What Loki can teach us about dealing with organizational change

What Loki can teach us about dealing with organizational change

Feb 26, 2024 | Essays, The Hub

By Abigail Oduol, a planned gift fundraiser and self-proclaimed Marvel enthusiast

With your work universe imploding, how might you respond and take part in creating a plan that leads to collective flourishing?

Note: This piece has spoilers about Disney+ Loki season two

The Time Variance Authority (TVA) is an organization in disrepair. He Who Remains, master strategist and TVA’s authoritarian leader, has been assassinated. The board was composed of literal puppets, the founding story an intentional lie, the building physically falling apart, and employees battling for power. It turns out the mission they thought was good and altruistic is actively destroying communities, worlds, and even galaxies. 

Oh, and reality is collapsing in on itself. 

Welcome to Loki season two by Disney+. If you didn’t watch season one or need a primer, here’s Collider’s detailed recap. Caught up? Okay, let’s ride.

Maybe you haven’t experienced anything as dramatic as this. After all, the characters in this series navigate both a collapsing organization and multiverse. However, swap out a few minor details, and the scenarios sound like difficult moments in a nonprofit. 

A leader unexpectedly leaves, and there is a power vacuum. Organizational stories or experiences that rattle the institutional core get uncovered. An organizational mission is revealed to have caused more harm than good. 

With your work universe imploding, how might you respond and take part in creating a plan that leads to collective flourishing?

We’ll focus on Episode 4, which weaves a narrative of a broken organization coming back together and having a chance to grow in a fresh way. Using this framing, we can draw our own conclusions about how to deal with organizational change.

Coalition Building is Scary

Coalition building is a great space for an incrementalist.

B-15 is optimistic about the organization’s fate. She’s both accused of treating the lives on the timeline as theoretical and has an idealistic solution to reform the TVA broadly and its policing branch specifically. We can call her an incrementalist, as she goes person by person to inspire change. Notice on the timeline she’s a doctor, a role that produces value by improving people’s lives over extended periods of time (incrementalist).

B-15 and Judge Gamble have a conversation that focuses on the difficulty of making changes to an organization when you are still defining improvement and success. B-15 is reminded that this is not all on one person’s shoulders, or like Esther Saehyun Lee says, “We do it in community, or it doesn’t get done.” 

Everyone has a role to play, and one is gathering others to make change happen – coalition building. B-15 is encouraged to bring others into the cause, especially those who are ideologically different but deeply care about the organization, like General Dox, to “convince her that this new version is worth protecting, too.”

When she uses her power to encourage others to join the cause, it’s more than just her passion; her integrity gives the most persuasive argument. B-15’s ideals and consistency are key to her success as a bridge to others.

Within nonprofits, people know which coworkers walk the talk and care deeply about others. We may hire for skills and talent, but character matters. The way that you have engaged others in the past, even when in disagreement, is crucial when things are shaky. This pattern of behavior will encourage others to join you in the struggle to protect something they also value in the workspace. People tend to follow other steady, dependable people into the unknown. And coalition building is a great space for an incrementalist.

Reform or Revolution?

Loki’s reformist perspective needs Sylvie’s revolutionary vision to aspire for a better future. Her perspective guides him into “glorious purpose.”

Our resident reformer, Loki, said, “Sure, burn it down. Easy. Annihilating is easy. Razing things to the ground is easy. Trying to fix what’s broken is hard. Hope is hard.”

Within institutions, changing the direction of a large, crumbling structure and all the people taking part in it is hard. Fixing everything that is broken is also hard. Maintaining hope while engaging in all these projects is a discipline. Also, a revolution involving tearing down rotten systems and building something in their place is not easier than reform. It takes dedication and creativity to imagine something that doesn’t yet exist and bring it into existence. It takes bravery to acknowledge when something is not salvageable.

We can get trapped in the sunken cost fallacy when reforming our organizations. This leads to further investment in something that isn’t working because we’ve already spent so many resources. 

We become convinced that revolution is impossible because fighting for reform has been so tedious. We’ve lost bits of ourselves along the way, as well as the larger vision. 

The foil to this viewpoint is the Loki variant and revolutionary, Sylvie, who prompts Loki’s statement. Sylvie is painted as negative and generally disliked by everyone except Loki because of her uncompromising dedication to living and speaking her truth (and a lack of finesse).

