Forty Names I Was Terrified to Call
I was surprised when I made the calls.
Forty names. People I knew of — a name on a donor report, a face from an event two years ago — but had never actually spoken to. Jim Holdman, a seasoned fundraiser I was learning from, challenged me to call every name on my top forty list. He warned me not to pay attention to all the reasons I would have for not calling.
On my third call, a woman named Carol picked up, and I could hear the pause. I hear it on almost every first call — that beat of silence where the person on the other end is thinking, Why is this person calling? What do they want? I introduced myself, then rushed to say thank you before the silence stretched any longer. I could still hear the hesitation in her voice. She had no idea who I was or why I was calling.
I thanked her for a gift she’d made the year before, then waited and asked how she’d first gotten connected to the organization. She was surprised by the question — and then appreciative.
It took four minutes.
I grabbed a napkin to dry my hands, said a quick prayer of thanks, and decided to make another call.
I’ve since pulled the reports on what happens after these calls. The pattern holds: We often get a donation within a week — even though I rarely asked for one. I just called, introduced myself, and said thank you.
That’s what I remind myself of when the fear or the procrastination sets in. I pick up the list and make the next call.
The System
Jim’s challenge wasn’t just “call people.” It was a system—and that system made it sustainable.
Each week runs two tracks at once. Early in the week, you call ten people to schedule a real conversation — a coffee, a phone call, a short visit — for the following week. Later in the week, you follow up with the ten people you scheduled last week: either have the actual conversation or close the loop if it didn’t happen.
So, week one, you’re only scheduling. Week two, you’re scheduling ten new conversations and following through on week one’s ten. Week three, same thing, rolling forward. Within a month, you have a standing rhythm of donor contact that doesn’t depend on you feeling brave that day — it depends on the list you made three weeks ago.
I wish I could tell you the fear goes away
It doesn’t.
I have not changed.
What changed is that I learned fundraising, like faith, is a muscle — you have to use it for it to grow.
Skip a week, and the excuses don’t stay the same size. They get bigger. The system exists precisely so you don’t have to out-willpower the fear every single time; you just have to follow the list.
Why the Call Still Matters
Most people find your organization on their own — a friend mentions it, they see a Facebook ad, they land on your website.
That’s self-directed discovery.
When someone responds to an email, shows up to volunteer, or answers a request, they’re doing more than just discovering you.
They’re raising their hand.
They’re telling you, in the only language most donors have, that they want more contact — not less.
Most nonprofits read that hand-raise and respond with more automation. A system deserves a person on the other end. That’s what the phone call is for.
Two Calls Worth Making This Week
If you’re calling a current donor:
Pick up the phone and lead with thank you — no ask, no update, just gratitude.
Ask how they first got involved with your organization.
Ask what excites them most about the work right now.
If the “I don’t have time” voice shows up before you dial, dial anyway. That voice is never right about how the call will go.
If you’re calling someone you’ve met but who isn’t yet a donor:
Remind them where you met — be specific; it’s the difference between a call and a cold call.
Tell them you’d love to host them, and invite them in to see what your organization actually does.
Offer a real next step: a tour, a volunteer shift, an open house.
The same rule applies — shut the excuse down and dial.
It’s Simple. It’s Also Hard.
Fundraising means fighting through the voice that tells you not to call. It means carving out time from a day already full of urgent things for something merely important. We don’t see donors the way we see the people our programs serve. But they both have needs. They both need time.
When you pick up the phone, you open a door. When you listen to the voice that tells you not to, the door stays shut — and a donor who wanted to partner with you never gets the chance to help change something.
Pick ten names this week. That’s the whole system, to start.
If you want help building a fundraising rhythm that actually fits how you’re wired, that’s the work I do at Bold Leading.