By Frank Velásquez Jr., Founder of 4 Da Hood and the Creator of Ascending Leaders in Color
It was as if the two People of Color (PoC) sitting with him didn’t even exist – mind you, two PoC with extensive expertise in CCF. But, in this moment, the student suddenly felt, with no reservation, empowered to teach on a subject – a subject he himself has said that he is still learning. This is white privilege in its truest form.
Story time.
I recently had lunch with three friends of mine. For context, we are all nonprofit fundraisers and conference presenters. We met at a restaurant during a break from a major fundraising conference for some reconnection.
To really get a picture, it’s important to know the seating arrangement. I was sitting across from my Latina friend who has been practicing community-centric fundraising (CCF) principles for a long time. To my right was my white, female friend, who has also been practicing CCF for a while. Across from her and to my left was the fourth person in our group, a white male friend who is still on his journey from donor-centric fundraising.
At some point we began talking about community-centric fundraising and donor-centric fundraising, and my white male friend suddenly got very animated – defensive, really – when my Latina friend called the recent CCF Family Reunion, the “Anti-[insert those three letters] Conference.” I won’t go into all the details of his defensiveness, but I will say that after further explanation from the two Brown people as to why we called the Family Reunion that, he seemed to understand it better.
To be honest, I don’t quite remember what we said that made him understand it better, but it might have been something along the lines of “fostering a sense of belonging with donors so that they are part of the solution” and “not perpetuate the white savior complex.”
Whatever was said, there was a definite ‘aha’ moment in his eyes! Something clicked for him.
However, what he said next was both shocking and not surprising.
He looked directly at my white female friend – remember she was seated directly in front of him – and said, only to her, “You and I should create a session on how to build a community-centric fundraising plan!”
Sigh. 😒
It was as if the two People of Color (PoC) sitting with him didn’t even exist – mind you, two PoC with extensive expertise in CCF. But, in this moment, the student suddenly felt, with no reservation, empowered to teach on a subject – a subject he himself has said that he is still learning.
This is white privilege in its truest form.
According to Dictionary.com, the definition of a student is “any person who studies, investigates, or examines thoughtfully.” Their definition of a teacher is, “a person who instructs, especially as a profession.” Wikipedia further defines a teacher as “a person who helps students to acquire knowledge, competence, or virtue.”
So how might you feel if you were sitting at that lunch table listening to a student tell the other student at the table that they should present a session on community-centric fundraising, simultaneously discounting the expertise of the two teachers at that same table? And what if you had already witnessed a different student present on a topic you know they have very little knowledge of? How might you feel if you found out that student had not only been asked to present on the topic, but was paid as well? And finally, how might you feel if there were several teachers – subject matter experts on the topic – in that audience watching as the student stumbled, stammered, and struggled throughout their presentation?
Yeah, I felt the same way. And yes, both of these situations actually happened. Let me start with the latter and then I will come back to the former.
In 2022, a nationally-recognized donor-centered fundraising professional gave a day-one conference plenary on community-centric fundraising (CCF). In the previous five years, I had watched this seasoned speaker present on fundraising topics in a clean and clearly knowledgeable manner. However, this was not the case for this session, and I’m confident I know why.
They stumbled, stammered, and struggled throughout their presentation. Even though they had embraced the CCF movement – which quite honestly has not been the case with many nonprofit fundraising consultants – it was still painfully obvious that they were still in student mode. They appeared visibly uncomfortable, had little knowledge of the movement itself and the heart behind it, and as a result, the plenary fell flat and left little, if any, impact with the audience.
What made things worse was there were several CCF experts, teachers really, in the audience that could have been asked – should have been asked – to give the plenary on this particular topic.
Which raises several questions. Why weren’t any of them asked? Did they not have the “credentials” this speaker had? Or did they, but were not asked for other reasons?
These are learning opportunities. So how do we ensure that it moves from learning opportunities to growth? I have a solution.
Although it is factual that this speaker did have the credentials as a donor-centric fundraiser, they absolutely did not as a community-centric fundraiser. Did the conference organizers know this? Did they even know the difference? If they had, would it have even mattered? Or was it most important that this “expert” be given the opportunity based on their decades of fundraising experience? Was the speaker a draw that the actual subject matter experts – in the eyes of the organizers – weren’t?
