TIME NEEDS TO BE SPENT ON THE INTERSECTIONS OF SOCIAL JUSTICE AND FUNDRAISING

By Anna Rebecca Lopez, AR Lopez Consulting

Go back to the infographic via this link

(Introduction text)

A group of BIPOC fundraisers and nonprofit professionals began a collaboration to build a movement for racial and economic justice, sharing dreams of a world beyond capitalism and the nonprofit industrial complex. To gauge perceptions of nonprofit fundraising, this group distributed a survey in May 2019. Intended to highlight the thoughts and experiences of fundraisers and presented through a series of infographics, here are some findings from over 2,000 fundraisers and nonprofit professionals surveyed.

TAKEAWAY #1

(The following section is visualized through a brown box wrapped around the following text:)

Over half of people who responded to the survey said fundraisers main goal should be to connect donors to causes and programs they care about, followed by raising as much money as possible for their organization. Additionally, nearly one in four survey respondents who identify as BIPOC said fundraisers main goal should also include addressing systemic injustice, compared to one in eight survey respondents who identify as white.

(The next subsection is titled “Fundraisers’ main goal should be to …” and features bar graphs in multiple colors, showing what BIPOC respondents and white respondents thought a fundraisers main goal should be.)

Fundraisers’ main goal should be to…

Connect donors to causes and programs that donors care about

50% BIPOC respondents

62% white respondents

Raise as much money for their organization as possible

28% BIPOC respondents

26% white respondents

Address systemic injustice

22% BIPOC respondents

13% white respondents

TAKEAWAY #2

(The following section is visualized through a brown box wrapped around the following text:)

Nearly all fundraisers think they must play a role in educating donors about social issues. Although, more BIPOC fundraisers think they must play a significant role compared to their white counterparts. 

(This section is visualized through two horizontal line graphs stacked on top of each other, one of BIPOC survey respondents, and the other graph is of white survey respondents. Both graphs are colored in dark green, pink, yellow and indigo. The charts show what role survey respondents believe fundraisers must play in educating donors about social issues.)

(The BIPOC graph)

BIPOC fundraisers who think fundraisers must play a significant role in educating donors about social issues: 60%

BIPOC fundraisers who think fundraisers must play a small role in educating donors about social issues: 28%

BIPOC fundraisers who don’t think it’s the role of fundraisers to educate donors about these issues, others in the sector should play that: 7%

BIPOC fundraisers who have not really thought about it: 5%

(The white graph)

White fundraisers who think fundraisers must play a significant role in educating donors about social issues: 48%

White fundraisers who think fundraisers must play a small role in educating donors about social issues: 39%

White fundraisers who don’t think it’s the role of fundraisers to educate donors about these issues, others in the sector should play that: 6%

White fundraisers who have not really thought about it: 7%

TAKEAWAY #3

(The following section is visualized through a brown box wrapped around the following text:)

While the majority of people who responded to the survey think fundraising philosophies and practices are harmful to nonprofits’ work addressing systemic injustice, nearly all fundraisers think they need to spend more time talking about the intersections of social justice and fundraising. 

How helpful or harmful are fundraising practices to nonprofit’s work addressing system injustice?

(This section is visualized through two horizontal line graphs stacked on top of each other, one of BIPOC fundraisers, and the other graph is of white fundraisers. Both graphs are colored in dark green, grey, sky blue, cotton candy pink and dark pink. The charts show whether and how much fundraisers and nonprofit professionals think current fundraising practices and philosophies are harmful to nonprofits’ work of addressing systemic injustice.)

(The BIPOC graph)

BIPOC fundraisers who think current fundraising practices and philosophies are very harmful: 30%

BIPOC fundraisers who think current fundraising practices and philosophies are somewhat harmful: 42%

BIPOC fundraisers who are neutral on current fundraising practices and philosophies: 10%

BIPOC fundraisers who think current fundraising practices and philosophies are somewhat helpful: 14%

BIPOC fundraisers who think current fundraising practices and philosophies are very helpful: 4%

(The white graph)

White fundraisers who think current fundraising practices and philosophies are very harmful: 15%

White fundraisers who think current fundraising practices and philosophies are somewhat harmful: 47%

White fundraisers who are neutral on current fundraising practices and philosophies: 18%

White fundraisers who think current fundraising practices and philosophies are somewhat helpful: 17%

White fundraisers who think current fundraising practices and philosophies are very helpful: 3%

Are we spending enough time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising?

(This section is visualized through two horizontal line graphs stacked on top of each other, one of BIPOC fundraisers, and the other graph is of white fundraisers. Both graphs are colored in turquoise, grey, light peach, dark pink and brown. The charts show whether and how much fundraisers and nonprofit professionals think we’re spending enough time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising?)

