Most people who claim to be grant writers or “involved” in grants don’t actually write proposals. They’re more often engaged in things like grant management, the distribution of grant funds, or development (fund raising), which are important but very different things than grant writing.
Grant writing means you sit down and write a proposal. Grant management means you oversee funding; file reports; help with evaluations; hire staff; and the like. Notice that “write proposals” is not on the list. Also, some people who say they’re involved with grants are actually on the funder side of things, which means they might help write RFPs or evaluate proposals, but again: those skills are very different and of limited use when actually confronted by a proposal in the wild. Someone who writes proposals can of course be involved in grant management, but it seldom goes the other way around; if you’re going to be a grant writer, you have to be able to pass the test Isaac proposed in “Credentials for Grant Writers from the Grant Professionals Certification Institute—If I Only Had A Brain:”
If we ever decide to offer a grant writing credential, we would structure the exam like this: The supplicant will be locked in a windowless room with a computer, a glass of water, one meal and a complex federal RFP. The person will have four hours to complete the needs assessment. If it passes muster, they will get a bathroom break, more water and food and another four hours for the goals/objectives section and so on. At the end of the week, the person will either be dead or a grant writer, at which point we either make them a Department of Education Program Officer (if they’re dead) or give them a pat on the head and a Grant Writing Credential to impress their mothers (if they’ve passed).
You don’t need to pass that kind of arduous test to manage grants, issue RFPs, or review applications.
Last weekend, for example, I met a couple who said they knew a lot about grant writing and were “in” grants. Compared to a random person on the street, they did know a lot: one of them works for a regional government transportation authority and has probably helped disseminate hundreds of millions if not billions of dollars in transportation funding. The other works as a development director for a university. Together, they have about 40 years of combined experience in “grants.” It turns out, however, that neither have ever even once done what I was doing about twenty minutes before I began this post: writing a proposal. Development directors often do everything in the universe to shake money out of donors except write proposals; that may be why we’ve worked for a fair number of development directors over the years. And program officers, who pass out grant funds, might write RFPs, but never the responses.
I wish more people who worked “in” or around grant writing had the experience of actually writing a proposal, because if they had, I suspect we’d get better RFPs. I’m also reminded of the theory / practice divide that arises in so many academic disciplines. Psychology, for example, has a large number of people who do a lot of research but don’t see patients, and a large number who see patients and don’t do research. Naturally, the researchers often think of the practitioners as mere carpenters and the practitioners often think of researchers as mandarins who don’t understand what life on the ground is like. Both are probably somewhat right some of the time.
Something similar happens in English: a lot of English departments these days are bifurcated between the people in “creative writing” and literature. The creative writers—novelists, poets, and so forth—produce the stuff that the literary critics and theorists ultimately discuss; I suspect there, too, the world would be a better place if critics and theorists actually took a serious stab at producing original work. If they did, many might not hold the sometimes implausible opinions they do. They’re like RFP writers who know everything the world about grant writing except what it’s like to stare down a nasty, confused, contradictory RFP. You probably wouldn’t want to eat at a restaurant run by a chef who never tastes his own food, but that’s the situation one often gets with grant writing.
There’s a moral to this story: be wary of people who say they know a lot about grant writing, since they often know a lot about everything but grant writing.
Amen! Hallelujah!
Oh man, I needed to read this! I keep meeting people in my east coast state who work for community colleges as grants administrators for the Perkins grant program. Perkins is an entitlement grant… every school is guaranteed a certain level of funding, as I understand it. These folks work on a Perkins application (which is not the same as a standard competitive grant proposal) for a few weeks out of the year, then spend the rest of their time administering and reporting on the use of the funds. Some call themselves “grantwriters,” but don’t have time (or inclination, or ability) to prepare other grant applications. Thoughts on this? Do you think of Perkins grants as “real” grants?
I started at my NYC-based nonprofit two years ago and quickly became the agency’s sole grant writer, since I was apparently the only one masochistic enough to take on the big government RFP’s.
On the one hand, I like the organizational challenge and the opportunity to work at the intersection of public policy and on-the-ground practice. And a well-written RFP is not only informative but helps you understand your organization’s role in solving a larger problem.
On the other hand, reading enough of those “nasty, confused, contradictory” RFP’s can get pretty demoralizing. You wonder what kind of message it sends that a government agency can’t muster one decent editor.
Lucy: no gov agency has an unlimited budget, so one way of allocating scarce resources is identifying non compliant responses to solicitations. This can be stringent or lax, depending on many agency attributes which are invisible to most proposers (which is another point you might want to follow up on: getting to know those agency people better outside of the solicitation cycle). I’d also warn that ‘entitlement’ in the current budget environment is a bit like a ‘sure bet’ at the casino.
linden: if you knew how little government HR folks screen job applicants for “superior communications skills”, you wouldn’t wonder about the lack of “decent editor[s]” in the government. I’ve seen people passed over for promotion due to not spending their budgets, but never for their editorial weaknesses. “In the kingdom of the blind the one-eyed man is King”, but a bureaucracy has no real kings, only highly stratified layers. If you don’t believe me, take a look at how federal Civil Service performance reform died in Congress because it threatened to destabilize govvie compensation. Horrors: the boss might actually have to rate you on what you comparatively do….
Thank you. I sometimes have time to read Seliger’s, sometimes just to take a quick glance. This very straightforward piece expresses much of my professional frustration with those “experts” at grants who know very little of the reality factors involved in actually producing a grant proposal/application. As a grant writer for more than two decades, seeking and securing funding from governmental agencies as well as private philanthropic organizations, it is refreshing to see someone out there putting forward a professional point of view.
Here, here, Seliger! You said it!