These are learning opportunities. So how do we ensure that it moves from learning opportunities to growth? I have a solution.
First, let’s be clear: No one owns community-centric fundraising, like no one owns donor-centric fundraising. As stated on CCF’s website, CCF is “deliberately forming a movement, not an organization.” That being said, it is still one thing to embrace the principles of CCF and incorporate them into one’s work, and it’s an entirely different thing to get on stage and teach about CCF while still learning about CCF and its principles. This is especially troubling when the person is white, where, even as an ally, they still carry privilege and power.
And to confirm, the person – the student – in my second story is white. And the CCF practitioners in the audience – the teachers – were all People of Color. Even though the white speaker likely considers themselves an ally, did they ever once consider turning down the plenary opportunity, knowing full well they were still in learning mode?
Important to note as well: All of the conference organizers were white, too. Did the lack of color in the conference planning stages contribute to who they deemed worthy to handle such a topic, never considering where and how the movement was started and by whom?
I don’t know if any of this was done with intent, but even if it wasn’t, the impact had already been felt, specifically by the People of Color in the conference ballroom.
So, how can allies work on their limited awareness so situations like this don’t occur? And more importantly, how can allies – who carry that power and privilege in dominant spaces – step back to let PoC step up?
I suggest trying this five-step practice:
- Lead with Curiosity: Begin connections with curiosity-building questions like “What has shaped your perspective?” This shifts interactions from defending positions to sharing experiences, which opens up the possibilities for having courageous conversations.
- Establish Circle Agreements: Create agreements like “listen from heart, speak from the heart, say just enough” that folks then add to. Implement them immediately, then…
- Have the Courageous Conversation: The first two steps helped create the container to have the courageous conversation. Have it, and make sure you…
- Honor Circle Agreements: It’s not enough to establish agreements; they must be honored to create space for reflection rather than reaction and demonstrate how agreements transform conversations, so that you can then…
- Step Back so PoC Step Up: It’s not enough to say you get it, but still don’t give PoC opportunities to step up. Commit to changing a practice that is in your control and step back.
And now back to the opening story:
After my friend suggested he and the other white person at the table together create a session on community-centered fundraising, I leaned into my authenticity and said, “There are literally two Brown people sitting right here!”
His reaction was priceless, as he too stumbled, stammered, and struggled with what to say next.
On our walk back to the conference, he and I talked. He opened up as to why he gets defensive – I told him to be curious instead. He apologized for being boisterous – I told him to listen from the heart. Then he listened while I spoke from my heart – I told him:
PoC have never been given space to speak unfiltered as you did during lunch; we are expected to be quiet so as not to make white folks uncomfortable. PoC are tired of this power dynamic and many no longer accept these terms, especially considering the attack on DEI programs, policies, and protections.
And as more and more PoC step up in the face of retaliation, it is their courage that feeds mine.
And maybe this courage will help me to write an article asking my fundraising allies – who were once nonprofit donor-centric fundraising teachers and are now students of community-centric fundraising – to step back from speaking on the topic.
For now.
And I respectfully ask that you make space for those of us who’ve experienced harm in donor-centric spaces and who’ve lived these community-centric principles before they were even called community-centric principles. Give them, give us, space to step up.
And perhaps, that is the first step towards genuine allyship.
Perhaps this essay is my first step in stepping up for those who look like me so that they can shine in the spaces they occupy, and not just exist in them.

Frank Velásquez Jr.
Meet Frank Velásquez Jr. (he/his/el)
Storyteller Extraordinaire, Social Justice Warrior, and Community Connector! With a heart as big as his vision, Frank dances on the frontlines of change in relentless pursuit of racial and gender equity. Whether he’s dropping knowledge on the conference stage or storytelling behind the scenes, Frank’s passion for social justice is as infectious as his smile. And he creatively connects our stories, preserving the unique flavor of each one like a delicious bowl of gumbo.
As Founder of 4 Da Hood and the mastermind behind the Ascending Leaders in Color (ALC) leadership program, he’s forging paths for peeps of color to lead with more authenticity, courage, and joy! Because for Frank, advancing equity isn’t just a job — it’s a movement towards building generational wealth for communities of color to thrive!
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He is also actively looking for sponsors for their Ascending Leaders in Color leadership program. For more information, contact 4 Da Hood at info@4dahood.com!
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