Lessons Learned as a Door-to-Door Fund Raiser Help a Women’s Shelter Director Face Today’s Economic Climate

ENTRY LEVEL

CarlLa Horton

Age: 52

First job: Canvasser, Citizens for a Better Environment, Chicago

Current job: Executive director, the Northern Westchester Shelter, Pleasantville, N.Y.

I grew up in a very poor home in Chicago, one in which there was a lot of domestic violence. One of my brothers was killed in a shootout with police and, after my father died, we went on Social Security survivor benefits. However, going on Social Security was a financial step up for my family.

Then, after the riots in the late 1960s, my mother moved us to Oak Park, Ill., and I suddenly found myself attending one of the best public-school systems in the entire state. I was definitely an object of attention: the poor but smart kid in a very wealthy community, and the fact that I even went to college is pretty remarkable. I remember one dean of our high school — Dean Crouse — who asked me a single question that changed my life: Where are you planning on going to college? My mother had never even begun high school, and I’d not given any thought at all to college. Because of his help in finding me scholarships, I graduated from Northern Illinois University with a degree in speech, theater arts, and education.

After college, I’d hoped to be a teacher in an inner-city school in Chicago. But this was the early 1970s and a lot of teaching jobs were handed to men who were trying to avoid being drafted into the Army and being sent to Vietnam. Pretty much all that was open to me was a position as a substitute teacher, which was not what I wanted.

Then I got my first nonprofit job in 1973, as a door-to-door fund raiser for Citizens for a Better Environment. Those of us who were canvassing were expected to knock on the doors of complete strangers and come back with a minimum of $60 a day. If you came back with $59.95, you were presumed to be either incompetent or stealing. So, I learned how to ask for money, but most importantly, I learned how critical it is to be performance-oriented.

Another thing I learned was to be direct and to clearly explain to people what it is you want. For example, I’d ask for a specific amount of money. If I was in a working-class neighborhood, it would be maybe $3, while in a wealthier neighborhood, I’d ask for $20. I also learned to fine-tune my approach and get everything said in 30 seconds or less. I’d say, ‘Hi, my name is CarlLa, and I’m working for Citizens for a Better Environment. We’re the organization that was responsible for setting up a recycling center in your neighborhood, and I’m looking for a contribution of $3,’ or ‘I’m CarlLa Horton with Citizens for a Better Environment, and we’re seeking your support and your signature for this petition, as well as a serious donation of $20 to continue our efforts.’ I quickly learned that if people weren’t interested, it was time to move on.

Citizens for a Better Environment was the organization that made a model out of door-to-door canvassing. Even back then, we were able to raise $250,000 a year — going door-to-door. We also got our Andy Warhol-style 15 minutes of fame after we won a lawsuit in which the U.S. Army was found to have polluted the Joliet River. It’s amazing what a group of hard-working, determined people can accomplish.

Today I run the Northern Westchester Shelter. We’re located in an upscale community in Pleasantville, which is about half an hour north of midtown Manhattan. The shelter is for battered women and children — and I’m sure I’m here today partly because my mother was a battered woman. But we are also a full-service agency that offers legal services, including requests for orders of protections, and help with child custody, support, and supervised visitation of the children. We also have an award-winning program for teenagers called STAR (Students Terminating Abusive Relationships).

My job as executive director is to ensure efficient operations to help our clientele evolve from victims to survivors. When I arrived five years ago, our budget was $511,000, and now it is $1.4-million. But this year has been a hard one, and it doesn’t look any better for the foreseeable future. Immediately after September 11, we had a dramatic drop in donated food and clothing. Last year, the shelter spent about $10,000 on personal items and household supplies, but this year I believe that’s going to come in around $18,000. And the recession hasn’t helped, either.

In spite of the difficulties in raising money, we will find a way to meet the needs of our clients, which, again, is a matter of being performance-oriented. And those needs are many: In this country alone, between 1,500 and 2,000 women die every year as a result of domestic violence.

But even when things are bad, I remind myself that they could be worse: I’m not out walking door-to-door in the pouring rain or with snow soaking my bell-bottoms. I’m not knocking on 60 to 80 houses every evening and, more often than not, getting turned down. When I get discouraged about running a nonprofit in the aftermath of September 11 and dealing with the challenges of budget cuts and seeing the stock market tanking, I remind myself of those early days. But the most important thing I learned — and at a very young age — from Citizens for a Better Environment was that determined people working together can truly make a difference in the world. — As told to Mary E. Medland

How did your first job in the nonprofit field shape your current career? Tell us about it at entrylevel@philanthropy.com.