(The BIPOC graph)

BIPOC fundraisers who think we need to spend a lot more time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising: 48%

BIPOC fundraisers who think we need to spend more time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising: 42%

BIPOC fundraisers who are neutral and think we already spend the right amount of time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising: 5%

BIPOC fundraisers who think we already spend too much time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising: 4%

BIPOC fundraisers who think fundraising has nothing to do with social justice: none

(The white graph)

White fundraisers who think we need to spend a lot more time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising: 33%

White fundraisers who think we need to spend more time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising: 55%

White fundraisers who are neutral and think we already spend the right amount of time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising: 8%

White fundraisers who think we already spend too much time talking about the intersection of social justice and fundraising: 2%

White fundraisers who think fundraising has nothing to do with social justice: 2%

WHO WAS SURVEYED?

The 2019 survey asked over 2,000 respondents to self-identify their race and/or ethnicity. Respondents were able to select multiple options of the list provided and were able to write-in races and/or ethnicities not provided in the options. The majority of respondents identified as white (84%), this included respondents who identified as Caucasian, Jewish, and/or European. Of the 16% of respondents who identified as BIPOC, this also included individuals who self-identified as coming from ‘mixed ancestry’ or ‘multi-racial.’ 

(Here, there is a dark indigo pie chart showing that 84% of respondents were white and 16 percent of respondents, shown as a pink wedge, were BIPOC.)

(Next to the BIPOC percentage, there is deeper-dive information. There is a breakdown of ethnicities of respondents who were surveyed. The list is shown as a bar graph in descending order, from highest percentage to smallest percentage. The list says:)

Latinx and/or Hispanic – 31%

Asian/Asian American – 29%

African American/Black/of the African diaspora – 22%

Native American/Indigenous/ First Nations – 8%

Arab American/Middle Eastern – 6%

Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander – 4%

South Asian/Indian – 1%

(The next subsection is titled “Organizations of respondents” and features bar graphs in multiple colors, showing what area best describes the primary work the BIPOC and white respondent’s nonprofits engage in.)

ORGANIZATIONS OF RESPONDENTS

Respondents were asked to identify the area that best describes the primary work their nonprofit engages in. The top three areas of work, regardless of whether folks identified as BIPOC or not, consisted of Human Services, Education, and the area of Arts, Culture, and Humanities. 

Human services

BIPOC – 21%

white – 24%

Education

BIPOC – 15%

white – 14%

Arts, culture, humanities

BIPOC – 12%

white – 15%

Social justice

BIPOC – 8%

white – 4%

Environment, animals

BIPOC – 7%

white – 9%

Community, economic development

BIPOC – 7%

white – 5%

Health, mental health

BIPOC – 6%

white – 10%

Intermediary, capacity building

BIPOC – 7%

white – 5%

(The next subsection is titled “Organizational Budget Size” and features bar graphs in multiple colors, showing the budget size of BIPOC’s and white respondent’s organizations.)

ORGANIZATIONAL BUDGET SIZE

Organizational budgets were fairly consistent between BIPOC and white respondents, with no major distinction across the different budget sizes.

$99,999 or less

BIPOC – 4%

white – 4%

$100K – $499,999

BIPOC – 15%

white – 15%

$500K – $999,999

BIPOC – 10%

white – 14%

$1 mil – $2.49 mil

BIPOC – 25%

white – 21%

$2.5 mil – $4.99 mil

BIPOC – 14%

white – 16%

$5 mil – $9.99 mil

BIPOC – 10%

white – 11%

Over $10 mil

BIPOC – 21%

white – 20%

(The next subsection is titled “Percentage of Revenue from Individual Donors” and features bar graphs in multiple colors, showing the organizations’ percentage of revenue from individual donors.)

PERCENTAGE OF REVENUE FROM INDIVIDUAL DONORS

Additionally, one-third of BIPOC and white respondents said that 10% or less of their revenue comes from individual donors. 

0-10%

BIPOC – 35%

white – 36%

11-20%

BIPOC – 19%

white – 19%

21-35%

BIPOC – 17%

white – 16%

36-50%

BIPOC – 11%

white – 10%

51-75%

BIPOC – 9%

white – 11%

over 75%

BIPOC – 8%

white – 7%

MAJOR GIFTS

(This section shows two circle/pie charts in brown, pink, and dark green.)

When it comes to identifying a major gift, one-third of white respondents (33%) said $1,000-$2,499 is considered a major gift. This same dollar range was identified by one-fourth of BIPOC respondents (24%).

(Pie chart #1 is titled “white respondents” and has a 33% wedge colored in, in dark green)

(Pie chart #2 is titled “BIPOC respondents” and has a 24% wedge colored in, in pink)

NUMBER OF EMPLOYEES

(This section shows one circle/pie chart titled, “BIPOC and white respondents” in brown, and turquoise, and has a 55% wedge colored in, in turquoise.)

