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To my granddaughter, Maya, and grandson, Kai, who inspire great hope for a
beautiful future. –C. S.
Proposal Writing
Effective Grantsmanship for Funding
5 Edition
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Copyright © 2017 by SAGE Publications, Inc.
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Names: Coley, Soraya M. (Soraya Moore), author. | Scheinberg, Cynthia A., author.
Title: Proposal writing : effective grantsmanship for funding / Soraya M. Coley, Cynthia A.
Scheinberg.
Description: Fifth edition. | Thousand Oaks, California: SAGE, [2017] | Includes bibliographical
references and index.
16 17 18 19 20 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Brief Contents
1. Preface
2. Chapter 1: An Orientation to Proposal Writing
3. Chapter 2: Understanding the Nonprofit Agency
4. Chapter 3: Finding and Applying for Funding
5. Chapter 4: The Proposal Overview
6. Chapter 5: Logistics and Basics of Writing the Proposal
7. Chapter 6: Design the Program
8. Chapter 7: Program Objectives and Evaluation
9. Chapter 8: Writing the Need or Problem Statement
10. Chapter 9: Program Description
11. Chapter 10: Creating the Budget and Budget Justification
12. Chapter 11: Other Proposal Components and Finishing Touches
13. Appendix A: Estimating Time
14. Appendix B: Funding Resource Information
15. Appendix C: Proposal Sections
16. Appendix D: Additional Information
17. References and Suggested Readings
18. Index
19. About the Authors
Detailed Contents
Preface
Chapter 1: An Orientation to Proposal Writing
A Book for the Beginning Grant Writer
A Brief History of Giving and Philanthropy
Differences Between Grants and Contracts
Request for Proposals (RFP)
Chapter 2: Understanding the Nonprofit Agency
About the Nonprofit
Mission-Driven Analysis of the Agency/Organization
Organizational Capacity
Chapter 3: Finding and Applying for Funding
Finding Funding
The Federal Government
The State and Local Government
The Foundations and Corporations
Crowdsourced Funding
Search and Review
Chapter 4: The Proposal Overview
The Components of a Proposal
Proposal Submission and Scoring Process
Chapter 5: Logistics and Basics of Writing the Proposal
The Nuts and Bolts of Writing a Proposal
Writing for an Established Versus New Organization
Writing a Proposal for a Collaborative
Writing Style and Format
Using Audio/Visual Media
Chapter 6: Design the Program
Understand the Community Through Data
Formulating Program Ideas
Chapter 7: Program Objectives and Evaluation
Evaluation
Four Steps to Preparing the Objectives and Evaluation Plan
A Logic Model
Writing the Evaluation Section
Ethical Considerations
Chapter 8: Writing the Need or Problem Statement
The Aim of the Need/Problem Statement
A Guide to Writing the Need Statement
Theory of Change
Chapter 9: Program Description
Implementation Plan
The Project Narrative
Project Timeline
Scope of Work Forms
Chapter 10: Creating the Budget and Budget Justification
The Budget Context
Preparation of a Line-Item Budget
Other Types of Budgets
Other Budgeting Issues
Chapter 11: Other Proposal Components and Finishing Touches
Project Abstract
Agency Capability Statement
Letters of Support
Memorandum of Understanding (MOU)
Finishing Touches
Appendix A: Estimating Time
Appendix B: Funding Resource Information
Appendix C: Proposal Sections
Appendix D: Additional Information
References and Suggested Readings
Index
About the Authors
Preface
The first four chapters of the book orient the reader to the field of grant
writing: the history of philanthropy, nonprofit organizations and their
purposes, sources of funding and application processes, and an overview of
the contents of a proposal. This structure will allow the user (or teacher) the
flexibility of viewing these foundational materials separately and as needed.
Chapter 5 is a transitional chapter that orients the reader to the task of writing
the proposal and addresses the unique writing challenges when a proposal is
developed within an established organization (that has a history and proven
track record of providing successful services) versus writing for a new
organization. This chapter also addresses the unique demands of writing a
joint, collaborative proposal.
Chapters 6–11 take the reader through the rigorous process of grant writing.
Starting with program development through a step-by-step process that
includes looking at demographic and research data to determine the need for
the program. Addressing community readiness and barriers to services as
well as program sustainability is discussed.
