Knowing Home

Tomorrow we go off the mountain. It has been just over a year since I or my husband has been anywhere except for the four-mile drive to our mailbox once every three weeks.

I have never worn a mask. Or had to social distance. I don’t have a social bubble nor do I need to wash my hands continuously.

I have spoken to three people in person during this year: my husband; Chris, our UPS driver; and Fernando, our FedEx driver. I have said “Happy 4th of July,” “Happy Thanksgiving,” “Merry Christmas,” and “Happy New Year” to Chris and Fernando through closed windows. Oh, and I holler “thank you” and “stay safe” at them when they leave.

Once, the New York Times sent a photographer (who brought her boyfriend with her) out here to take photos of my husband, who had just released a new book and CD. I saw their car and yelled “hello” to them from about 40 feet away. They brought us fresh eggs. I was ecstatic for days. (Not sure if the fresh eggs or the sight of two new people caused that.)

During this year of extreme isolation, I have learned a lot about where I live, and many lessons on how one might live. I now know all of the birds who frequent our bird feeders and bird baths. I know what it is like to live with over a hundred Mountain Bluebirds who depend on you for water. I watched two Say’s Phoebes lay, raise, and set free their young. And then was surprised when they did it all over again! I have come to know this squadron of javelinas that frequents the hillsides; not just the band itself, but each individual since their coats are a dead giveaway as to who is who. I have watched the mule deer give birth and rear their fawns. The herd ebbs and flows—as large as 36 in the herd, and sometimes just a lone doe or buck. I watched the two golden eagles teach a young one how to hunt.

I walked. I walked a lot. Every day I’d take a hike, sometimes down to our pond, sometimes up the hillsides, but often I’d just walk the dirt road from our place up here on the mountain. I learned where the Phainopepla hangs out, and the Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jays. I came to know the mounds where the ground squirrels live, and the tree where the woodpeckers love to pound away. I learned how to read tracks: a rabbit, a mule deer, a javelina, a fox, a bobcat, the ever elusive roadrunner!

It was quiet.

However quiet my day-to-day life was, my work life never missed a beat. GrantStation continued to grow in popularity and mature as a company. I started every day with Morning Rounds, checking in with my staff who are spread out from Spain to Alaska, North Carolina to Oregon, and many places in between. Sometimes after my morning chats with my coworkers, I thought about those javelinas. They always stick together, support one another, yet each has their own unique identity.

I came to realize that these daily check-ins with staff weren’t just about making sure each person was doing okay with the extreme lockdown, but were also my own touchstone. A group of people I already cared about had now become family. And the result of this unique connection with employees? The company itself became stronger and more responsive to our Members and our followers.

One of the things I would say to new hires (no matter what area of the company they worked in) was simply this: If you answer the phone and they have the wrong number, your job is to help them find the right number, even if it is for a competitor. Nothing special, just good, solid customer service. But then, we took it to new heights. I had an "aha" moment one day while watching the two Golden Eagles who nest here on the mountain show their young one the magic of soaring. Could we help our customer services soar higher? Give it wings, so to speak?

And so began a comprehensive review of our entire website making each section more user friendly, and noting each customer comment as if it were the result of a long study. The changes we made (and continue to make) to our website allow our Members to not only identify relevant grantmakers and generate specific strategies, but also help them grasp "the big picture" as they build their grantseeking programs.

While nonprofit organizations and companies across the globe are talking about rethinking, rebuilding, generating a new approach, etc., here at GrantStation we have taken this time to get to know one another better and to identify everyone’s strengths and interests, and have used that knowledge to feed our upward spiral of providing the best information we can to grantseekers across the globe.

A few weeks before Christmas, I was a little grumpy because we wouldn’t have a Christmas tree this year. But then I looked outside. The large pine tree down by our garage was full of bright blue Christmas ornaments. I couldn’t imagine how that could be, so I grabbed my binoculars. Each colored ball was a Mountain Bluebird. I had my Christmas tree! It was a wakeup call, and one I immediately applied to GrantStation: let’s take a look at what is right in front of us. Let’s embrace and build on each bright spot in our company. And that is exactly what we did.

We added a place for our Members to provide comments regarding specific grantmakers (Member Insights). We re-invented the Grants2020 tool and turned it into a Revenue Review and Report tool that helps our Members realize the grant potential for their organizations and prepare reports for their board. We started sending emails to alert Members about changes to their saved grantmaker profiles. We refined the search mechanism for our funder databases. Probably the most obvious thing we did was to launch the COVID-19 funding page, which is open to all who visit our website, not just Members. That page has had over 385,000 page views since its launch in March 2020 and continues to be an important resource for our Members and followers.

But we had to be prudent as we enhanced the website. Judicious was the word that came up a lot. It is easy to add “bells and whistles” rather than practical, needed tools and resources. It was a bit of a balancing act but I think we dodged trying to be fancy or trendy, and settled on making the site as functional and user friendly as possible. It’s like the Say’s Phoebes’ nest, born of a mishmash of grasses, and fur, and even spiderwebs. The component bits aren’t always pretty, but the end result is beautiful in its own way, and most importantly, it works!

We have used this quiet time to get to know our Members and followers, to learn their habits, and to understand their needs. I may not know where they live, how they raise their young, or what they eat (and thank goodness for that!) but I have learned to watch and to listen, as has all of my staff. We are growing a better business to serve the nonprofit sector because of a year of isolation, and observation.

It is quiet, and we are thankful.