Donor fatigue hard to measure for local charities

12/26/05

By SHELLY LEACHMAN
NEWS-PRESS STAFF WRITER

After a disaster-heavy year in which Americans gave in record numbers and staggering dollar amounts to aid agencies worldwide, nonprofits are prey to donor fatigue. But are Santa Barbara charities feeling the pinch? That depends on whom you ask.

Of six agencies surveyed, one has had a banner year, two said their numbers are about average, and three said donations are down. But even the groups that are hurting were reluctant to pin the downturn on donor fatigue.

"It has slowed down a bit from where we were after Katrina," said Jennifer Haake, a public-support specialist with Red Cross of Santa Barbara County. "But we have a larger base of people who have donated since the hurricane than we did in the past. So even though it has slowed down, it's hard to tell if it's fatigue or if people are maybe going to give more in the future."

Tom Reed, executive director of The Unity Shoppe, agreed that donor fatigue is hard to quantify and wondered whether there are other factors at play besides disaster response.

"What would normally be coming in this time of year is down," he said. "Between fuel costs and interest rates everything is going to start costing more, so I think it's going to be an ongoing deal. But donor fatigue based on all the natural disasters around the world? I think it's having an impact, but I'm not sure how to measure it."

Even attempting to measure it would be bad methodology, according to Steen Hudson of the Santa Barbara Rescue Mission, where donations are "slow and steady."

He said donor fatigue is more a matter of perspective. There's no less giving going on, there's more asking, he said, pointing to the "proliferation of nonprofits."

"The fatigue ends up being 'I want to give, and I do give, and I give charitably, but there's only so much that my proverbial emotions can take,'" said Mr. Hudson. "It's not like we've tapped out some limit of giving. It's more, I think, 'Gee, there's another organization that wants my money?' Even Bill and Melinda Gates can't do everything."

Donor fatigue was far worse after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, said Charles Slosser, president of the Santa Barbara Foundation, which disperses donations as grants and aid to area nonprofits. He pointed to a "significant downtown in the economic market" as part of the problem four years ago.

"People really did feel stressed and unsure about the economy. We're not experiencing that right now," he said. "When people feel there are significant needs, and at the same time their own situations are healthy economically, the result is that they give, and they give generously."

They apparently gave generously to the Santa Barbara Foundation this year, which Mr. Slosser said "will probably be one of the foundation's biggest years, in terms of giving, in our history.

"Instead of drinking eggnog they must be drinking Gatorade and getting that extra philanthropic energy," he said of the donor community.

Major energy was directed toward medical aid organization Direct Relief International, which received millions in cash for disaster relief and hasn't seen donor fatigue when it comes to funding its year-round programs or covering operating costs, said communications director Jason Kravitz.

"I think because of how well we communicate with donors to have them understand what we're doing with their money, they in return realized we like to keep DRI's lights on as well," Mr. Kravitz said.

For nonprofit LifeChronicles, which produces keepsake videos for families of those with terminal or life-changing illnesses, the year has been a mixed-moneybag, said founder Kate Carter. Individual donations have been about normal, she said, and they received an astonishing $8,300 in two days after the theft of their donation jar was reported in the News-Press. But coffers overall are low, due to a discouraging grant season.

"It was a blow, but when you believe in what you're doing, you find a way to keep going," said Ms. Carter. "And we're just determined to find a way to keep going."

Whether their year has been good or bad, flush or fatigued, every agency surveyed noted Santa Barbara's long history of generosity and its rank as the Southern California county with the most nonprofit groups per capita -- two things Mr. Slosser said go hand-in-hand.

"Santa Barbara has the nonprofit infrastructure of a major metropolitan area," he said. "But thankfully, to go along with all those nonprofits, we have one of the most generous communities."

Tsunami survivors left struggling one year later

Exactly one year after an Indian Ocean tsunami devastated South Asia, the brand names of aid organizations are emblazoned on banners, tents and water barrels throughout the disaster zone.

But 12 months and billions of donated dollars later, the number of actual aid workers is dwindling as the real reconstruction -- that of the lives of those most affected -- has barely begun.

"Their banners are there, but where's the help?" asked Santa Barbara-based freelance photojournalist Jodie Willard, who spent much of October documenting Direct Relief International efforts in India. "The people were very angry. They feel that they've been left now that it's not newsworthy."

"The need there for assistance, that still remains a year after, is staggering," said Jason Kravitz of Santa Barbara-based aid organization DRI, which in the last year has furnished $50 million in medical supplies and grants to tsunami-recovery efforts.