The reader is taken from program design into a very comprehensive crash
course on program evaluation. Readers will learn why it is important to
measure program outcomes, how to measure them, and how to plan an
evaluation design early in the planning process. After this, the reader will
learn how to refine program ideas into objectives and implementation
activities and write them in a format demanded by various funders.
We are grateful for the book’s success and indebted to many people who
have had a hand in improving this edition. The book reflects the input of
faculty, students, and community agency members who have used the book
in the teaching and writing of grants. We have created a book that integrates
their recommendations with our own experiences resulting in an effective
guide to grant writing.
We thank our new editor at SAGE, Nathan Davidson, and previous editor
Kassie Graves, along with Carrie Montoya, formerly Senior Editorial
Assistant for Human Services. We are indebted to outside readers who
provided us with their thoughtful feedback including: Joyce Weil, University
of Northern Colorado, Gerontology Department; Rebecca L. Thomas,
University of Connecticut, School of Social Work; Richard Hoefer,
University of Texas at Arlington, Social Work; Adrian S. Petrescu, Bellevue
University, MPA Program; Brian Nerney, Metropolitan State University;
Christine Hempowicz, University of Bridgeport; James Wolff, Boston
University, School of Public Health; Richard Mushi, PhD, Mississippi Valley
State University; and Sandra Pavelka, Florida Gulf Coast University. We also
thank Lietta Wood for reading and editing early versions of this manuscript.
Finally, we invite you, our reader, to contact us with any thoughts or
suggestions you have to improve this book at
proposalwriting5thed@gmail.com.
1 An Orientation to Proposal Writing
Chapter Topics
Grant writing is often the primary means by which a nonprofit funds its
programs and services. Whether you are a person in a club or association, an
employee in an agency asked to step up and write a grant, or a student taking
a grant writing course, you will be challenged to enter into an open-minded,
critical thinking process that will lead to a completed proposal. In this process
you will be asked to
Once you have learned how to write a state or federal proposal as outlined in
this book you will be able to tackle just about any proposal that comes your
way. Plus, you will find that these skills will help make you a more desirable
employee in the nonprofit sector or lead to a career as a freelance grant writer
taking on projects for a variety of agencies. (For more information on a career
in grant writing, you might want to consult with national organizations
including the Association of Fundraising Professionals [AFP], the Grant
Writers’ Association, the Grant Professionals Association, or the American
Grant Writers’ Association. These associations help establish professional
ethics and resources for grant writers, provide training and certification, and,
in some cases, help individuals find quality jobs.) In all, there are many
things you can do with these skills, and, we believe they are well worth
learning.
The history of giving in the United States has its roots in 16th-century
Elizabethan Poor Laws of England that “were administered through parish
overseers, who provided relief for the aged, sick, and infant poor, as well as
work for the able-bodied in workhouses” (“Poor Law,” 2012). Under the
Poor Laws, persons who were needy through no fault of their own—such as
the elderly, the sick, widows with children, and orphans—were cared for,
while those who were needy but viewed to have caused their need, or
perceived as being able to address their need without assistance, were fairly
ignored. The ignored population included older children/young adults,
pregnant single mothers, and criminals.
The Puritans followed the Elizabethan Poor Law model in caring for needy
members in the community and took up collections in the parishes to meet
those needs. Throughout much of U.S. history, benevolent associations were
created as a kind of community-based insurance plan where individuals
joined the association and paid dues that were used to help a family with
illness or the costs of burial. These associations were established along the
lines of ethnicity, employment, or religious affiliation.
The first grants made by the U.S. government were land grants providing the
opportunity for citizens to obtain property upon which to build a home and
put down roots. Bounty Land Warrants were provided to soldiers in the
Revolutionary War in lieu of financial compensation. The Morrill Act of
1862 provided 30,000 acres of land for each congressional district that
resulted in the creation of 69 colleges such as Cornell University and
Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
The late 1800s and early 1900s marked a period of explosive growth in
strategies to meet community needs. In 1889, Jane Addams founded Hull
House, a settlement house that accepted needy men, women, and children,
and provided a range of services on site and advocacy for improved schools
and services. Jane Addams and Hull House mark the beginning of social
work as a profession in the United States. The following quote illustrates the
struggle that even well-established nonprofit agencies can have in obtaining
consistent funding. In 2012, Hull House is forced to close:
In the early 1900s, the first foundations came into being: The Carnegie
Foundation was founded in 1905 to promote education and is the foundation
that developed and manages grants for higher education known as Pell
Grants. Shortly thereafter, in response to a desire to do something good with
his money, John D. Rockefeller, Sr., established the Rockefeller Foundation
in 1913 with a mission to promote the well-being of humanity around the
world. Just as these foundations were created out of the wealth of individuals,
so it is today with individual, family, and corporate foundations created to
give back to the community per the desire and specifications of the creator.