Respondents, regardless of race or ethnicity, were consistent when sharing the number of people employed by their organization. Over half of respondents (55%) come from smaller organizations of less than 25 people

(The very bottom of the infographic shows the CCF logo on the left hand side. On the right hand side, it says: “© 2020 Community Centric-Fundraising”)

This infographic is part of a multi-part series. Read part one of the series here. Read part two of the series here. Follow CCF on Instagram, Facebook, or sign up for our mailing list to get notified of the next part!

Anna Rebecca Lopez

Anna Rebecca Lopez

Anna Rebecca Lopez (she/they) is an experienced Evaluator and consultant, using mixed-method approaches to social science research, statistical analysis, community engagement & collaboration, digitization and more. She is the Principal Evaluator at AR Lopez Consulting, where she specializes is disaggregating data in a way that tell authentic and useful stories. You can find her on IG @anna_.rebecca

The 40-hour work week is more harmful than helpful. Here’s what to do instead

By Lauren Brooks, Fundraising Professional

Why are we still forcing ourselves to work an 8 hour day? How can we better manage employee workloads? And how do we better assess employee performance in order to prevent employee burnout?

In March 2020, like approximately half of the workforce across the U.S., I suddenly found myself working in an entirely remote capacity. Like many, I also found myself dragged down by long days of remote work and a seemingly unending workload that has only increased as my organization created new programs in response to the pandemic. 

Despite evidence that working beyond 40 hours a week is associated with poorer perceived health and even reduced productivity, many in my organization found their hours creeping up in number without an end in sight. Combined with the blurring of lines between work and home and feelings of guilt if I didn’t stick to my 8-to-5, I found myself occupied with thoughts of work more than ever before. Needless to say, it was a recipe for burnout.

As I dragged along, I sought ways to improve my efficiency and re-invigorate my work routine. I began tracking my output, finding that I was most efficient with administrative tasks mid-morning and most generative in writing donor copy and grants in the afternoons and evenings. Likewise, I experimented with taking breaks on different schedules, tested out the pomodoro technique, and ultimately found that I thrived when taking two mid-length breaks throughout the day: a 30 minute break to make and eat my lunch in late morning and a 30 minute break in the early afternoon to read professional development materials and take a much needed break from the screen. 

While my efficiency improved, the burnout got worse.

I suspect that many other fundraisers feel like I felt — that all of my scheduled working time needed to be dedicated to our mission — and so I tried to glue myself to my computer with active work for 8 (or more) hours a day, everyday. And as I completed my work more quickly, I began to add additional projects until I got to the point where I felt too overwhelmed to accomplish much of anything. (Sound familiar?) 

This made me ask: Why are we still forcing ourselves to work an 8 hour day? How can we better manage employee workloads? And how do we better assess employee performance in order to prevent employee burnout?

The history and efficiency of the 8-hour day

… on average, mental health declines began when workers put in more than 39 hours per week with those negative outcomes disproportionately affecting women …

As is commonly cited, the 8-hour work day has its origins in the Industrial Revolution in the late 18th and early 19th century. As factory owners worked to increase their factory outputs, they often pushed their factories to operate 24/7, seven days a week, forcing employees to work incredibly long (sometimes 16-hour!) shifts, which inevitably led to increases in workplace injuries and what I can only imagine was widespread unhappiness. 

A number of human rights and labor advocates, including Robert Owen and Tom Mann, campaigned for work hours to be capped at 8 hours a day for 5 days a week. At the time, this was a revolutionary change that greatly improved conditions for workers while also, as Henry Ford found, improving employee productivity. 

These limits, though, were created largely in response to jobs that were physical in nature. As ‘knowledge workers’ in the nonprofit space today, trying to effectively work for 8 hours a day is exhausting and unrealistic, and putting in 50 or more hours a week is counterproductive and inefficient.  

In fact, a 2017 study on work-hour thresholds found that, on average, mental health declines began when workers put in more than 39 hours per week with those negative outcomes disproportionately affecting women, who often continue to shoulder additional household responsibilities such as child care, cooking, and cleaning. 

If there’s anything we have learned during this past year about remote work, it’s that allowing employees to have flexible work schedules has helped make jobs more accessible to parents, who are then better able to manage childcare. Additionally, reduced hours, like flexible schedules, has meant that more parents can remain in the workforce, removing the “traditional” pressure, which disproportionately affects women, for people to sacrifice careers in order to rear children. 

Given that as of 2019, nearly 75% of members in the Association of Fundraising Professionals identified as women, we, as fundraisers, must think about how these dated standards that were built for corporate spaces no longer serve us or our employees.

