I chuckled self-consciously. “I am SO slow at these.”
“Tell me about it,” the 20-something cashier laughed. A full, sincere laugh. “I can never get them right myself!”
Off I went, smiling. Forever terrible at tapping my credit card in the right location to pay for, well, anything – but newly connected to my friend the cashier by a shared moment of humanity. And it got me thinking about safe places, and how most fundraising writing completely misses this humanity-building opportunity...
Do your fundraising stories need a safe place? (How you can build one with words)
✍️ By Lisa Sargent Fundraising copywriter
March 2025
A great fundraising story is about as close as you can get to
being one-to-one with thousands of your supporters, all at once.
Not focus-group close. Not phone-call close. Not survey-close.
I mean intimate. Personal. Private.
I mean your story – your fundraising letter or email – as it’s read aloud in your supporter’s mind... brought to life through their gift of attention... viewed through the lens of their life and lived experiences.
A lens they might never reveal to anyone. Their true and secret heart.
But this can only happen for supporters if your writing creates a safe place for them to process and act on
some of the most difficult, overwhelming situations on earth... a safe place that lets them know they can give and keep giving, and you won’t let them down.
Here are some safe place builders I use, that you can too...
Tell the Story of One.
I’ve been saying this for over a decade, and I won’t stop now: Tell the Story of One.
You may know of the tragically-named “identifiable victim effect.” It’s the cognitive bias that makes our brain predisposed to help a single person over the faceless masses. (Superb take on this at The Decision Lab.)
If you want to build a safe place for your supporters, you need to focus on your reader: and your reader, the vast majority of the time, prefers the Story of One.
>> How do you tell the Story of
One? This appeal isn’t mine, it belongs to copywriter Jules Brown.
But all on its own, it’s a masterclass in telling the Story of One, and Jules was kind enough to share it on SOFII for all the word to learn. (Those of you who need to keep your stories anonymous, note how Jules handles this in paragraph 5.)
But if your appeals and other comms are hard to read (as judged by your target audience, not you, not your head of marketing, not your board), your communications
are not a safe place.
It’s like trying to hold a therapy meeting in the middle of a crowded sidewalk next to a swarm of selfie-snapping tourists. Too much commotion. Too tough to cut through the noise. No clear voice.
>> Tips on increasing goodwill through readability?
Past Loyalty Letters can help. Have a look at How to Write for Older Donors. If you need to defend your writing, Editing
Session is a good one, too. As is How Long Is Too Long? for formatting and length. All will help you with using formatting to build your readability, and your safe place.
Honor your supporter’s wellbeing.
What do I, a fundraising copywriter, know about the
well-being of anyone’s but my own?
Plenty, as it turns out: and if you ever take The Institute for Sustainable Philanthropy’s course in Philanthropic Psychology, you’ll know lots more about wellbeing too. (The course is not inexpensive. But it’s well worth the investment if you can, set aside time to
study.)
For now, know this – it’s part of self-determination theory: Autonomy. Competence. Connectedness.
To give your supporters a safe place, and increase their wellbeing, your writing needs to help them feel: >>they’re in control of their own behaviors (autonomy)
>> that ‘they’ve made a positive impact’/ effective in
activities they undertake (competence)
>> they’re connected to others/concerned with the welfare of others (connectedness). [Source: PhilPsych course, link above.]
A few ways you can incorporate autonomy? Real-world examples:
Add
an If you can’t give now/You are free to choose statement somewhere in your letter. Such as:
>> You are free to choose a donation of any size for your tribute gift. >> Please don't let a donation be a burden. But I need your help if you can.
>> If you're not able to give at this time, you can still request a card. The animals need all the friends they can
get.
>> And on your donation form, have a My choice of: or I prefer to give: fill-in amount as part of your ask array.
All of these, by the way, diffuse a bias known as reactance. (In the chapter I contributed to Change for Better, I explore ten biases in fundraising. Or, via The Decision Lab again, more here.)
For competence and connectedness, look no further than your supporter newsletters. In appeals, you can also clearly talk about how gifts will help (NOT in a savior way):
Example: One of the most
urgent ways your kind gift of Ask1 or more can make a difference today is by helping families fill the hunger gap left by crisis and climate change, with an emergency food basket.
[Note: connects the supporter to families, creates competence with gift, but not donor-as-hero: the families themselves are filling the hunger gap.]
Add imperfection. (Read as: Be more human.)
Like my inability to tap anywhere remotely close to the right location on a credit card sales terminal, it’s the old sales copywriting adage in action: Show your warts.
If you don’t have all the answers, say so. If supporters are giving to a solution that’s ‘only’ a first step, say that too. If it could take years for families to get back on their feet, or for lifesaving research to be completed, you know
the answer: say so.
Vulnerability and imperfection come from a place of strength, not weakness. And not having all the answers makes you more credible and more relatable, not less. It makes people want to help you.
Two imperfection-in-action examples:
>> We had no guarantees. Only provisional
funding.And a gap remained in what I still hope can become a 24-hour wraparound service.
On that night though, I vowed we would try. In honour of those who hadn’t survived – and for the anxious faces queued outside in the darkness.
[Imperfection? Leader admits to a service not being fully ready to open, but trying anyway to help people who were living on the
streets.]
>> Resources are truly barebones. And in a catastrophic hunger crisis, many might ask why we bother.
The answer is that we believe people’s futures must never be written off or cast to the side.
Today I hope you believe it too.
[Imperfection? Admitting it's a huge problem, with few resources. But signatory refuses to give up,
even to help one life, and welcomes donor into that shared value... we'll explore the power of shared values in a future Loyalty Letter. In themselves, shared values hold huge connective power.]
Be trustworthy.
Trustworthy means worthy of someone's trust. It means being dependable. Consistent. Honest.
You know these instinctively, without my showing
examples:
>> Show up more than once a year, and not just to ask for donations. >> Send your newsletters and thank-yous consistently.
>> Ask for feedback (and be a good listener).
>> Be transparent (say where the money goes, make sure gifts are unrestricted when they need to be, etc.)
>> Mind your permissions – opt-ins, opt-outs, etc. Get contact details correct. (And make sure you have all permissions for
photos and story interviewees.)
Here's what a safe place in your fundraising stories isn't: An apology for asking for donations or help. Fundraising isn't begging.
It’s an invitation to your story... an opportunity for supporters to be generous in whatever is comfortable for them... the chance to right a wrong... an open door to a place where your supporters can feel and read and give with their whole heart –
and their time and humanity will be honored and respected.
May all your stories be the very best they can be... the world depends on it.