Sylvie is the most ethically inflexible of the characters, pointing out how casually others (and the audience) rush past the ongoing harm, making several statements like, “everything is turning to s*** while we leave them and go have some pie…Does it matter that the branches are dying?”

She also worries that the system may be beyond reform because of how it was created and why. 

She has experienced the TVA’s mission as a community member and is there to make substantial changes. Most of what she has to say is overshadowed or exists as a contrast with the show running Loki, but that doesn’t stop her or prevent her from joining the ideologically diverse coalition of characters.

Loki’s reformist perspective needs Sylvie’s revolutionary vision to aspire for a better future. Her perspective guides him into “glorious purpose.” Sylvie’s focus on consensus-based decision-making and saving as many timelines as possible as non-negotiables become a part of the group’s goals.

What do we do about it?

The glimpse of life at the TVA as the series concludes depicts what we wish for in our institutions…

“Just because it isn’t you doesn’t mean it’s necessarily me…it just doesn’t mean it’s me,” Loki argues with Mobius on whose turn it is to operationalize the group’s loom solution and save the timelines.

The loom they were trying to fix for the entire season does need to be destroyed. And there’s recognition that a part of having privilege is sacrificing it so that the larger community can receive the redistribution of power in the form of opportunity for flourishing and living full lives.

Loki leaves it all to become Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life that sustains the multiverse and takes on the burden of purpose. It’s a beautiful story arc for Loki, but that’s where our elaborate analogy teeters to its natural end.

People with privilege sacrificing it all for a larger purpose and collective flourishing is part of the story, but not the whole story in the real world of institutional collapse.

Co-creating a future together, and not just with the people you like, is more of the story. 

The glimpse of life at the TVA as the series concludes depicts what we wish for in our institutions: participation in meaningful, collaborative work, time off to understand what our lives mean outside of our workspaces, democratization of access to power, and diversity of voices in decision-making forums. 

This is also a part of how broken institutions come back together again.

This process of moving forward includes reframing Sylvie’s concerns in our own contexts. Who is sitting in seats of power is important, but also, how are they operating from that power? What does that power mean for everyone else? Are we, like Sylvie, concerned about abuse of power? Sylvie is thinking about how the choices that the people in the room make affect everyone – not just the employees of the TVA. As we create new futures for our institutions, are we thinking about how things affect not just our place in the nonprofit ecosystem, but other staff, and the community we work alongside? Are we considering these things when creating strategic plans and keeping them as a focal point?

When it still doesn’t work

You may have to reckon with the possibility that, like the infrastructure the series characters are fighting to preserve, the system may have been designed to fail.

Sometimes, in a collapsing department or organization, like Casey and Ouroboros, you might get to the point of, “I don’t understand; we’ve adjusted everything we can adjust.”  They even did everything a consultant would suggest. They created a plan, tried to figure out the scaffolding issues and figured out people’s strengths and used them to support their aims.

You may have to reckon with the possibility that, like the infrastructure the series characters are fighting to preserve, the system may have been designed to fail.

At times, these flaws are interpersonal, like “Only the one who designed it can open it.”  Ouroboros discovered that although the person who designed the damaging system was dead, he continued to wield control over the TVA, still gatekeeping access and forcing the organization to make someone like him a successor.

Like the fictional loom, some of our systems weren’t designed to take on the weight of our expectations and desires for an equitable organization. Structures in your organization may exist only to support one person’s “sacred timeline” to the detriment of all others.

Seminaries accepting women and Black students but not including us meaningfully in the syllabus. Inviting fundraisers of color to work for you but not having policies to protect them against microaggressions at organizational events or during donor visits. Situations like the University of Pennsylvania having DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) efforts but also refusing to give back the remains of Indigenous people in any meaningfully, speedy way, putting them in comfortable noncompliance with a several decades-old year Federal law.

If that’s the case, your solution might be to be like Sylvie and advocate for radical change rather than incremental adjustments or reform.

Despite how the other characters initially engage with her, Sylvie still chooses to be a part of a coalition, and her presence makes a difference. They need a revolutionary to push their boundaries on what is possible. She has the choice of walking away but chooses to be where the decisions are made because she is a survivor and wants to see futures that don’t include an apocalypse and where no special powers are necessary to enjoy life.