My partner works in tech startups, and I have always wondered why nonprofits don’t adopt more of that sector’s practices. 

For example, as a sales employee, his performance is judged on conversions rather than on hours worked. As such, he has the ability to determine his own hours, taking time when he needs it and putting in extra time when he is behind. His places of work have emphasized community, team happiness, flexibility, and trust — all qualities that would just as readily fuel the work of nonprofits. 

Oftentimes, nonprofits, particularly smaller or grassroots organizations, operate with a scarcity mindset, but we need to recognize that while the time and financial resources needed to implement new policies can be daunting, those changes can — in the long run — improve employee productivity, improve employee retention, and — most importantly — improve employee happiness.

So what do we do?

So what do we do about this as fundraisers? While there are organizations that have pushed for shortened work weeks, such as the New Economics Foundation’s push for a 21-hour work week, Microsoft Japan’s 2019 experiment with 4-day work weeks, and even countries such as France that have set the legal definition of a standard work week at 35 hours, I instead suggest that nonprofits take a more bespoke approach focused on individual employee needs and on building trust. 

Though policy changes may most likely have to come from a nonprofit’s leadership or HR, we still all have a responsibility to be aware of office trends and to do our part in building an office culture that prioritizes employee wellness equally, if not more than, employee output. 

Changing the worker-bee mentality of nonprofits certainly won’t happen overnight — but here are a few of recommendations on how we can start down that path:

1. We need to stop normalizing overtime work.

Certainly all organizations have times where all hands are on deck and extra hours are put in to get past a hurdle, but there is no reason for nonprofit employees to regularly commit to 50+ hours of work per week. 

Federal definitions of exempt employees should not be used as a stamp of best practices — rather, nonprofit leadership must look to the trends in the corporate world, in the U.S., and beyond, on how to appropriately manage staff hours. 

If an employee is consistently working extra hours and is still missing deadlines, it’s probably worth considering whether programmatic activities need to be scaled back or if additional staff need to be hired. If staff are frequently being asked to work outside regular office hours, which as fundraisers we know can take the form of special events or meetings with funders, consider offering them the freedom to flex their time by taking an equivalent number of hours off within days of that commitment. 

By managing employee hours effectively, we not only help to preserve employees’ work-life balance but, even more importantly, we communicate to them that their time is valuable

2. We need to use our time more efficiently.

Instead of putting in long hours, let’s look at how to use our existing hours more efficiently. A study of 1,989 UK office workers found that 79% of respondents did not believe they were productive throughout their entire work day. In fact, the average of respondents’ estimated productive time was only 2 hours and 53 minutes compared to an average 8.8 hours of office time. 

This suggests that if we were able to work more efficiently, we could accomplish the same work that is currently being done in significantly less time. Efforts to increase productivity could include re-defining the standard length of meetings to be 30 minutes instead of an hour (or even 15 minutes!) and allowing employees to block out meeting-free periods in their schedules for focused work time without distraction. 

Task management softwares and the use of automatic workflows for tech-savvy nonprofits can also help to reduce employee strain while providing managers with a one-stop view of employee activities.

3. We need to evaluate employee value based on productivity rather than time.

Sociologist Michèle Lamont suggests that devotion to one’s work in this country, in particular for upper-middle class (white) men, has its origins in the 17th century Protestant work ethic, where work was viewed as a way of serving both God and society. 

We must recognize that if we judge salaried employees based on the time they work, we not only unfairly punish people who work quickly but also make it difficult for employees with personal commitments that prevent working long hours, such as those who are responsible for child care, to ascend to positions of leadership. 

Instead of judging an employee’s success by their mere physical presence in the office, let’s instead work collaboratively with employees to establish goals to measure productivity, using a wide range of quantifiable metrics such as the number of dollars raised toward a goal, of new relationships established, of donor meetings taken, or of cultivation tasks completed. 

4. We need to build trust with our employees.

For any employer-employee relationship to be successful, there needs to be trust, but this is especially true if employees are provided with the freedom to work flexible hours. 

By building trust, we are better equipped to acknowledge and respond to each employee’s unique needs. Just as some people prefer an office environment and others prefer working from home, some people will prefer short bursts of productivity while others won’t mind clocking in for long stretches. 

Likewise, employees will work at different speeds and have different mental/emotional capacity loads that are dependent on other stressors in their lives. 

A foundation of trust and the willingness to practice radical honesty will make it possible for employees to better communicate the support and environment that they need for success while also helping employers to hold their employees accountable. Afterall, autonomous people are happy people!

