The Work Doesn’t Pause. How to Keep Asking for Support When War Dominates the Headlines.

The United States is now at war. And while many nonprofit leaders sit with grief, rage, and uncertainty, their organizations are still running payroll. Still feeding people. Still mentoring young organizers. Still coordinating mutual aid drop-offs, preparing lesson plans, and writing grant reports. That’s the contradiction: mourning a world in crisis while holding up the parts that haven’t yet collapsed.

You are not alone if asking for money right now feels wrong. The images are overwhelming. The news cycles are brutal. The silence from some institutions is deafening, while the noise from others is worse. In that context, fundraising might feel like a disruption, or worse, a betrayal. But for the nonprofits doing the work that offers safety, interrupts harm, and protects life, asking for support is not a distraction. It is a political act.

You do not need to apologize for continuing to fundraise while war unfolds. You do not need to delay your campaign, rewrite your mission, or perform a grief you are not ready to speak about. What you need is alignment. What you need is clarity. And what your supporters need is the reminder that your work is not small or separate. It is part of the response.

Fundraising is not neutral. Neither is silence.

Many organizations are afraid of saying the wrong thing. So they say nothing. But silence reads loudly, especially when you are trusted to stand for something. Supporters who have given before, who have read your language about equity, justice, or liberation, are not looking for perfection. They are looking for proof that your values hold under pressure.

That does not mean issuing a statement about geopolitics. It does not mean pretending your work is directly connected to events abroad if it is not. What it does mean is refusing to disappear. If you center your people, your programs, and your purpose, you will not need to contort yourself into commentary. You will already be responding.

You might say:

“We know this is a painful time. The grief is real. And so is the work ahead. We continue to fight for safety, education, and dignity because our people cannot wait for peace to be declared. They need relief now. They need justice now.”

Then make the ask.

Asking is not opportunism. It is survival.

The nonprofit industrial complex has trained too many of us to fundraise politely. To soften language. To avoid discomfort. But there is nothing polite about militarism. Nothing neutral about austerity. Nothing gentle about the systems that are failing your community right now.

If your organization exists to challenge those systems, then asking for resources is not opportunistic. It is how you survive them.

Supporters want to do something. Many feel paralyzed. When you ask for support clearly and directly, you give people an option that feels human, local, and real. Remind them that your work has not paused. And neither has the need.

Do not shrink. Stay steady.

When global violence takes center stage, some organizations try to minimize their own work to avoid seeming self-centered. They cut campaigns short. Strip out urgency. Push timelines. While sensitivity is important, shrinking is not the answer.

There is a difference between being thoughtful and being quiet.

If you are running a food program, say that. If you are mentoring youth, say that. If you are fighting for policy change, say that. Tell the truth about what you are doing, what it costs, and what will happen if it does not get funded. Then give people the chance to act.

Consistency is not performative. It is reassuring. Stay in your voice. Keep your pacing. If you are tired, say so. If you are committed, show it.

The future is still being built. Your work is part of it.

This is not the first time violence has made fundraising feel impossible. It will not be the last. But if you lead a nonprofit that is building alternative systems, serving people pushed to the margins, or advancing work that prioritizes collective care, your fundraising is more than functional. It is ideological.

You are inviting people to invest in a future that is not governed by death, extraction, and power. You are offering something to believe in, even if it is unfinished. Even if it is fragile.

There is no perfect time to ask. But there is always a right way to ask: clearly, honestly, and without apology. That is what this moment demands.