Sylvie shares her controversial opinions repeatedly to mainstream them. She comes to deeply want the TVA to live its values. She wants the mission to mean something beautiful rather than tragic for all the communities who have no idea the institution exists but are changed by its work, nonetheless. Ultimately, the other characters understand her better, and she succeeds by helping the incrementalists and reformers reimagine the possibilities.

We have many different motivations, but building coalitions across differences and finding ways to help people invest in change, like B-15 did, is worth it. Sacrificing individual agendas for the greater good and looking for practical solutions, like Loki, is worth it. Deciding which vision of the organization gives people the best chance to thrive is worth it. Speaking the truth and living your values, like Sylvie, is worth it.

In the moment, navigating through organizational upheaval can feel hopeless, but you, too, are a character in a larger story, and your story is worth telling.

 

Abigail Oduol

Abigail Oduol

Abigail Oduol’s (she/hers) surname is not Irish or Pennsylvania Dutch. It’s Kenyan. She keeps her escape pod in Kenya ready, and checks on it regularly with her young kids and husband. Abigail serves on the CCF Global Council, NACGP D&I committee and with her local PTA.  Follow her musings on threads @abby_oduol and longer thoughts on LinkedIn. You can send tips and micro reparations to her Cashapp $AbbyOduol.

Radical philanthropy for Black-led movements: A new asset-based approach to fundraising

Radical philanthropy for Black-led movements: A new asset-based approach to fundraising

Feb 19, 2024 | Essays, The Hub

By: Johane Alexis-Phanor, a fundraising and communications consultant with an expertise in raising funds for Black-led movements

I came to the conclusion that the distance is intentional because philanthropy does not truly value the communities they serve and they do not see them as equals.

I stepped inside a beautiful foundation building today with offices overlooking the waterfront. They had the prerequisite-suited security guard at the front desk lobby to let me in. 

As I sat in their conference room looking out at all the skyscrapers, I began to ask myself, “Why is this foundation not located in one of the Black communities it serves? Why rely on nonprofit staff, grant proposals, and site visits to experience firsthand the challenges they are trying to solve? Why wouldn’t they want to be in a place where they could go outside every day, patronize the community businesses, and interact with the residents? Why do I have to travel almost an hour to hear about their philanthropic priorities for my community? Why have they created this distance?”

And I came to the conclusion that the distance is intentional because philanthropy does not truly value the communities they serve and they do not see them as equals.

Practicing deficit-based philanthropy devalues Black communities

Recently, a recruiter reached out to me about a leadership opportunity with a charitable organization. My interest was piqued because they were embarking on a new philanthropic initiative with equity at its core. This new strategy would launch a multi-year fundraising campaign.  

When I looked at the report that would help to shape this new pathway, every single data point about the community they hoped to serve was a racial or economic disparity. 

To define a community solely based on disparities is a very narrow way of doing social justice work. And to develop philanthropic strategies solely based on these disparities is to create deficit-based solutions centered around a deficit-based approach to philanthropy.

The deficit-based approach to philanthropy says that Black communities have no assets, no strengths, and no solutions to offer to address their most pressing and urgent social and economic issues. Deficit-based philanthropy takes agency completely away from Black communities. It leaves Black communities in a constant state of victimhood. It tells Black communities that they have no resources to offer to the fight for liberation. Deficit-based philanthropy has a very myopic view of the Black community because of distance. There is physical distance between funders and communities. There is also a separation in lived experiences and a detachment that occurs when you only know a neighborhood from proposals, reports, and white papers. Deficit-based philanthropy replicates inequalities, and it is ineffective. 

It’s time that we stop participating in the devaluing of Black communities and develop a new model of philanthropy that recognizes the inherent value and worth of the communities we serve.

To practice deficit-based philanthropy is to devalue Black communities. 

There are white institutions that have extracted hundreds of millions of dollars from the Black community in the form of fundraising campaigns that leverage stories, images, and the “plight” of Black communities. The professionals who work at these institutions make six figures a year, sit in a cushy office somewhere in their city’s downtown, and have received awards and accolades as a result of their philanthropic work while simultaneously telling Black communities every year that they are “struggling,” “suffering,” and “marginalized.”  

