing gratitude, and being consistent IS the strategy.
The results follow. Eventually.
And one more thing they have in common: you cannot do it alone. A quarterback can’t win without a line. A fundraiser can’t raise without a team. Your board, your volunteers, your community - they’re your offensive line. And you need to let them block for you instead of trying to scramble on every play.
The Game Plan (Because You Know I Can’t Resist)
Here’s your September crockpot game plan. Four plays. Run them this month.
Play 1: Call your Top 20 donors this month. Not to ask. To check in. To say hi. To remind them you’re a human and they’re a human and the relationship exists outside of the November appeal. Set the table before you serve the meal.
Play 2: Draft your appeal NOW. Not in November. Now. The first draft will be ugly. Good. Ugly drafts become good appeals. No drafts become panic emails on Giving Tuesday.
Play 3: Activate one board member this month. Coffee. Menu. One assignment. “Hey, can you introduce me to one person this month who should know about our work?” One person. One introduction. That’s a first down.
Play 4: Plug in the crockpot and walk away. Trust the process. Trust the relationships. Trust that the slow, steady, unglamorous work you’re doing right now is going to produce something extraordinary in December - not because you got lucky, but because you were cooking all along.
Being a Vikings fan has taught me something that applies to every nonprofit professional reading this:
You can love something that breaks your heart and still show up every Sunday.
The budget will be tight. The board will be complicated. The donors will be unpredictable. The printer will make that noise. And your kicker will absolutely miss the kick.
But you’ll plug in the crockpot anyway. Because the mission is worth the slow cook. Because the people you serve are worth the patience. And because somewhere deep in your irrational, unshakeable, stubbornly hopeful nonprofit heart, you believe THIS is the year everything comes together.
And you know what? Maybe it is.
SKOL. (sigh)
Ok, your turn!
Tell me:
Are you a crockpot fundraiser or a microwave fundraiser right now? And what’s one thing you can put in the pot this week that’ll be ready by December?
Also: what’s your game day crockpot recipe? I need new ideas. The chili is good but I’m in a rut. Send me your answer: patrick@dogoodbetterconsulting.com
And if you want help building the crockpot system - the donor call schedules, the stewardship calendars, the appeal templates, the board activating frameworks – that’s what we cook up every week inside Do Good YOUniversity. Low heat. Long time. Incredible results. www.DoGoodYOUniversity.com
Together, we’ve freaking got this.
-Patrick
P.S. My mental health for the next five months is literally in Kyler Murray’s hands. If you see me looking stressed in November, it might be the campaign. It might be the Vikings. It’s probably both. Pray for me. Or better yet - call your donors. At least ONE of us should have a good fourth quarter.
PPSS: By the way, you can still turn your crock pot on high. I know they say Low for 8 hours, but you can totally use the cheat code of “cutting off a few hours” by cranking that bad boy up to 11 for awhile. So, don’t think that it’s too late to rock your fundraising like a boss!
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