Because Words Matter

13 Jan Because Words Matter

14 January 2025

By David Allen, Development for Conservation

I don’t necessarily subscribe to the notion of “language police,” and nothing in this post is intended to be critical of the language YOU use to talk about your projects and programs. Still, words matter and the words we choose sometimes convey meaning we do not intend. This year, as you consider communicating with donors about how their gifts are making a difference, consider the words we all use without thinking and the way they might be heard and interpreted by your readers.

Here are four words I think we should be aware of. I would invite you to add to this word list in the comments section below – What words are you becoming aware of that might benefit from some more intentional consideration?

Educate

In nearly every strategic planning exercise with which I have been involved over the past 20 years, someone has added a strategy or a goal that has something to do with “educating the public.” The underlying frame of reference is that the public doesn’t know what’s good for them or what solutions might be out there for their particular issues and problems. We do! We have science and technology and GIS, and together with two scoops of hubris, we’re well positioned to show them exactly what to do in their own best interest. We just need to educate them.

They just need to be educated.

We barely get away with this in a culture that is predominantly white (not to mention the current political climate trending to anti-science). Many of us have come to understand that we don’t have a chance in Native American communities, but we still believe that African American and Latino cultures are disinterested, apathetic, ignorant, or some combination of all three. Collectively, they (including the ignorant whites) are all “others” needing to be educated.

And our educational offerings are all based on the same premise: find a local expert and have them “teach” us about whatever field they are expert in – usually in the form of classroom-style lectures or guided field explorations. And the people who respond to this type of opportunity are most often educated whites who are comfortable in that environment.

When reaching out into non-white communities, we talk about needing to listen first. Not that it’s bad advice necessarily, but the underlying – “othering” – assumption is that if we listen hard enough, we will find places where we can teach them to use our solutions to fit their problems.

They just need to be educated.

What about the possibility that they might offer a solution to something we’re working on? Are we willing to listen that hard? To approach them as equals? How do we learn to listen for wisdom we can apply for ourselves instead of just ideas that connect to our solutions for them?

What if we changed the language? What if we talked more about “engagement” or even “mutual learning opportunities” instead of education?

Protect

The word “protect,” of course is embedded in everything we do. If land is colored green (or sometimes brown) on a map, we interpret that to mean it is protected. If land is white or some other color, we think of it as a “gap” between protected areas – ie. “unprotected.” In fact, both ideas depend on some amazing assumptions – that land in public or non-profit ownership is protected and that land in private ownership is not.

It turns out to be pretty easy to disprove both. Strip mining, clear-cutting, lethal predator removal, controlled development, and even outright sale of protected properties aren’t completely unheard of on land owned by federal and state agencies. And the strength of land trust conservation easements is certain to be increasingly tested over time.

On the other hand, the Menominee Forest has been sustainably harvested for several hundreds of years by the Native Americans in central Wisconsin. The land is so starkly different from land around it that you can pick out the forest from space.

And talk to western and southwestern ranchers about whether the land that has been in their family’s continuous ownership since the civil war is protected or not.

To be sure, there are “levels of protection,” but as a conservation culture we use the word far too freely and cavalierly.

For one thing “protection” implies a singular act. What we really mean is that the land is in nonprofit or public ownership. And we proudly claim credit for having “protected” land we own in fee, land on which we hold a conservation easement, and land we have conveyed to public institutions. This is part of the reason raising money for land stewardship is so difficult. Why should someone give us money for land that is already “protected?”

Any land steward will tell you that land protection is an ongoing challenge. What if we changed the language? Instead of land that we have “protected,” how would it change perceptions if we talked about land that we are caring for, stewarding, restoring, or managing for habitat – and never even mentioned land that we had protected?

Citizens for Conservation, an Illinois land trust, talks about “saving living spaces for living things.” I like that a lot.

Major Donor

In my view, the word “major” should modify the word “gift” and not the word “donor.” A major gift is a gift that requires thoughtful intention for the donor. It is not one that is given in haste or by force of habit. In this sense, every donor is capable of making a major gift – for them.

Major gift is used in this context as opposed to annual gift (or planned gift). The description is donor centric and describes how the decision gets made. It is independent of the denomination of the gift. One donor’s $5,000 is an annual gift; the decision is made to some degree because of the donor’s giving history. For another donor, the same $5,000 might be a major gift, requiring some intense consideration about the program or project being funded and extensive conversations with a spouse or partner.

And the giving decision is also considerably independent of wealth – at least until you start getting into the mid-five-figure gift range.

The definition of major donor is organization-centric and gets in the way of fundraising. To start with, any threshold we establish for “major donors” is arbitrary by definition. For some organizations, it’s $250. For others it’s $1,000 or even more. But establishing the threshold clouds our thinking about the actual giving decision.

Maybe that $200 gift represented a huge decision for the donor, but instead of meeting it effusively with gratitude, we dismiss it with a form letter acknowledgement. Meanwhile, we roll out the red carpet for the $1,000 another donor gives us, and wonder why the symphony gets $25,000 every year from the same donor.

I have several examples of $10,000 annual donors who have no interest in being cultivated for major gifts.

Think about it.

Landowner

We use the word landowner all the time, and most of the time, it’s completely fine because it describes the literal truth. But what about landowners on whose land we have easements? I would offer a better name for those people.

Conservation Partners.

An easement landowner is too often considered almost as an adversary – someone we tolerate, monitor, and occasionally sue as necessary to prevent them from doing something contrary to our interests.

All of that is necessary; it’s part of the business.

But what if we referred to easement landowners from day one as conservation partners? What if every interaction returned to the agreed-upon conservation values for context instead of potential violations? What if the line below which they signed their name on the monitoring form read: Conservation Partner?

Think about it.

Because words matter.

Cheers and Have a Good Week!

-da

PS: Your comments on these posts are welcomed and warmly requested. If you have not posted a comment before, or if you are using a new email address, please know that there may be a delay in seeing your posted comment. That’s my SPAM defense at work. I approve all comments as soon as I am able during the day.

Photo by Herrcut courtesy of Pixaby.