It’s time that we stop participating in the devaluing of Black communities and develop a new model of philanthropy that recognizes the inherent value and worth of the communities we serve.

S.M.A.R.T. Black Philanthropy is asset-based instead of deficit-based

In 2016, working as a Director of Resource Development, I began to develop the concept of S.M.A.R.T. Black Philanthropy (SBP), which aims to advance a new model of philanthropy in Black communities. (The S.M.A.R.T in S.M.A.R.T Black Philanthropy stands for specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and timely- –an acronym often used to set mission-driven goals.)

This model is asset-based. It prioritizes a collaborative approach instead of a competitive approach to philanthropy. Finally, it is rooted in Black traditions and movements. 

Asset-based philanthropy starts with the premise that Black communities have assets that can be leveraged to address problems of inequality. Black communities have untapped resources that can be invested in. SBP believes in Black creativity, Black wisdom, and Black ingenuity. SBP believes that Black people have everything we need to be effective in our social change movements.

The power of words, stories, and narratives

For far too long, mainstream philanthropy has had the power to write the stories of and shape the narratives around Black communities. And the stories they have told about Black people are disparaging. Words have the power to create reality. The words we use affect the work that we do. That is why SBP avoids words like  “underserved,” “underprivileged,” “at risk,” “underrepresented,” “disadvantaged,” “under-resourced,” “marginalized,” and every other deficit-based label that white mainstream philanthropy has used to define Black communities. 

The stories of scarcity that philanthropy tells about Black communities are like self-fulling prophecies: We believe that these communities have little value and little worth, and so instead of coming up with expansive strategies for real transformation, actually investing in what it would really take for change, we patch up the problem because we don’t truly believe in the potential of the community. 

An example of the negative impacts of deficit-based narratives is the media coverage of Black communities. Stories are overwhelmingly negative, with a focus on crime and violence. Narratives are solidified about how unsafe these communities are. People refuse to visit, do business, and live in these communities. Disinvestment happens. Crime proliferates. And the vicious cycle continues.

Deficit-based solutions vs assets-based solutions

 

Here is an example (based on real-life philanthropic initiatives) of how deficit-based vs asset-based philanthropy would address social problems in Black communities:

Deficit-based approach–  Start with the deficit, i.e., Black boys and men are more likely to experience poor mental health conditions.

Deficit-based solution- Spend hundreds of thousands of dollars and convene multiple nonprofit organizations and staff to create a multi-year program to convene Black boys and men so they can meet monthly and have a supportive environment to discuss their mental well-being. In other words, therapy.

Asset-based approach– Start with the asset, i.e., 55% of Black-owned businesses in 2020 were led by Black men.

Asset-based solution- Develop initiatives that invest in, provide business technical assistance, and provide opportunities for Black male entrepreneurship in various fields, taking into consideration some of the challenges they face (i.e., access to education, effects of having a CORI, etc). This not only impacts the economic well-being but also addresses the mental well-being of Black men by lessening their exposure to poverty. 

Six key assets in asset-based philanthropy

If philanthropy really wants to repair the harm caused by systemic and structural racial inequities, it needs to begin its work by identifying assets in Black communities that we can invest in. 

I recommend that philanthropy cease to put together report after report of a laundry list of disparities in Black communities as a framework to guide their strategies. We know that social, gender, and racial disparities exist in our society. We can identify the needs of our communities as we evaluate the impact of our work, but disparities should not be our philanthropic guiding light. 

The Collaborative for Neighborhood Transformation has a great toolkit for asset-based community development that I have adopted as a model for asset-based philanthropy. 