Myriad DRI projects -- "from rebuilding clinics to providing more insecticide and mosquito nets so malaria is not transmitted" -- are ongoing in the pipeline throughout South Asia, where the agency has so far sent 158 tons of medicine and medical supplies, he said.

DRI staggers relief spending in order to ensure funding for long-term efforts, said Mr. Kravitz, insisting that 100 percent of tsunami-tagged donations will be spent on tsunami-recovery projects. It was the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks here that he said forged the agency's realization that old spending models needed to be upgraded.

"We made a conscious decision that if someone wanted to give us $10 for tsunami relief, they want it to go to the tsunami, not to our utility bill," Mr. Kravitz said.

Of the $50 million, $14.4 million came as cash contributions. About $5 million remains unspent but is earmarked for use in the next six to nine months, said Mr. Kravitz.

In an average year, about 3,000 people donate to DRI. In the year since the tsunami, they've had more than 30,000 donors.

"That is unprecedented support," he said. "It was an all-around outpouring of generosity."

It started in the morning hours of Dec. 26, 2004, when people here were still sleeping off holiday dinners. A 9.3-magnitude earthquake hit offshore from Indonesia, triggering a titanic tsunami that rocked Sumatra and, by the time waters calmed, had wreaked havoc on 12 countries directly. Among the hardest hit were Indonesia, Sri Lanka, India and Thailand.

All told, 231,452 people were left dead or missing, according to the United Nations Development Program. More than 1 million were homeless.

Today, many of those 1 million still live in tent cities erected shortly after the disaster. In India especially, some of those camps sit in water -- it's monsoon season.

Some survivors must still walk great distances to meet a water truck that fills jugs of all shapes, colors and sizes with rations of clean water. Food, as always, is in demand.

"There are people still clearly in survival mode," said Ms. Willard.

Her latest trip was her third journey to South Asia since the disaster, which led her to volunteer and shoot pictures in Sri Lanka, Indonesia's Banda Aceh and throughout India, including on the Andaman and Nicobar islands.

"People are living in a foot and a half of water," she said of families she saw on her recent trip.

"Instead of a big wave it's a smaller amount of water, but it has cobra snakes in it. The recovery is not going that smoothly, from what I saw."

Ms. Willard spoke of a woman she met wading through the water in a survivor camp. The 28-year-old once had six children. "Two had died, another was sick with a staph infection, another was jaundiced and mute," said Ms. Willard. "She said to me, 'I wish I would've been killed by the tsunami because this is worse.' They obviously didn't have enough food and the baby in her arms was too weak to walk."

Helping such families is the ongoing goal of Direct Relief, whose presence Ms. Willard said is palpable and "all over the place" in India. The agency recently cut ribbons on several new medical clinics there.

"We'll be assisting in a much more dramatic way over the next few years because of the vast need," said Mr. Kravitz.

Before and since the tsunami, Alissa Sears of Santa Barbara has given an inordinate amount of assistance to the region. At 23, Ms. Sears is a seasoned humanitarian.

She has worked in Sri Lanka in many capacities -- from teacher and teacher-trainer to volunteer coordinator. The latter role has been her biggest in the last year.

Home when the disaster occurred, Ms. Sears returned to Sri Lanka in January and stayed until May, when unexpected illness brought her back. But she remains active in relief efforts from her home base here, fundraising for various organizations, connecting relief groups to better concentrate their efforts and keeping in contact with aid workers and natives alike in Sri Lanka.

"Put people together across the world and you realize how similar we are, how we are all faced with challenges," Ms. Sears said.

"I had a team of 10 Sri Lankans trying to come over here to help with hurricane relief. When you see that impact, that outflow of just care and admiration and respect for all the different people that had helped ... it's just incredible.

"That's human nature at its finest," she said.

It's a child's nature to smile in the face of adversity, whether they're unaware of the difficulty they face or are simply too young to feel grown-up fear. Regardless, it was that almost reflexive optimism among children that Ms. Willard said struck her strongly as she traveled the still-tattered region.

"Even in the worst circumstances, the kids still have hope and spirit," said Ms. Willard.

"But the adults are tired, worn out. They've lost their land, their belongings, their jobs. It's a year later and they're still so dependent."

JODIE WILLARD PHOTO

Families like this one in India are still living in tents surrounded by water. When they tromp through the water they have to watch for cobras.