LAUREN BROOKS

LAUREN BROOKS

Lauren Brooks (she/her) is a self-described early career fundraising professional based in Saint Louis, Missouri. As a proudly biracial half-Taiwanese, half-white individual, she is a strong advocate for diversity, equity, and inclusion in the nonprofit sector. Beyond her day job, she serves as a board member for The Big Muddy Dance Company and engages with the literary world as an independent book reviewer, as a volunteer for Archipelago Books, and as a member of the Feminist Press’ Young Feminist Leaders Council. You can find her on LinkedIn or follow her four pet rabbits on Instagram.

White-focused philanthropy is on the way out; a philanthropy that unites us is taking over

By Rachel D’SouzaFounder + Principal, Gladiator Consulting, Justice Philanthropy Catalyst, Forward Through Ferguson

With Amie Bossi, MPPA, CFRE + Sarah Willey, MA, CFRE

But let’s be clear; the people being harmed are certainly not the institutions and wealthy individuals for whom this system was created.

Recently, USA Today published an opinion piece titled People-focused philanthropy is on the way out. A philanthropy that divides is taking over, by Elise Westhoff. The basic premise of this article casts a critical eye toward the recent national conversation about community, equity, race, and justice. It suggests that holding space for philanthropy to refresh or reinvent itself in response to current events — or for philanthropy to acknowledge how systems, policy or politics — has had a disparate impact on groups of individuals and causes harm to the donors themselves. 

Westhoff and I agree on one simple fact: There are individuals being harmed by the nonprofit industrial complex. But let’s be clear; the people being harmed are certainly not the institutions and wealthy individuals for whom this system was created.

And any article asserting the opposite of this will do so by relying on the same gaslighting, dog whistles, and white supremacy tactics, which are precisely things that are interwoven throughout Westhoff’s opinion piece. 

This moment of pressure on modern U.S. philanthropic practices is a gift. We are scrutinizing our philanthropic beliefs and fundraising practices like never before and seeking to dismantle the systems perpetuating inequity and harm.  Our unprecedented access to information, events, and needs in real-time, an explosion of new technology and giving platforms, and a national conversation centered on systems, equity and justice is necessary for donors to truly practice the values at the core of philanthropy and to build a system that benefits the communities we seek to serve and donors who choose to support our causes. 

In order to understand this pressure, we must explore:

  • The core purpose of philanthropy,
  • The history of charitable giving in the United States, and 
  • The harm perpetuated by upholding this system

These three components are required to build a comprehensive understanding of philanthropy, its potential, and its critiques – one that is completely absent in Westhoff’s article. 

The roots of philanthropy

Yet, I cannot fail to recognize that for all the “good” these financial contributions have done, the ways in which philanthropists have accumulated and protected personal wealth have perpetuated harm.

Let’s take a look at the word “philanthropy.” The earliest use of the word is credited to 5th century BCE Greek playwright Aeschylus. Literally meaning “love of humankind/humanity,” acts of philanthropy have persisted across history amongst all cultures — the sharing of resources, the way we care for community, acts of kindness for strangers, et cetera. And even with all of our modern day hopes, dreams and flaws, let me first assure you that philanthropy has and will continue to be people-centered. For Westhoff to say otherwise leads me to believe that the people she is keen to protect are those who have been centered and have long benefited from wealth and policy in the U.S. – white, Christian, cisgender,  men. 

Here’s another history lesson: 

What we experience as modern-day philanthropy in the United States is a concept that began to take root in the 1800s and was cemented with Andrew Carnegie’s Gospel of Wealth. In his letter to his wealthy peers, Carnegie spoke of an imperative for wealthy individuals to give away their money to support the public good. One of Carnegie’s legacies is the network of public libraries our neighborhoods benefit from today. 

Throughout history, this version of philanthropy has contributed, and, at times, been essential to sustaining public good. Yet, I cannot fail to recognize that for all the “good” these financial contributions have done, the ways in which philanthropists have accumulated and protected personal wealth have perpetuated harm. Carnegie himself built his wealth during the Industrial Revolution, a time of abusive capitalism that led to union organization in the mid-1900s. We continue to see this pattern of harm in philanthropy. The Sackler family is notorious for their philanthropy across the art world. Their wealth was generated through their company Purdue Pharma, which made billions of dollars in the course of minimizing the addictive tendencies of OxyContin, while a national opioid epidemic raged for decades and killed nearly half a million people. Another example is as billionaire Jeff Bezos, founder of Amazon, became richer during the pandemic and endowed the Bezos Earth Fund, his company employees — Amazon warehouse workers — have had to organize against hazardous working conditions. 

These practices that created wealth (primarily for white, land-owning men) are at the center of much of the societal injustice we experience today, including climate change, poverty, food apartheid, and inaccessible healthcare. 

