By Esther Saehyun Lee, CCF fundraisers through the good times and the bad
Community-Centric Fundraising (CCF) isn’t a framework I adopted as a nice-to-have; it was critical for me to locate myself in this work.
It’s time to locate ourselves in this movement, now more than ever
I didn’t fall into fundraising.
I actually tried to reject this career path.
I couldn’t see my purpose in this sector.
Despite having a career coach advise me that this was a sector that aligned with my values and my skillset, I tried to refuse. I thought, (both correctly and incorrectly), that fundraising was about pandering to powerful, rich, and mostly white people. Then, the pandemic happened. And I had lost my job and paid off my loans, all in the same day. And I thought, maybe I will try out fundraising.
Reading books telling me how many you’s I should place, how I should pander to donors, etc., felt like I made a mistake.
There was no lens to examine the power dynamics between fundraiser and donor, no discussion of how wealth is inequitably accumulated, no critical examination of the unprincipled hoarding of wealth and power and how this sector is used to leverage this while maintaining a guise of altruism.
I was getting frustrated with this until I came across Vu Le’s article on white supremacy and the problem with centering donors’ interests and emotions. Then I felt I understood how I could belong to this sector.
It wasn’t until this moment that my studies for fundraising became a critical examination of how this industry practice excluded BIPOC and perpetuated white supremacy.
All this to say, Community-Centric Fundraising (CCF) isn’t a framework I adopted as a nice-to-have; it was critical for me to locate myself in this work.
CCF gave me purpose as a fundraiser and resource mobilizer.
I say this now because there is a disturbing trend of fundraisers and nonprofit folks who seem to have considered this movement and framework as an extra, rather than a need. Who think they can take the principles and pieces of the ethical framework they consider beneficial to them and leave what’s “not.”
In this current climate, this is especially dangerous to do and especially dangerous to be around.
Right now, the political climate is a terrifying one.
Right-wing politics and politicians are dominating our news cycles. There is increased surveillance on justice movements and organizations, daily violence inflicted on queer and trans communities, bodily autonomy is at stake—oh, and we know the world is burning, right?
Our sector especially has been hit hard with slashed budgets, frozen funding, and continued decimation of our sector’s resources in more ways than one.
The conversation we’ve been having about how this will affect our most vulnerable—the folks in our community who are directly impacted by this—is ongoing and remains terrifying.
But the one I want to address today is the conversation around DEI and the threat this has to all folks and organizations oriented toward justice.
While I have my criticisms and reservations about DEI as an industry (this is a whole separate article), the critical conversation we are having about this is needed.
Revealing True Commitments
Regarding the folks softening their language, prioritizing their comfort, and claiming a sudden reduction in risk capacity—let them go. One of the more nefarious dangers to justice movements is precisely the white moderate. And this sector has a tendency to reward and celebrate them.
Many organizations and people jumped on racial equity and DEI (I include CCF) because it was trendy to do so. Because there was a global call for equity and justice in 2020. Because people were at risk of losing out if they didn’t join this movement.
As the risk to implement these principles grows, as the tangible threats to justice show themselves, let these folks show themselves out.
There are those who are already removing their pronouns from their LinkedIn profiles, who are already deleting anti-racism and anti-oppression from their organization’s values, immediately erasing any trace of their “fervent commitment to equity” from their work.
Regarding the folks softening their language, prioritizing their comfort, and claiming a sudden reduction in risk capacity—let them go.
One of the more nefarious dangers to justice movements is precisely the white moderate.
And this sector has a tendency to reward and celebrate them.
This sector was designed by white moderates for white moderates. And yes, BIPOC folks can also perpetuate this specific behaviour of performative activism and fervent defense of the status quo (again a complicated conversation and another article pending!).
Perhaps now’s the time for a seismic shift. Where we don’t celebrate mediocrity or empty gestures signifying equity but resulting in nothing. Let the dust settle and let’s see who really understands that risk is the cost of entry for racial justice and wants to support each other and weather it together.
I’ve never been interested in discussing racial equity with people who prioritize their own individual comfort above collective justice—and I think this muscle to discern who is doing so is critical to build now.
The Path Forward
There will be grief. It will be painful. But it’s not new.
It will also equip us with the required vigilance to know who will be our accomplices and who stands in the way of progress, of community, of abundance, of justice.
Let the purge happen. It’s already happening anyway.
We’ll grieve the loss of folks we thought were on our side. We’ll still care for them. We’ll still build this world with them in mind.
But when they show themselves as false allies and you see them distancing themselves from the risk inherent in justice work, then we have to say goodbye.
The question shouldn’t be “What will happen with these DEI clawbacks? What will we lose? Who will we lose?”
The question is, “Who will remain?”
Because there are folks for whom justice and equity is not a resume booster, not a job, not a value set by an organization or a political party, but a lifelong conviction.
And those are the folks we want to be in community with.
Those are the folks we want to fight side by side with.

Esther Saehyun Lee
Esther Saehyun Lee, MA, (she/her) is a Community-Centric fundraiser and Consultant at Elevate Philanthropy Consulting. She is a fundraiser, storyteller, and advocate who works to mobilize resources to communities. In her work and volunteer positions, she challenges and dismantles systems of power in the nonprofit sector to ground its practices towards equity and justice. She’s helped many nonprofits increase their revenue, implement fundraising processes and structures in a CCF lens, and has demonstrated increase in both revenue and donor base.
She is dedicated to advancing the mission of justice in the nonprofit sector and does so in her roles as a Community-Centric Fundraising (CCF) Global Council member and Interim Board Member of Association of Fundraising Professionals Greater Toronto Chapter. She is a movement builder dedicated to making space for people of colour within the nonprofit sector. In addition to these titles, she is an amateur banjo player and cat mom. If you’d like to chat about equity in nonprofit, grab a virtual coffee, or just exchange memes, find her on LinkedIn. If you’d like to work with Esther, book a meeting with her.
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