How to Host an Intentional Dinner

[AI-assisted for speed.]

I first learned about intentional dinners from Jennifer McCrea, the best fundraiser I’ve met. Since then, I’ve run a number of them. What follows is the core of the model — with refinements and hacks I’ve added along the way.

Intentional dinners come at the beginning of the second phase of a campaign. The first phase is made up of one-on-one conversations. These are exploratory by design: testing language, testing ideas, and figuring out where the money might lie. This stage is about gauging interest; identifying competitors; surfacing challenges, questions, and threats; and determining whether the idea can happen. It also tees people up — priming them for potential participation.

After that first phase, a decision has to be made: is this worth taking forward? If so, the work shifts into building momentum, creating community, connecting people, and seeding a sense of inevitability and enthusiasm.

The way to start doing that is through intentional dinners.

Purpose & Format

An intentional dinner is not a donor dinner and it’s not a networking event. It is a structured gathering of 10–14 people designed to build connection and engagement around a shared purpose.

The dinner has two anchors:

An opening question, which draws people in through personal storytelling.
A charge, which directs that shared energy into co-creation.

The goal is not to make an ask in the room. The purpose is to spark something memorable and consequential — an evening that builds bonds, launches conversations, and sets the stage for what comes next. It creates the cabal, the conspiracy, the inside group — the team that will carry the ball up the hill, the team that will do the work.

The Opening Question

The opening question is the dinner’s emotional engine. It is the prompt that allows every guest to tell a story of self.

The question should be included in the invitation so guests arrive prepared with a short answer — ninety seconds, maybe two minutes. This ensures every voice is heard and creates a circle, not an audience dynamic.

As the round progresses, later speakers often call back to earlier answers, weaving patterns and building recognition. This is not forced; it happens naturally. By the time the third or fourth person speaks, the group is already constructing a “story of us” out of the collection of “stories of self.”

A strong opening question is values-based, emotionally resonant, and tied to lived experience. It should not invite policy takes or abstractions. It should surface pathos, humanity, and the root of what is really at stake.

Examples:

“Tell us about a moment when someone helped you get where you are today.”
“What’s the first time you realized the power of collective action?”
“What’s a moment in your family’s story where education — or the lack of it — made all the difference?”
“When has illness or caregiving forced you to see things differently than you did before?”

The Charge

If the opening question creates emotional resonance, the charge creates strategic focus. It is the topic sentence of the evening — the reason the group has been convened.

In the invitation, the charge should be framed as the dinner’s purpose: “We’re gathering to figure out / explore / learn about…”

During the dinner itself, the charge is given to the group after the opening circle, once everyone has answered the question and the room has found its shared rhythm. At that point, the Facilitator frames it explicitly: “Our charge tonight is to…”

The charge can take different forms depending on who is in the room:

Figuring out a problem — coming up with plans, coming up with strategies, coming up with ways to do the work.
Learning — sharing knowledge and context across disciplines.
Discussing or analyzing — clarifying stakes or breaking down complexity.
Reviewing — pressure-testing a strategy or initiative.

The charge should be customized to the expertise and readiness of the group. A strong charge ensures the dinner does not stop at solidarity. It produces substance — a sense that people have begun to do the work together.

Key Roles at the Dinner

The Host – The convener who extends invitations and often provides the space.
The Cool Kid – A magnetic figure who anchors the social gravity of the evening. They might be a celebrity, a thought leader, or someone with unique proximity to the work. Their job is to be the coolest person in the room so no one else has to be. Donors don’t want to feel like they’re the standout or the centerpiece — that makes the gathering feel small, like they’re in the wrong place. People want to be surrounded by peers and high-status figures. The Cool Kid sets the tone by holding that role so everyone else can relax into genuine participation.
The Facilitator – The steward of the evening. They set the tone, protect the arc, and keep everyone in the circle. Their touch is light but intentional: seizing on themes, connecting stories, spotlighting insights, and steering without dominating.
The Validator – The person who addresses doubts. Their role is to bless the work as credible, consequential, and anchored in best practice. Validators reassure the table that this is not just trendy talk. They might be an academic, a journalist, or a politician.
The First-Person Voice – The anchor of authenticity. This is someone directly doing, benefiting from, or touched by the work. They prevent the evening from drifting into “talking heads” abstraction and remind everyone that the work is real.
The Next Host – The guest who leaves so energized that they want to replicate the model with their own network. This role can be picked up by anyone — sometimes more than one person — and should be part of your thinking when building the invite list. A successful dinner doesn’t just spark connection in the room; it seeds future gatherings that carry the model forward.