In 1913, the United States government began collecting income taxes and
grants were made by the federal government to address critical needs and
disasters. The country was well into the Great Depression in 1933 under
Republican President Herbert Hoover. Hoover believed that the depression
would eventually be resolved through legislation that supported businesses
and, ultimately, when business was good, employees would receive the
benefit in increased wages (this is called “trickle-down” economics). In
March 1933, a Democratic president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR) was
elected to office. FDR believed that the country needed more direct
governmental intervention directed to the individual to end the Depression.
Through two terms in office, he created a New Deal with numerous programs
including the Social Security Administration (SSA), the Works Progress
Administration (WPA), the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, the
Securities and Exchange Commission, and the National Labor Relations
Board. These social programs provided jobs for the unemployed, put food on
the family table, and spurred the development of a robust infrastructure of
roads, bridges, dams, and other public works.
The next burst of social programs came in the 1960s under Democratic
President Lyndon B. Johnson’s “Great Society” when there was a flurry of
social programs, including those to address racial injustice and the “War on
Poverty.” The most recent surge in social programs was the American
Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA) signed by President Barack Obama
to provide financial stimulus to the states hit hardest by the Great Recession.
ARRA’s primary purpose is to support social programs and to create jobs
with $831 billion committed between 2009 and 2019.
As you can see, particular social issues come in and out of style and face
reductions or increases in funding based on the politics of the day. There is
true variability in the world of giving. The types of programs funded by
Congress are subject to realignment and changes in the focus of politics.
Differences Between Grants and Contracts
In order to make some initial terms clear, the process of writing a proposal
for funding has come to be known as grant writing and the individual(s)
responsible for the writing of the proposal is a grant writer. The entity
providing the money is called the funder. While it is commonly said that one
writes a proposal to obtain a grant, it may be that the end result is actually a
contract. Be that as it may, we will continue to follow the generally accepted
convention and continue to use the word grant freely throughout this book.
On the other hand, we could imagine that this same clinic has also received a
grant from the CSM Foundation, a corporate funder in the community. The
terms of the corporate grant are that the agency will provide dental care to
100 low-income children. The grant does not quantify the type of care the
children will receive, just that the funds will be used to serve 100 children.
The agency will often receive the full amount of the grant at the beginning of
the fiscal year and will report its progress to the foundation making sure to
note the number of low-income children served.
It is generally true that grants are more flexible in terms of what they will
fund and require less detailed accounting of services than contracts. For
example, a federal funder such as the Department of Health Services will not
reimburse a luncheon for clients, while a private foundation like the Bill and
Melinda Gates Foundation might easily approve the request to celebrate a
milestone in the program and request a brief report on the luncheon event.
The process of seeking funding for the nonprofit agency opens the door to a
rich and fascinating funding world that may include tapping into the altruistic
drives of individual donors, following the vagaries of politics to understand
and tap into governmental funding, and seeking to develop partnerships to
access the wealth and influence of private foundations. The proposal carries
the expression of community need to the funder, and, if successful, results in
a contract for services, a grant-in-aid, or, simply, a grant.
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DANCE ON STILTS AT THE GIRLS’ UNYAGO, NIUCHI
I see increasing reason to believe that the view formed some time
back as to the origin of the Makonde bush is the correct one. I have
no doubt that it is not a natural product, but the result of human
occupation. Those parts of the high country where man—as a very
slight amount of practice enables the eye to perceive at once—has not
yet penetrated with axe and hoe, are still occupied by a splendid
timber forest quite able to sustain a comparison with our mixed
forests in Germany. But wherever man has once built his hut or tilled
his field, this horrible bush springs up. Every phase of this process
may be seen in the course of a couple of hours’ walk along the main
road. From the bush to right or left, one hears the sound of the axe—
not from one spot only, but from several directions at once. A few
steps further on, we can see what is taking place. The brush has been
cut down and piled up in heaps to the height of a yard or more,
between which the trunks of the large trees stand up like the last
pillars of a magnificent ruined building. These, too, present a
melancholy spectacle: the destructive Makonde have ringed them—
cut a broad strip of bark all round to ensure their dying off—and also
piled up pyramids of brush round them. Father and son, mother and
son-in-law, are chopping away perseveringly in the background—too
busy, almost, to look round at the white stranger, who usually excites
so much interest. If you pass by the same place a week later, the piles
of brushwood have disappeared and a thick layer of ashes has taken
the place of the green forest. The large trees stretch their
smouldering trunks and branches in dumb accusation to heaven—if
they have not already fallen and been more or less reduced to ashes,
perhaps only showing as a white stripe on the dark ground.