Today, we live with the legacy of slavery, the Industrial Revolution, and the Gospel of Wealth, and we know that our country’s policies and systems were not designed to benefit all citizens equitably.  Speaking plainly, the “people” in “people-focused philanthropy” are white and wealthy. 

So yes, perhaps a new philanthropic movement is on the rise, as Westhoff asserts in her piece — but it is only divisive if we believe our choices are limited or dichotomous. 

A new philanthropy

It was Darren Walker, CEO of the Ford Foundation, who offered the piece “Towards a New Gospel of Wealth” in 2015. In it, he shares:

“Philanthropy’s role is to contribute to the ‘flourishing’ of the ‘far greater part’ — to help foster a stronger safety net and a level playing field. With each generation, we should be guided by our legacy of support for social progress and human achievement in the spirit of the Green Revolution, advances in public health and human rights, social movement building, creative expression and cultural innovation, and so much more. Ultimately, this reckoning with — this reimagining of — philanthropy’s first principles and its relationship to our market system will not be easy, but this moment requires that we not go easy on ourselves. Some might see this as a problem or as pressure. To me, however, it is inseparable from our privilege — because with privilege comes responsibility. In this spirit, let us commit ourselves to proffering, and preaching, and practicing a new gospel — a gospel commensurate with our time.”

Walker’s sentiments could not be more relevant to the current crossroads at which philanthropy sits. We simply cannot continue to reinforce the status quo of modern philanthropy as informed by Carnegie and hope to solve modern problems. Change is uncomfortable yet necessary and change is what is demanded of us in this moment to advance social progress, and the human achievement Walker names as a responsibility of philanthropy. 

In modern day philanthropy, U.S. donors have been making decisions through a lens that privileges whiteness. When we know that vantage point only benefits some, why would we persist in maintaining the status quo?

For many, the coronavirus pandemic and continued public acts of violence against Black and brown people have pulled back a veil exposing “the wild wrongness in so many of our current structures, and the wild possibilities if we apply our visioning, organizing, earthling selves to the conversation and pattern seeking.” Our donors deserve the right and respect to grapple with what they are learning, unlearning, and seeing clearly for the first time. As a sector, we owe them this time and information. When we do not address how social constructs — such as race — have caused harm, our donors cannot possibly address the problem they seek to solve because they do not understand it.  

Community-centric fundraising, the kind of fundraising that divides us, as Westhoff would call it, is an anti-racist movement that seeks to dismantle the power-dynamics that have contributed to systemic racism and inequities, and, true to the nature of the word philanthropy, is deeply rooted in justice, equity, and love of people. 

The Community-Centric Fundraising movement also illuminates the white supremacy tactics that have been long perpetuated in the nonprofit sector — tactics like poverty tourism, tokenizing, competitive and complicated grant procedures, and other gimmicks that continue to increase the wealth of a privileged few, reinforce a wealth-as-power dynamic, and perpetuate a white savior role that is less than transformational. It opens our eyes to the fact that even the data and research we use to defend the work being done is skewed.  

In modern day philanthropy, U.S. donors have been making decisions through a lens that privileges whiteness. When we know that vantage point only benefits some, why would we persist in maintaining the status quo? And why does Westhoff assert that opening our eyes to unseen injustices means “ignoring” others? While a white-dominant lens in philanthropy may offer just one channel for harm reduction year over year, it certainly has not enabled, or even allowed, philanthropists to demonstrate love by addressing a root cause of harm through the dismantling of systems or through or solving the problem.  

As Westhoff states: “Philanthropists are free to fund whatever causes they like — freedom demands it.” 

While this is technically true, freedom cannot exist in an information vacuum. As a sector, if we are not transparent with our donors about the systems that drive inequity and give them all the information they need to make an informed choice, we effectively take away their right to be a true philanthropist — and that is not freedom at all. 

Rachel D'Souza

Rachel D'Souza

Rachel D’Souza (she/her) is the Founder+Principal of Gladiator Consulting in St. Louis, Missouri. Through Gladiator, Rachel has combined her knowledge of organizational culture and fund development with her deep personal commitment to centering community, seeking justice and creating belonging for those who have been disenfranchised or targeted by institutions, systems, and policy.

Born to parents who immigrated to the U.S. from India, Rachel has always been passionate about bridging differences and celebrating what’s possible when we collaborate from a mindset of abundance, learning, and risk-taking. Rachel loves cooking, snuggling her kids, and Instagram.

The Ethical Rainmaker: Reparations and Truth Telling with Dr. David Ragland

By Michelle Shireen Muri, Freedom Conspiracy Principal and CCF co-chair

Episode Summary

“In this moment, people are committing to be reparationist and committing to reparations as a spiritual practice. At the same time, this is one of the most vibrant moments for the discussion of reparations, and I’ve never seen the proliferation of more reparations organizations, and that’s wonderful.” In this episode, Michelle speaks with Dr. David Ragland, Director of the Grassroots Reparations Campaign, about what reparations really is, police violence, inequity, complicity how to create cultures of truth telling. We go deep. Join us!  ​

Find episode notes and the podcast transcript here.

