Dawn Franks

What’s that saying, “If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.” It’s also known as the duck test.

It seems so simple — a straightforward and plausible way of thinking. Yet, the duck test can quickly lead us down wrong paths.

Recently, I experienced a blackout, coming back to consciousness with no memory of how I got from the utility room to where I found myself on the dining room floor. I soon realized I fell face-forward onto the floor as my nose and upper lip began to swell. The first time I glimpsed myself in a mirror 12 hours after the event, I immediately thought it looked like the result of a car wreck without an airbag.

And that’s how I began to describe the condition of my face during two long two weeks of healing. Of course, I’ve just told you what happened. But the car wreck story seems much more plausible. Duck test failure!

Here’s another experience with the duck test. I sat around the table with six executive directors, all representing organizations that served children in one way or another. One question was, “How do you help donors understand your mission and work compared to another organization also serving children. Frustrated, they asked me, “Why can’t the donor figure it out?”

Each director knew their mission by heart, proudly reciting it. But as we went around the table, their mission statements jumbled together, confirming, at least in part, the confusion experienced by donors. The duck test was on the line. Were they all just ducks swimming in the community pond of donors?

The confusion for the donors was so significant that two organizations shared stories of receiving each other’s donations. As far as the donor was concerned, the duck test applied, at least from the outside observers’ view.

A quick history lesson: the original quote dates back to poet James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916). “When I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.”

Doesn’t that sound an awfully lot like something Dr. Seuss might say? We might need him in this conversation to resolve the problem.

In Dr. Seuss book “Oh, The Places You’ll Go,” his message is good for donors: “You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes, you can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.”

Here’s my addition to his direction: Decide what you must, then use the brains in your head to learn more and the feet in your shoes to get what more to know.

Dr. Seuss also has a message for the nonprofit struggling to be clear to donors: “You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish, wild space, headed I fear toward a most useless place. The Waiting Place…everyone is just waiting.”

Dr. Seuss goes on, “On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are. … You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go…So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact….Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right and your left.

And here’s my addition: Be ever so aware of the many strange birds as you go and use the care and great tact to show all you are far and wide.

Donors need to ask, listen and learn. Nonprofits must create descriptions to demonstrate how different they are from all the other birds in the community pond.

Riley might have been the Seuss of his day, authoring more than 1,000 poems. Two of his more popular poems are “Little Orphan Annie” and “The Raggedy Man.” I have a genetic claim on his wisdom since he’s my great-great-great-uncle.

Who will you lean to, Riley or Seuss? Which direction ever you lean, do soon to give and give well.