Listening Inward, Leaning Outward
Chapter Leadership Brief 9.19.25
by Brenda Marie Turner
Soprano and CFRE
Fundraising is often described as the “engine” that drives the nonprofit sector forward. But anyone who has done this work knows it’s not just about dollars. Rather, it is about people. And not just the people we serve or the donors we engage, but about ourselves.
I’ve learned over nearly two decades of generosity-matchmaking (and a few more as a professional singer) that one of the most radical, sustaining practices we can embrace is listening to ourselves. Amid deadlines, campaigns, and constant requests to “hop on a call,” it’s easy to ignore the quiet signals. In silence, signals of fatigue, intuition, or even joy guide us toward healthier, more effective leadership. Listening inwards isn’t indulgent. It’s imperative.
As a classically trained soprano, I have spent countless hours preparing for performances. Singing demands a keen ear, not only to the music around me but also the voice within me. If I push past what my body is telling me by ignoring tension, for example, the performance suffers. But when I pause, adjust, and truly listen, the music soars. A bit cliché, I know.
The same is true in fundraising, though. When I’ve ignored my instincts, like saying “yes” to too many projects or chasing dollars instead of alignment, I’ve felt the strain. But when I trust my own voice, I can make decisions that serve both the mission and my well-being.
Let’s be honest, this work can be lonely. We are expected to hold relationships with donors, boards, program staff, and executives. We are bridges between competing needs, translators of impact into dollars, and stewards of both generosity and accountability. When the pressure builds, many of us retreat inward, convinced we must handle it all alone.
But isolation is a trap. Left unchecked, it leads to burnout (I’ve done it more than once), cynicism, and even leaving the field. The antidote, I’ve found, is intentional community. A curated circle of colleagues who don’t just celebrate your wins but who tell you the truth when you need to hear it most.
I am very fortunate to have such a circle. In my musical life, they are [mostly] fellow artists who remind me that my identity is not defined by the last performance, good or bad. On the philanthropy side, they are peers and mentors who remind me that my worth is not tied to my last closed gift.
These truth-tellers don’t flatter; they fortify. They remind me that listening to myself means I am better able to listen to donors, partners, and the communities we serve. They remind me that self-awareness and honesty are not separate from the mechanics of fundraising. Indeed, they are central to its practice.
This is why organizations like AFP, the NYC Chapter on which I am proud to be a board member, the African American Development Officers Network (AADO), where I serve on the conference planning committee, and Women of Color in Fundraising, to which I am a member, matter so deeply. Beyond trainings and conferences, and toolkits, they offer what fundraisers quietly crave: belonging. A chance to sit in a room (or on a Zoom) with people who truly get it. They understand the late-night deadlines, the donor who surprises you with their generosity, the campaign that felt impossible until it wasn’t.
As a singer, I know the joy of joining my voice with others, creating harmonies that are impossible alone. These professional organizations offer the equivalent: a chorus of peers whose collective wisdom, candor, and encouragement sustain us through the most demanding parts of this work and celebrate with us when we reach the other side.
In my own journey, standing on stage one night and leading a donor meeting the next, I’ve found that listening to myself has been the difference between exhaustion and endurance. It is the quiet “no” that preserves my ability to say a wholehearted “yes.” It is the decision to rest before my body forces me to. It is the humility to admit when I need help (I’m still very much working on that last one).
Surrounding myself with a community of truth-tellers – both inside and outside this profession – has sustained me in ways no professional accolade ever could. And in turn, it has made me a more present, creative, and strategic fundraiser.
To my fellow generosity-matchmakers: listen inward. Pay attention to the signals your body, mind, and spirit are giving you. And lean outward. Build your circle of truth-tellers. Join communities like your local AFP chapter not just for what you can learn, but for who you can become in the company of others.
Our sector cannot thrive if its fundraisers do not. And we cannot thrive if we do not listen first to ourselves, then to each other.
Brenda studied classical voice at Stetson University and film at Northwestern University. She has performed professionally in the States and internationally. She has been a soloist at the Berlin Philharmonic, and the Nairobi Girls’ Chorale (Kenya). She has toured with German Pop Sensation Sarah Connor as a backing vocalist and featured artist, toured with Rev. Gregory M. Kelly and The Best of Harlem Gospel as a lead vocalist, and vocally supported a myriad of German stars on televised concerts and variety shows. In 2024, Brenda was invited to sing for the Silver Jubilee of His Royal Majesty Otumfuo Osei Tutu II, King of Ashanti, in Ghana and will return to partner with the University of Ghana in 2025.
Brenda is also a CFRE with nearly two decades of nonprofit fundraising experience. In addition to leading her firm, Turner Divine Consulting, she serves as Director of Regional Philanthropy for Springboard Collaborative, a national nonprofit promoting literacy. She serves on the board of AFP-NYC, on the conference planning committee of the African American Development Officers, and on the advisory board of Stetson University's School of Music.