About the Ethical Rainmaker podcast

In the United States alone, philanthropy is a $427 million dollar industry, of which 68% comes from individual donors. Yet the practices, theories, and foundation of modern philanthropy and fundraising often ignore the ways in which the industry perpetuates harm.

The Ethical Rainmaker, hosted by Michelle Shireen Muri, is a podcast that hosts authentic conversations grappling with the questions that we don’t often ask in the nonprofit world. Join us as we explore some of the practices that undermine our missions and navigate the way forward with today’s resisters, reimaginers, and the re-creators of the third sector. It’s time to think differently.

Michelle Shireen Muri

Michelle Shireen Muri

Michelle Shireen Muri (she/her) is the co-chair for Community-Centric Fundraising and the host of the new podcast, The Ethical Rainmaker. She is the founder of Freedom Conspiracy, a small collective of fundraising consultants focused on bringing values-aligned practices to clients in the nonprofit and philanthropy spaces. She can be reached at @freedomconspiracy on Instagram.

Silence is complicity: What is unsaid speaks volumes

By Nicole Salmon, founder and principal consultant of Boundless Philanthropy

“When you see something that is not right, not fair, not just, you have to speak up. You have to say something; you have to do something.”
– John Lewis

Welcome to the social profit/nonprofit sector. You know, the good sector, the one that has long basked in its reputation of doing good work. It’s an inherent goodness that is unquestionably bestowed upon it.

However, for far too long Black, Indigenous, and People of Colour have absorbed all that the sector has on offer — the good, the bad, and the downright harmful and reprehensible.

And their stories are disturbing.

In 2020, I got the opportunity to co-edit a book with Nneka Allen and Camila Pereira called Collecting Courage: Joy Pain Freedom Love. The book, published in November 2020 by Gail K. Picco Books, an imprint of Civil Sector Press, features the work of 15 Black contributors. The authors open up to share their experiences and truths as Black fundraisers drawn towards the power of philanthropy to change lives, but who find themselves “othered” within the very sector hallmarked for doing good deeds and providing vital services.

The book has been well received by many. For Black, brown, and other underrepresented groups in the sector, the book’s message resonates and validates individual and collective experiences. Along with receiving many individual endorsements, the book has been reviewed by Krishan Mehta, Ginelle Skerritt and Tycely Williams, three well-respected individuals with deep knowledge and expertise about the sector.

Some white counterparts, overwhelmingly female, have stepped forward with a level of intentionality that demonstrates courage in confronting the truths shared in the book. They are stepping forward, loud and unabashed in their commitment to challenge and dismantle long upheld, revered, and oppressive systems. They have deliberately chosen to walk the talk and that support is appreciated and welcomed.

However, sadly but not surprisingly, many others who in the past (and currently) publicly profess and position themselves as social justice and equity-seeking allies and advocates have chosen to remain silent.

Collecting Courage is the first-ever book of its kind about racism within the charitable and philanthropic sector, and these “sector leaders and legends” chose the “no comment” option? Why is that?

If there was ever a time to demonstrate solidarity and support a movement towards equity and racial justice within the sector, that time is now. Collecting Courage is an important contribution in understanding the impact and harm caused by inequity and anti-Black racism within the sector. It is difficult not to interpret your silence as complicity with the inequitable status quo.

Sometimes it’s the things that are not said that scream the loudest.

The non-reaction from high-profile sector voices and institutions speaks volumes. The silence is deafening. It appears that displays of solidarity are fleeting, elusive and only possible when the terms are set by them. Now is a time that demands pushing past discomfort and fear. Now is the time for some action and most of all courage.

So what could possibly be at play that may account for the book being greeted with silence from many who usually don’t shy away from adding their voices and perspectives on a variety of sector topics?

For far too long Black and brown bodies have borne the impact of overt and covert aggressions that bury themselves in one’s psyche, inflicting hurt in silence. So often we are embarrassed to share the pain with anyone, even with those closest to us.

For far too long the power holders in the sector have defended and revelled behind a bastion of “whiteness” as the norm and default standard within its walls.

This entrenched standard demands a case be made or a solid rationale presented to justify any and all deviations from the accepted standard. Failure to make a “good” case keeps the default firmly in place, thus leaving the standard to always prevail.

For far too long many have observed the wrongs and chosen to walk away. Maybe the reality is too much to bear and uncomfortable to face.

