Today we hear from someone who attends many nonprofit galas and feels most are about as entertaining as a rubber chicken.

Edith, a longtime Boston resident, has attended countless galas and even planned them for hundreds of people herself. She feels strongly that if you aren’t doing something to entertain your guests, you’re proving that it’s just about the money. Because if galas really wanted to serve their mission, they’d entertain people and give them a reason to invite others next year. 

Boredom at the rubber chicken gala

Edith: There are so many variations of the nonprofit gala, but let me tell you, I have planned them and I have attended them and the theme is to get money. The only question is, in what fashion and how often?

Every time I attend one, I ask myself, how much money are they spending on this event? Is it really our donations putting this on? You see this question at every scale of nonprofit—how much money you’re going to spend to make more? You hope at least they give you an annual report of contributions. 

Consider what we did with the Public Library, where we had authors sit at each table. You’d spend money to sit with the author. Hopefully you’d read the book. But there were ten tables, so sometimes it was a bit random. A friend of mine used to laugh that she never read the books, but others did, so it was always interesting anyway. 

I was on the board of the so-called “Olympics of nonprofits.” We got the moniker because we often received the venue, food, and entertainment for free. We got to use a famous nightclub owner’s place until 9pm on Fridays. We had everyone come, including the mayor, professors, CEOs of healthcare companies. Everyone in the city was willing to stand onstage and read. With a script of course, because not everybody is Robin Williams. And we got the food donated because we’d highlight chefs during the gala.

Most fundraisers I go to are not like that. 

Usually everyone sits around and goes to a “three plop” dinner and calls it a night. It’s boring, nothing’s going on. They just want to acquire the money and the gala is just the loyalty stamp you get for being a part of it.

My pet peeves? Bottlenecks. Literally. No event should be planned where people have to pay for their booze. If you don’t lube these people up, you’re not going to get donors at the auction. If you want people to bid more, pour more. If you don’t, you can forget it, they’re going home to drink. 

Usually there’s issues with the food coming out. The whole event is based around how long it takes courses to arrive. It’s much better if chefs have stations and you can move around, so people get to mingle while they wait. 

But really, some of these galas are as fun as a rubber chicken. You go in, find your table, 30 minutes later you sit down to wait around for bad food. There’s nothing going on. No speech (or a mediocre one, at best). Thank you for being here. It’s cold and breezy. They serve terrible coffee. Then the event is over. This is quite common. Just because I go to them doesn’t mean I like them. I’m there to chit-chat and catch up.

Some donors like predictability. But you’re also looking for younger donors, and entertainment helps blend that hour. When it doesn’t feel like a forgettable drag, events become a chance to grow your organization. People want to bring their friends to the event the following year. It’s cool. It grows. And I think these organizations should always be thinking about how to grow, but they’re not. You can tell.