This work of destruction is carried out by the Makonde alike on the
virgin forest and on the bush which has sprung up on sites already
cultivated and deserted. In the second case they are saved the trouble
of burning the large trees, these being entirely absent in the
secondary bush.
After burning this piece of forest ground and loosening it with the
hoe, the native sows his corn and plants his vegetables. All over the
country, he goes in for bed-culture, which requires, and, in fact,
receives, the most careful attention. Weeds are nowhere tolerated in
the south of German East Africa. The crops may fail on the plains,
where droughts are frequent, but never on the plateau with its
abundant rains and heavy dews. Its fortunate inhabitants even have
the satisfaction of seeing the proud Wayao and Wamakua working
for them as labourers, driven by hunger to serve where they were
accustomed to rule.
But the light, sandy soil is soon exhausted, and would yield no
harvest the second year if cultivated twice running. This fact has
been familiar to the native for ages; consequently he provides in
time, and, while his crop is growing, prepares the next plot with axe
and firebrand. Next year he plants this with his various crops and
lets the first piece lie fallow. For a short time it remains waste and
desolate; then nature steps in to repair the destruction wrought by
man; a thousand new growths spring out of the exhausted soil, and
even the old stumps put forth fresh shoots. Next year the new growth
is up to one’s knees, and in a few years more it is that terrible,
impenetrable bush, which maintains its position till the black
occupier of the land has made the round of all the available sites and
come back to his starting point.
The Makonde are, body and soul, so to speak, one with this bush.
According to my Yao informants, indeed, their name means nothing
else but “bush people.” Their own tradition says that they have been
settled up here for a very long time, but to my surprise they laid great
stress on an original immigration. Their old homes were in the
south-east, near Mikindani and the mouth of the Rovuma, whence
their peaceful forefathers were driven by the continual raids of the
Sakalavas from Madagascar and the warlike Shirazis[47] of the coast,
to take refuge on the almost inaccessible plateau. I have studied
African ethnology for twenty years, but the fact that changes of
population in this apparently quiet and peaceable corner of the earth
could have been occasioned by outside enterprises taking place on
the high seas, was completely new to me. It is, no doubt, however,
correct.
The charming tribal legend of the Makonde—besides informing us
of other interesting matters—explains why they have to live in the
thickest of the bush and a long way from the edge of the plateau,
instead of making their permanent homes beside the purling brooks
and springs of the low country.
“The place where the tribe originated is Mahuta, on the southern
side of the plateau towards the Rovuma, where of old time there was
nothing but thick bush. Out of this bush came a man who never
washed himself or shaved his head, and who ate and drank but little.
He went out and made a human figure from the wood of a tree
growing in the open country, which he took home to his abode in the
bush and there set it upright. In the night this image came to life and
was a woman. The man and woman went down together to the
Rovuma to wash themselves. Here the woman gave birth to a still-
born child. They left that place and passed over the high land into the
valley of the Mbemkuru, where the woman had another child, which
was also born dead. Then they returned to the high bush country of
Mahuta, where the third child was born, which lived and grew up. In
course of time, the couple had many more children, and called
themselves Wamatanda. These were the ancestral stock of the
Makonde, also called Wamakonde,[48] i.e., aborigines. Their
forefather, the man from the bush, gave his children the command to
bury their dead upright, in memory of the mother of their race who
was cut out of wood and awoke to life when standing upright. He also
warned them against settling in the valleys and near large streams,
for sickness and death dwelt there. They were to make it a rule to
have their huts at least an hour’s walk from the nearest watering-
place; then their children would thrive and escape illness.”
The explanation of the name Makonde given by my informants is
somewhat different from that contained in the above legend, which I
extract from a little book (small, but packed with information), by
Pater Adams, entitled Lindi und sein Hinterland. Otherwise, my
results agree exactly with the statements of the legend. Washing?
