Minding our manners with the foundation's trustees.

I suppose you could say it was the foundation's equivalent of the green room.

An antechamber of sorts, situated just off the board room. Where all would-be-grantees spent a few minutes in final preparation. Waiting to be summoned into the board room for an official review with the foundation's trustees.

We were there to field questions from the trustees about a rather significant grant request our nonprofit had submitted. If the review went in the right direction, there was a strong possibility the proposal would make the final cut.

A lot was riding on our performance.

That's why the couple stuck their head in the door. Members of the foundation's founding family, they were considered the "junior members" of the trustee board. Both in their early forties. Exquisitely polished professionals. Exemplary citizens in the community. The epitome of our city's new wave of movers and shakers.

Now, with only a few minutes to spare before our review with the trustees, their appearance was on purpose. As raving fans of our nonprofit, they were there to offer words of personal encouragement. Their thumbs up. Reassuring us that we already had their votes on the review of the significant grant request.

They also didn't want our delegation to botch the review. And proceeded to prep us accordingly. Speak only if we are spoken to. Give brief and to-the-point answers. Especially mind our manners with the matriarch of the foundation.

Their latter admonition left our delegation somewhat in a lurch, because, to the person and up to that minute, we were all on our best behavior. We truly had no idea which specific manners we were to mind with the matriarch. Plus, it was now two-o'clock in the afternoon. Time to exit the foundation's green room.

We were ushered into the board room. Regimental is an appropriate word to describe the scene before us.

On one side of the long rectangle conference table were the trustees. Each trustee was standing at attention to the right of their respective chair. Each a leader in their respective sectors of the city. The matriarch was located at the far end of this line-up. She stood as well, to the right of her chair.

And she was regal. Impeccably dressed. With her hands folded gracefully to one side.

Following protocol, it fell to the aforementioned couple---our raving fans---the "junior members" of this assemblage---to introduce each in our delegation to their fellow trustees. Starting with our senior ranking member and ending with me.

Then, one by one, each trustee reached out across the long rectangle conference table. Extending their hands to shake ours. We reciprocated.

There was much shaking of hands.

I was pulling up the rear of our delegation, anticipating the next extended hand of a trustee and already extending mine out as well.

As I came to the matriarch at the far end of the line-up, my hand reflexively initiated the extension. But she did not reciprocate. With her hands still folded gracefully to one side, she stared at me disapprovingly. Let me qualify this---it was an ice-cold stare.

With my faux pas now committed, I took my seat with our delegation and dreaded what was about to unfold.

What unfolded over the next 45 minutes or so was a spectrum of manners.

I'm proud to say that our delegation only spoke when spoken to. Our answers were brief and to-the-point. Other than my faux pas, we minded our manners with the matriarch.

The matriarch asked not one question. She said not one word. Neither did the couple. Our raving fans. The "junior members" of this assemblage.

Several of the other trustees entered into a heated exchange. It concerned an incidental comment one of them had made. Their exchange was embarrassing to watch.

Two in particular seemed terribly disinterested in our proposal under review. I believe one of these two was clipping his fingernails.

A trustee sitting across from me actually fell asleep in his chair.

By the way, this spectrum of manners unfolded close to twenty years ago.

Looking back, I'm thrilled to report that our nonprofit made the final cut. A few months after our review we received the significant grant requested from the foundation.

Now in their early sixties, the couple who cared enough to prep us in the green room probably rank as senior members of the family foundation. I conjecture they've ascended to the top of the trustee hierarchy. Standing to the left of their respective chairs. Sitting around a large round conference table.

Over the years I've followed the couple's other trajectory. They're still exquisitely polished professionals. Exemplary citizens in our community. The epitome of our city's established and seasoned movers and shakers.

And, as word has it, they are still raving fans of the nonprofit. Which, I'm glad to learn, is still on its best behavior.

?Minding its manners.

Follow @JoeMazzu3 on Twitter and Instagram. Visit intentionalconsulting.com to learn more about Joe's consulting business serving nonprofits.