Notes:

One person can hold more than one role.
Sometimes a lead donor naturally steps into one.
Ideally, the nonprofit’s executive director or main program expert does not. They should be a participant, not the official voice.

Physical Space & Logistics

Choose a quiet, intimate setting with one table where everyone can see and hear each other.
Instruct staff to move invisibly: no interruptions, no announcing dishes, no “how’s everything tonight?” moments.
Serve food promptly and keep pacing tight. Protect against the first exit cascade by making sure guests are never left waiting — whether for a course like dessert or for the conversation to pick back up. The evening should conclude when the energy naturally peaks, with the meal already complete.
Plan for 2.5–3 hours total, with the formal conversation beginning within the first 45 minutes.

Flow of the Evening

Arrival & Mingling – Drinks and casual conversation as people arrive, talking one-on-one or in small groups.
Call to the Table – Once everyone has arrived, the Facilitator calls the group together. They explain how the dinner will work, set the tone, and make clear that the group will move through one shared conversation. Often this is paired with a light, self-deprecating remark about the structure (“Thanks for your patience with this — we promise, it works.”).
Opening Question Round – Everyone answers the prepared prompt, sharing their story of self. Tee someone up in advance to go first so they can model the kind of answer you want: short, natural, with a beginning, middle, and end. The goal is to keep stories tight, not droning or dominating. With a group of 12, if people go five or ten minutes each, the evening is gone. The Facilitator’s skill is to keep pacing tight without cutting off a story that has the table fully engaged. (Keep an eye on the clock the entire time — don’t lose the energy.)
The Last Story (First-Person Voice, Validator, or Cool Kid) – One designated person goes last. (Have them sit next to the person you asked to go first so the circle has a natural conclusion.) They share their story of self like everyone else, but they also draw patterns from what has been said — calling out common themes and weaving connections into a “story of us.” Then they pivot into the story of now: teeing up the strategic context for the evening and setting the stage for the Facilitator to introduce the charge and open discussion.
Issuing the Charge – This is where the excitement happens. The structured circle gives way, and people begin to talk freely — making points, feeding off each other, building on ideas. The Facilitator guides the flow, nudging the conversation forward and making sure it doesn’t get stuck. If energy is high, you can even open a light speakers’ list to keep order without dampening momentum. This is not the majority of the evening but it is the plurality — the single largest block of time. Trust that the opening circle has built the energy. It can feel like a blind leap but in practice, once the Facilitator opens the discussion, there are always multiple people eager to jump in immediately.
Crescendo & Closing – The Facilitator brings the dinner to a natural end, on schedule, with the energy still high.

Crescendo & Closing

Here’s the key: do not make the ask in the room.

Ending with a fundraising pitch can pop the bubble. If the first response is hesitation or a low commitment, the whole room deflates — guests shift from shared resonance back into their own calculations and alignment is broken.

Instead, end the dinner as scheduled, with energy in reserve. Guests should leave wanting more — eager to follow up with one another, carrying unfinished conversations and new connections.

The Facilitator’s job, in partnership with the host organization, is to:

Name the energy: “We’ve surfaced something powerful tonight.”
Validate what was shared.
Signal continuity: “This is a starting point — not an ending.”
Make sure the right follow-up happens afterward: introductions, one-on-one conversations, smaller group sessions.

Think of the dinner not as a finish line but as a starting gun.

Why This Works

The opening question builds emotional resonance. The charge directs that resonance into substance. Together, they create an evening that is both moving and useful.

The structure ensures everyone speaks, everyone listens, and everyone leaves feeling part of something real. And by withholding the ask, the energy remains intact and can be channeled more effectively in follow-up.

An intentional dinner works because it does not just create community — it launches a collective effort.