Hapana—there is no such thing. Why should they do so? As it is, the
supply of water scarcely suffices for cooking and drinking; other
people do not wash, so why should the Makonde distinguish himself
by such needless eccentricity? As for shaving the head, the short,
woolly crop scarcely needs it,[49] so the second ancestral precept is
likewise easy enough to follow. Beyond this, however, there is
nothing ridiculous in the ancestor’s advice. I have obtained from
various local artists a fairly large number of figures carved in wood,
ranging from fifteen to twenty-three inches in height, and
representing women belonging to the great group of the Mavia,
Makonde, and Matambwe tribes. The carving is remarkably well
done and renders the female type with great accuracy, especially the
keloid ornamentation, to be described later on. As to the object and
meaning of their works the sculptors either could or (more probably)
would tell me nothing, and I was forced to content myself with the
scanty information vouchsafed by one man, who said that the figures
were merely intended to represent the nembo—the artificial
deformations of pelele, ear-discs, and keloids. The legend recorded
by Pater Adams places these figures in a new light. They must surely
be more than mere dolls; and we may even venture to assume that
they are—though the majority of present-day Makonde are probably
unaware of the fact—representations of the tribal ancestress.
The references in the legend to the descent from Mahuta to the
Rovuma, and to a journey across the highlands into the Mbekuru
valley, undoubtedly indicate the previous history of the tribe, the
travels of the ancestral pair typifying the migrations of their
descendants. The descent to the neighbouring Rovuma valley, with
its extraordinary fertility and great abundance of game, is intelligible
at a glance—but the crossing of the Lukuledi depression, the ascent
to the Rondo Plateau and the descent to the Mbemkuru, also lie
within the bounds of probability, for all these districts have exactly
the same character as the extreme south. Now, however, comes a
point of especial interest for our bacteriological age. The primitive
Makonde did not enjoy their lives in the marshy river-valleys.
Disease raged among them, and many died. It was only after they
had returned to their original home near Mahuta, that the health
conditions of these people improved. We are very apt to think of the
African as a stupid person whose ignorance of nature is only equalled
by his fear of it, and who looks on all mishaps as caused by evil
spirits and malignant natural powers. It is much more correct to
assume in this case that the people very early learnt to distinguish
districts infested with malaria from those where it is absent.
This knowledge is crystallized in the
ancestral warning against settling in the
valleys and near the great waters, the
dwelling-places of disease and death. At the
same time, for security against the hostile
Mavia south of the Rovuma, it was enacted
that every settlement must be not less than a
certain distance from the southern edge of the
plateau. Such in fact is their mode of life at the
present day. It is not such a bad one, and
certainly they are both safer and more
comfortable than the Makua, the recent
intruders from the south, who have made USUAL METHOD OF
good their footing on the western edge of the CLOSING HUT-DOOR
plateau, extending over a fairly wide belt of
country. Neither Makua nor Makonde show in their dwellings
anything of the size and comeliness of the Yao houses in the plain,
especially at Masasi, Chingulungulu and Zuza’s. Jumbe Chauro, a
Makonde hamlet not far from Newala, on the road to Mahuta, is the
most important settlement of the tribe I have yet seen, and has fairly
spacious huts. But how slovenly is their construction compared with
the palatial residences of the elephant-hunters living in the plain.
The roofs are still more untidy than in the general run of huts during
the dry season, the walls show here and there the scanty beginnings
or the lamentable remains of the mud plastering, and the interior is a
veritable dog-kennel; dirt, dust and disorder everywhere. A few huts
only show any attempt at division into rooms, and this consists
merely of very roughly-made bamboo partitions. In one point alone
have I noticed any indication of progress—in the method of fastening
the door. Houses all over the south are secured in a simple but
ingenious manner. The door consists of a set of stout pieces of wood
or bamboo, tied with bark-string to two cross-pieces, and moving in
two grooves round one of the door-posts, so as to open inwards. If
the owner wishes to leave home, he takes two logs as thick as a man’s
upper arm and about a yard long. One of these is placed obliquely
against the middle of the door from the inside, so as to form an angle
of from 60° to 75° with the ground. He then places the second piece
horizontally across the first, pressing it downward with all his might.
It is kept in place by two strong posts planted in the ground a few
inches inside the door. This fastening is absolutely safe, but of course
cannot be applied to both doors at once, otherwise how could the
owner leave or enter his house? I have not yet succeeded in finding
out how the back door is fastened.