I have made changes and additions to their model to develop the Six Key Assets in Asset-Based Philanthropy for greater social impact. These assets are:

  1. People Assets: People assets are the individual gifts of a community as well as their connections and relationships with each other. An example of people assets in Black communities is strong family ties, which often lead to multi-generational living.
  2. Cultural Assets: Cultural assets include arts, language, food, and music. An example of cultural assets in Black communities is storytelling and oral traditions.
  3. Physical Assets: Physical assets include land, green spaces, blue spaces (rivers, oceans, etc), and buildings. An example of a physical asset in a Black community is Black-owned homes.
  4. Intellectual Assets: Intellectual assets are knowledge and experiences often passed down through generations. An example of an intellectual asset in Black communities is the legacy of community organizing and movements for equal rights.
  5. Economic Assets: Economic assets are financial assets. Examples of economic assets in Black communities are Black-owned businesses and enterprises, funds, and investments.
  6. Institutional Assets: Institutional assets are professionally organized groups that serve communities. Examples of institutional assets in Black communities are Black churches, museums, and affinity organizations. 

This is a model for how we can identify and leverage assets in Black communities to bring about real social change. It’s a way for us to recognize the unique strengths and opportunities that can flourish within Black communities given the right financial investments.

I’m extending a challenge to philanthropy, both foundations and non-profits alike, to make detailed accounts of the assets in Black communities. Then, I’d like us to develop strategies for how funders will invest in those assets and how non-profits will leverage those strengths to move the needle toward positive social change.  

Author

Author

Johane Alexis-Phanor (she/her) is a fundraising and communications consultant with an expertise in building capacity for organizations that impact racial equity. She grew up as a second generation immigrant in the Haitian enclave of Mattapan, in Boston. Using her entrepreneurial spirit, she launched Beyond Wordz to assist with the organizational development of non-profits doing work to positively impact Black people and Black communities. To date, she’s raised close to $3 million to support community development initiatives. In 2022, she was one of 5 finalists for the Haitian-American Young Citizen of the Year given by the U.S. Haitian Chamber of Commerce to recognize professionals under 45 whose commitment, outstanding civic engagement, volunteerism and public service has benefitted their community. Follow her on Twitter at @beyondwordz_.

S.M.A.R.T. Black Philanthropy aims to advance a new model of philanthropy in Black communities. This model is asset based instead of deficit based. It prioritizes a collaborative approach instead of a competitive approach to philanthropy. Finally, it is rooted in Black traditions and movements.  

SBP is written from the perspective of Johane, a Haitian-American woman, who inadvertently found herself in the field of community development working to leverage charitable giving to support the economic empowerment of communities of color. It challenges the current paradigm of philanthropy while exploring issues of Black self-reliance, structural inequalities in the non-profit field, the intersection of faith and social justice, and more. The S.M.A.R.T in S.M.A.R.T Black Philanthropy stands for specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and timely- an acronym that is often used to set mission-driven goals. These writings present a S.M.A.R.T alternative for achieving greater social good through philanthropy.

Instagram Live: What does it mean to be a disrupter in an institution?

Instagram Live: What does it mean to be a disrupter in an institution?

Feb 12, 2024 | Events

In 2024, less is more: How I learned to honor my boundaries, rest, and find community

In 2024, less is more: How I learned to honor my boundaries, rest, and find community

Feb 12, 2024 | Essays, The Hub

By Pear Jam, (alias) is a seasoned fundraising professional whose collaborative, results-driven, strategic planning and execution have resulted in millions of philanthropic dollars directed toward racial justice, immigrants’ rights, education, and food justice causes.

In 2024, I am not wasting any energy on converting people who have no intention of seeing me: “See me and my community or not, we are here – poignant, relevant, brilliant and beautiful, rich and resourceful.”

From the moment I arrived at the organization that tokenized and then fired me in 2023, it was clear that I was the cleanup woman. Staff members’ talk about revoking their own planned gifts, donors going unthanked for years, and unwillingness to ask Board members to give annually, should have given me a hint that I might be chewed up and spit out at this place. 

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time,” Maya Angelou once said.

Perhaps the previous development director – also answering to the titles of lawyer, marketing director, and compliance officer – didn’t own her boundaries as a fundraiser. I would protect my zone of genius, I insisted.

Living my grandmothers’ wildest dreams, I updated, merged, and purged outdated and duplicate donor records, evaluated donor trends and history, and crafted a stewardship program that included an annual giving campaign and donor engagement touchpoints. As a newly minted certified fundraising executive (CFRE), I hung up my certificate on the wall to remind everyone they were entering the office of a fundraising professional.

“We don’t like the word fundraising around here,” they said, despite their post for “CFRE Preferred” applicants on the job announcement I answered. “We build relationships.”

