By Andy Ayers, former Chair of SFT's Board of Directors.

"SFT went through some very tight spots financially while I was Chair of the Board. For the first time, I was faced with the choice of bringing in money to the organization, or watching SFT's efforts fail because of lack of funds. I had no choice but to work on fundraising, because I was Chair; SFT's survival depended, in part, on me--but it depends on you, too."

Being an activist means confronting all kinds of fears. Sometimes it's a fear of public speaking; sometimes it's a fear of confrontation itself. Nothing, however, seems to summon fear and loathing quite like the suggestion of fundraising.

Fundraising is threatening to the ego. We're afraid that it will make us appear parasitic or intrusive. It takes humility to ask others for money, and it takes self-confidence to risk being turned down.

Raising money also tests your ability to explain the Tibetan situation. It's easy to argue intellectually about Tibet or even to raise your fist at a protest. But to make someone want to give money, you have to believe in what you are saying so strongly that the other person will, too.

For these reasons, and many others, most of us find fundraising intimidating. Some secretly believe it's a dirty business, or peripheral to the Tibetan struggle. But the truth is, there are probably as many misconceptions about fundraising among activists as there are about Tibet in the mass media.

The secret of fundraising is that the exchange means as much to the giver as it does to you. Donating to SFT means doing something tangible and precise for Tibet: every dollar funds another fax to the Chinese government, another press release, another poster or sticker provoking questions about Tibet.

Activism is an exchange: you give people knowledge, and they give you a commitment. Sometimes they give you their time and energy, sometimes they give you money. Fundraising requires the same skills as grassroots organizing, because fundamentally, they are the same act: mobilizing people to dedicate their resources to helping Tibet.

That is why raising money is the heart of activism. It's the ultimate form of "spreading the word." You are asking for a sacrifice, and once someone makes that sacrifice, they are committed to working for Tibetan freedom. Fundraising creates the tightest bonds in the network that will eventually free Tibet.

And the good news is, there are many ways to raise money that aren't ego threatening. Try writing letters to other groups on campus, (my chapter got funding from the greens, the Black Student Union and the juggling club), or ask your parents to become SFT members. It's easy - and if every SFTer did it, we'd have four times the budget (read: power!) to fight Tibet's occupation.

Most of the time, fundraising isn't so much a matter of raising money as it is finding money-people want to help, you just need to show them how. Try explaining that SFT is constantly on the verge of going under because of lack of funds. You'll be telling the truth, and you might be surprised how willing most people are to help.

However you do it, finding money for Tibet exercises all of the activist's skills. I still find it frightening. But inside Tibet, people take frightening risks every day. Comparatively, the ego-risks of fundraising look pretty small-and the need for this work couldn't be more urgent.

Raising money is activism. It is grassroots organizing. It only seems inglorious until you think about what it means.

It took me a long time to understand, but I'm starting to realize that raising money is the most important work I've done for Tibet. This week, I'm going to ask five people to become members of SFT.

What's your plan?