Don’t be fooled by Carrie Morgridge’s sunny disposition. The high-energy, high net-worth philanthropist knows what she is looking for when deciding where to give: smart, fully committed leadership.
Once Ms. Morgridge signs on to support a charity, her engagement is total, and like so many of today’s wealthy donors, she wants the same from a charity’s leader.
When she has questions, she expects answers, and quickly: “I work 24/7, so the people I invest in the most are responding on Saturdays and Sundays when I’m thinking about things, and they’re responding within an hour, not five days later.”
That kind of commitment is not the only quality Ms. Morgridge values. She also pays attention to how a leader treats his or her employees and the charity’s beneficiaries.
“If anyone ever treats people with disrespect, I pull my money,” says Ms. Morgridge. “These relationships start with trust, but the second I can’t trust you, I’m out.”
Her expectations are not uncommon among top donors. Most affluent philanthropists juggle enormous demands for their time and attention from the many nonprofits they support and for which they serve as volunteers, she says, so staying on top of their philanthropy sometimes requires an exacting approach.
Ms. Morgridge has spent the last 15 years running the Morgridge Family Foundation with her husband, John D. Morgridge. (He is the son of the former chief executive of Cisco, John P. Morgridge, and his wife, Tashia, who are among America’s most generous donors.)
To date, Carrie and John Morgridge have given about $75 million through their fund, primarily to nonprofits in Colorado and Florida, where they have homes. They award $10 million annually and primarily support education (from early childhood all the way through university programs), health and wellness projects, the arts, and conservation.
Ms. Morgridge has mined those years of experience and distilled what she has learned in her new book Every Gift Matters: How Your Passion Can Change the World.
Among the ideas she explores in the book is the notion that donations — she calls them investments — need not be huge to make a difference. Large gifts and big numbers get the most attention, but they can mislead charities into thinking the foundation usually makes grants that big, she says.
“What I really spend most of my time on are the $100,000 and $200,000 grants, but if you didn’t take the time to get to know me, you wouldn’t know that,” she says.
Some of those smaller donations have included $154,655 to Book Trust, a Denver group that provides free books to underserved children, and a $3,200 grant to Harvest of Hope, a Boulder, Colo., food pantry.
Getting Along
Regardless of the size of a donation, she says, it is crucial that charity leaders and philanthropists get to know each other. The Morgridges build a relationship with charity officials before they make a gift. For example, Ms. Morgridge sat on the board of the Denver Museum of Nature & Science for three years before giving it $8-million. A mountain-biking and marathon enthusiast, Ms. Morgridge ran with the chief executive of National Jewish Health and attended the nonprofit’s events for five years before giving it $15 million.
The Morgridges are not always so methodical; they might give when they see an immediate need or become excited about a new program.
Though the fund doesn’t accept unsolicited grant proposals, Ms. Morgridge says, it reserves $1 million of its giving each year for occasional surprise beneficiaries: “We set aside 10 percent in case something awesome comes across our desks that we didn’t know about.”
She also frequently visits a charity’s offices and the places where it works. And she never goes without taking along others with expertise in the cause or whose judgment she trusts.
“I may hear something different than what somebody else hears, and that is so important,” says Mr. Morgridge. “If we’re tackling homelessness and hunger, I’ll bring along the food-pantry CEO and four other people to come look and ask them if this is a viable project.”
Practical as they may be, site visits also serve as a reminder for this donor about why she gives.
“I’m dedicated to so many causes because they give me purpose,” says Ms. Morgridge. “I’m fulfilled each and every day, knowing every day when I’m talking to [a charity], they’re sharing the stories of people they help. That’s a blessing to me, and that’s what keeps me going.”
Fundraisers Overstep
Sometimes, though, site visits have lead to a different consequence, such as when an unthinking or overzealous fundraiser oversteps a boundary.
One of the quickest ways a fundraiser can alienate a philanthropist like Ms. Morgridge, she says, is by asking for more money than a donor is comfortable giving or by pushing too hard for successive gifts.
She points to one particularly galling example: Some years ago her foundation gave a children’s hospital a $1-million grant that was paid off over five years. The fund’s giving budget was smaller then, and the Morgridges viewed the gift as a significant one.
The very day Ms. Morgridge made the final payment, she says, the fundraiser started hounding her about meeting for lunch. She sensed the fundraiser was going to ask for another gift, so she declined. He then asked her to come in for another site visit, which she accepted.
“When I did the site visit, he pulled out another grant request and said he really needed my help,” says Ms. Morgridge. “I’d just paid off my million-dollar commitment, and here he is with another request.”
Even after complaining about the aggressive approach to hospital higher-ups, the organization’s officials continued to push her for more support. The result? The couple stopped giving to the hospital.
“It’s an excellent organization. They do great work, but it’s the way they asked,” says Ms. Morgridge. “That person was such a knucklehead.”