“To what end?” I reiterated each time they rejected industry standards-based donor solicitation recommendations that they would have fawned over if my expertise were manifested in a white-presenting body. 

I received regular hints that I didn’t “understand the culture” of the organization while overlooking their cancellations of my check-in requests and insistence on my perpetual “drinking out of the fire hose” as appropriate onboarding.

A few weeks in, the white board that hired me appeared disappointed that I had no mystical Black magic theatrics to produce millions of dollars before year-end. They balked at my invitations to collaborate on regular donor records review, gift history storytelling, and identification of new prospects. No effort was made to include me in conversations revealing their “relationship-building” goals. 

“I’m not impressed by you,” the newly-hired, white, well-heeled, highest-paid person in the office (HiPPO) directly addressed me within weeks of her arrival. My new supervisor, as the HiPPO, was deputized to evaluate my performance and freely undermine me in front of other colleagues despite her lack of fundraising experience. Her derisive looks suggested annoyance that I, as a Black woman without equivalent social status, dared to sit at the helm as her equal in deference. 

“You are one of the highest-paid people here,” she grunted, apparently surprised when it slipped out in a meeting where I was requesting, again, to be updated with abrupt pivots and Board decisions that touched my workstream. Perhaps I was not showing enough gratitude for being permitted to sit at the table.

Diversity Hire?

Months prior to hiring both me and the HiPPO, the organization hosted a DEI training led by an external Black consultant. The result was a chuckling, happy, mostly homogenous room of white people agreeing on their favorite foods and shared love for the local NFL team. 

“Remember, we are all more alike than our differences,” the consultant said, reiterating the thesis of the gathering. That archived video’s date stamp indicates that I was interviewed shortly thereafter, as many PWI organizations sought to distinguish themselves as progressive and woke in the wake of the George Floyd murder and subsequent racial reckoning. 

In the only DEI session that happened – of the three that were promised – there was no mention of systemic racism, imbalance of power, and unconscious bias. Neither was the word “belonging” part of the conversation around building a diverse staff. 

It makes sense that key strategic fund development conversations once I was hired happened with me on the other side of closed doors and that significant stakeholder introductions that would have closed the “organization’s fundraising culture” gap never made it to my calendar. 

Expecting and insisting on buying milk at this hardware store made me look ridiculous. Something needed to happen so that I could move on.

Collecting My Stuff and Finding Myself

Six months after receiving the pink slip, I am still smarting at how much more energy my former employer directed toward offloading than onboarding me. Sufficiently degreed with 15 years as a frontline fundraiser, I expected the same deference given the HiPPO when she arrived – introductions, inclusion, and relevant onboarding. It is still hard to accept that no matter what or how I asked, my request was rejected, not because it was unreasonable but because there was never an intention to support me. Whether intended, the harm to my BIPOC fundraiser soul over the past 15 years and as a Black-presenting body for more than 50 years resurfaced.

“You will never belong, but you can make people respect you,” I had told myself for decades of micromanaging my countenance, acculturation, and assimilation.

This core gaslighting belief pushed me into six months of spiritual coaching by a BIPOC woman who resonated with the work of reassembling my shattered identity as a successful people pleaser.

Manifesting Congruence

In the months following the work separation, I heard my inner daughter regularly asking me whether and how I might keep her safe in future relationships. She also asked whether I still loved her, even though she felt like a failure. Sometimes, we just hung out together in bed all day; other times, I showered her with high quantities of sugar and flour. 

My spiritual coach guided me through grief over job loss, my identity crisis as a dismissed women of color fundraiser, and my sense of self-betrayal while staying at a job that continuously harmed me. I used that time of “sabbatical” to admit that I was burned out and that the only entity in the nonprofit world needing me right now was me. I had rallied so many times over the past decade in the face of a slow, painful death by 1,000 microaggressive cuts. 

Consistent meetings with my coach, supportive family and friend network, my Higher Power, and my inner daughter helped me to unearth core personal values that would guide my future decisions about the job I began in January 2024.

Seeing Me

I am in my first 100 days as Development Director of a Black-centered, Black-led organization, where my voice is celebrated as part of the organization’s health and wealth. Coming home to myself, first and foremost, in the fallout of a toxic work breakup, manifested this. 