For far too long silence has been the chosen way. The price of silence comes at a cost that Black and brown bodies can no longer or are prepared to pay. We must reckon with this idea of the purity and “inherent goodness” of the sector because there is much more to the story. We must find the courage to hear the emerging and disturbing truths. These truths have co-existed alongside the sector’s ability and promise to deliver and provide much needed programs and services.

“When you live in an old house, you may not want to go into the basement after a storm to see what the rains have wrought. Choose not to look, however, at your own peril. The owner of an old house knows that whatever you are ignoring will never go away. Whatever is lurking will fester whether you choose to look or not. Ignorance is no protection from the consequences of inaction. Whatever you are wishing away will gnaw at you until you gather the courage to face what you would rather not see.”
– Isabel Wilkerson

Certainly, 2020 was a watershed year, one that in the annals of history will be defined by the big stories that captured the headlines of the year: COVID-19 and the global awakening to structural racism, specifically anti-Black racism. The pandemic seemed to come out of nowhere, taking the world by surprise, dislodging our routines and radically reshaping our lives seemingly overnight.

The other story of anti-Black racism erupted in the spring, triggered by an eight+ minute video showing the excruciating death of George Floyd as he bore the weight of a policeman’s knee on his neck denying him his breath. At that moment, the fullness of Mr. Floyd’s humanity was stripped, rejected and denied. The brutality of the act seemed to come as a surprise to so many.

The truth is, Black people or any other communities whose daily lives have been framed by a constant assault on their existence and humanity, were not surprised. It’s a story that has been and continues to be, witnessed and told for decades preceding our lifetime.

The prevailing image of racism and specifically anti-Black racism exists at the extreme of our imagination. There is a sense that there is a racism threshold that clearly delineates where racism starts or what racism looks like. Using this line as a guidepost, all actions, inactions and behaviours are fair game as long as one does not cross over that line. So if your vantage point happens to be from that perceived line, then I suppose, one could easily claim that racism does not exist in the sector. That line is a mirage and optical illusion.

It’s easy to label extreme acts as racism but what about the ones where the actions and inactions appear benign. These benign acts are being described and called out for what they are and the impact and harm that they inflict on Black and brown people, and other underrepresented groups within the world of fundraising and philanthropy.

Maybe the silence is rooted in an “aha” moment when racism, as described in Collecting Courage, is framed in a recognizable and familiar way. If you have seen, partaken, and/or ignored these behaviours and actions, what does that say about who you are? If this is your fear, you may not see this as an opportunity to move past your fear, but indeed it is. Consider at the very least, acknowledging the experiences shared, reflect on how you may have responded in the past, decide on what you can do differently, and finally, move forward and act.

A sentiment I have heard expressed by several people on virtual calls is a fear that they may say the wrong thing. Well, this is not the time to suddenly lose your voice and to be risk-averse. Be curious to learn and understand the issues, the language and the terms used in anti-racist work. Also, be prepared that you won’t get some things right; none of us do. But be open to being corrected if you make a misstep and move on.

I have 10 pages of very powerful quotes pulled from each of the author stories in Collecting Courage and this one pulled from Nneka Allen’s contribution called “Our Love is Our Only Freedom” aptly applies here:

“Sisters and Brothers, I believe that courage is just on the other side of fear. If you just wait in the angst a few more moments, courage will emerge.”

Silence in the face of injustice has never been okay and now is not the time to continue looking away. The winds of change will not subside. There is a wrong and a right side of history and now is the time to decide if silence is the option that will land you on the right side of history.

Until then we keep churning away, we keep our eyes on the ultimate prize: justice and freedom.

Nicole Salmon

Nicole Salmon

Nicole Salmon (she/her) is shaped by her Jamaican identity and deeply influenced by spending two-thirds of her life in Canada, Nicole is a skilled communicator who embraces her natural curiosity and thirst for variety and new challenges. An avid reader, gardener, sports enthusiast and mentor, Nicole is anchored by family, committed to service, building connections and deepening personal relationships.

Spending over 25 years working in the nonprofit sector managing a variety of fundraising portfolios, in 2014 Nicole founded Boundless Philanthropy, a fundraising consultancy providing a range of fund development services, including interim senior leadership and leadership development. She is a former Director of Fund Development for a Canadian international development organization (INGO).

Co-editor and contributing author of the book Collecting Courage: Joy, Pain, Freedom, Love, an anthology featuring first-person narratives from 14 Black fundraisers from Canada and the United States that documents their experiences and the impact of confronting racism within the charitable sector. (Follow them on Twitter and Instagram.) Nicole serves on the boards of two nonprofit organizations: A Book Review Panelist with The Charity Report Literary Hub and an inspired member of the Black Canadian Fundraisers Collective. Connect with Nicole on LinkedIn, Twitter, and Instagram.