Community-centric values of collaboration, partnership, gentle patience, intentional planning, and clear communications are among the shared qualities at this BIPOC-centered non-profit that support my path of healing as a nonprofit fundraising professional. 

I name Black leadership in my new assignment, not to suggest that community-centrism is inclusive of all BIPOC organizations or exclusive of all PWIs, but to reaffirm that I needed an organization that mirrors, centers, and resources my identity as a Black woman in leadership. 

In the Rearview Mirror

2023 started with me as a Black-identifying fundraiser with a chip on her shoulder: “See me and the community that raised me, you racist philanthropic system that categorically denies the true experts and primary change agents equal access to financial resources and grantor trust.” 

In 2024, I am not wasting any energy on converting people who have no intention of seeing me: “See me and my community or not, we are here – poignant, relevant, brilliant and beautiful, rich and resourceful.”

Whether others see me, I see myself. I am grateful to choose each day what I am going to accept and what I am going to change about me.

God, may I do or cause no harm. For all of my seasoned experience, I know fundraising spaces are frequently harmful. I will not be perfect, and we will each fail each other in many ways. Higher Power, Whom I call All-Inclusive Spirit, please grant me the serenity to accept the people running the organization that I cannot change, the courage to change the only person I can change, and the wisdom to know that this person is me. May I breathe into new lessons as I invite and deepen new and existing relationships with staff, Board leaders, network members, volunteers, and donors who are in congruence with our organizations’ values and principles. 

In 2024, Less is More

“Don’t go in there doing the most,” my sister-in-law told me when I announced my new job. “I told you that last time. Don’t do more than is expected of everyone else. Go home when everyone else does.”

Spoken like a true non-fundraiser, my sister-in-law is reminding me that  less is more:

  • Less compulsion yields more boundaries.
  • Less proving results in more rest.
  • Less deference supports more honesty.
  • Less overthinking ignites more activation.
  • Less self-protection allows more self-trust.
  • Less individualism provides more community.

Thanks, Sis. I’m for all that. 

In 2024, I commit to cultivating myself more: walking, reading, writing, and gardening.

I’m taking more space for rest and recovery: more intermittent healing so I don’t have to hit the bottom so hard, resulting in depleted sick leave. 

It’s not a question of being selfish, Nonprofit Leader. Self-cultivation helps everyone, ensuring that the safekeeper is first well-kept. In 2024, I’m going to see myself more. How much more of yourself will you see?

Pear Jam

Pear Jam

Pear Jam’s healing journey starts with decolonizing the self of misogynoir sentiments that manifest as self-sabotage and self-hatred. A lifelong learner, PJ’s contemplative writing, walking discipline, land practices ground them.

As a U.S. Gulf South resident, they remain committed to their own personal and professional development, which includes honoring the power of Black love, faith, and family in the face of generations of racialized trauma.

As a children’s book writer, their fondest dream would be to join the ranks of celebrated Black authors whose books help children to love, trust, and hold safe spaces for their own beautiful reflections.

Seeing every day as a new opportunity to learn, they tend to ask a lot of questions that inform effective advocacy and cause selling. Their love of words infiltrates even during play time — when they’re not crafting compelling case statements, they’re arranging Scrabble bingos for a decisive win. On a beautiful day, one might find them briskly walking the neighborhood, tending their home garden, and most recently, working on their Pickleball returns.

Justice 40 Initiative: An opportunity to right environmental injustice

Justice 40 Initiative: An opportunity to right environmental injustice

Feb 5, 2024 | Essays, The Hub

By Jenny Brandt, member of CCF Global Council and co-lead of membership team

We have an opportunity to address long-standing environmental injustices and redistribute wealth back into communities it has been taken from.

With the passage of Executive Order 14008, which created the Justice 40 initiative, we are in a time of unprecedented funding available for environmental justice communities. 

The US government has not always invested in Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) communities. And some historical investments have gone a long way to harm these communities (i.e., building highways and airports that displace Black and Brown communities and increase pollution and noise levels; siting toxic waste disposal facilities, including landfills and incinerators, in marginalized communities; the development and operation of fossil fuel infrastructure, such as pipelines, refineries, and extraction sites, leading to environmental degradation, health problems, and economic disparities in these communities, just to name a few).

It is important that our CCF network, especially the BIPOC fundraisers, have access to information about the avenues for accessing that funding to improve the lives of BIPOC communities.

The specifics of the Justice 40 Initiative

Three years ago, President Biden signed Executive Order 14008, “Tackling the Climate Crisis at Home and Abroad,” creating the Justice 40 Initiative. This initiative seeks to change the amount of investment that would flow to communities that were not usually considered a priority to receive Federal investments. The new goal is that 40% of the overall benefits of certain Federal investments will go to disadvantaged communities that are marginalized, underserved, and overburdened by pollution. 

For reasons related to the possibility of this being struck down in court, these communities are not referred to by race, though the fact that most of these are BIPOC communities is no coincidence.

The funding focuses on investments set to address climate change, clean energy and energy efficiency, clean transit, affordable and sustainable housing, training and workforce development, remediation and reduction of legacy pollution, and the development of critical clean water and wastewater infrastructure.

The order did not create a fund in and of itself, instead, the funds come from existing Federal programs and new programs created under the Inflation Reduction Act, Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, and the American Rescue Plan.

Accessing funds and how to learn more

The government created a Climate and Economic Justice Screening Tool (CJEST), which today looks like this map. It can tell you the burdens that your community faces and if your community could be eligible to receive funding. All communities on land within the boundaries of Federally Recognized Tribes are eligible. 

Additionally, if your community is at or above the 90th percentile in one or more environmental, climate, or other burdens, and at or above the 65th percentile for low income, it would be eligible. 

As an example, I used this map to look up my old neighborhood in Queen’s Chapel in Washington, DC. The census tract it falls in is above the 90th percentile for people who have been told they have asthma, for lead paint in homes, for the count of hazardous waste facilities within 5 km, for underground storage tanks and releases but below the 65th percentile for low income, so my community is not eligible to apply for funds to clean up legacy pollution, housing, or health. But our unemployment is above the 90th percentile, and the percent of people ages 25 years or older whose high school education is less than a high school diploma is above 10%, making my community eligible for workforce development funding. (Methodology).    

This information will be most useful to groups already doing workforce development in the area, or a group of concerned community members can get together and find partners to submit a proposal to receive such funding. If you need additional support in connecting with potential partners in local government, or groups with experience attaining these funds, you can look for it from your regional Environmental Justice Thriving Communities Technical Assistance Center (EJ TCTAC).

The Environmental Protection Agency and the Department of Energy have funded 16 EJ TCTACs around the country that will receive $177 million to help underserved and overburdened communities across the country. In the table below are the EJ TCTACs, which state, territory, or area they cover, and how to find out more:

Region 1

(serving CT, ME, MA, NH, RI, and VT)

 Institute for Sustainable Communities is a national EJ TCTAC that will serve Region 1 until a Region 1-focused EJ TCTAC is selected, expected in early 2024. region1tctacinquiries@sustain.org

Region 2

(serving NJ, NY, Puerto Rico, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and 8 federally recognized Indian Nations)

 West Harlem Environmental Action, Inc. (dba WE ACT for Environmental Justice) https://www.weact.org/tctac/

Region 2

(serving NJ, NY, Puerto Rico, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and 8 federally recognized Indian Nations)

 Inter-American University of Puerto Rico-Metropolitan Campus https://metro.inter.edu/ecoeagle/

Region 3

(serving DE, DC, MD, PA, VA, WV, and 7 federally recognized tribes)

 National Wildlife Federation https://www.nwf.org/Our-Work/Environmental-Justice/Region-3-TCTAC

Region 4

(serving AL, FL, GA, KY, MS, NC, SC, and TN)

 Research Triangle Institute (RTI International) http://react4ej.org/

Region 4

(serving AL, FL, GA, KY, MS, NC, SC, and TN)

 Deep South Center for Environmental Justice (DSCEJ) https://www.dscej.org/circ

Region 5

(serving IL, IN, MI, MN, OH, and WI)

 Blacks in Green (BIG) Google Form

Region 5

(serving IL, IN, MI, MN, OH, and WI)

 University of Minnesota https://greatlakestctac.umn.edu/

Region 6

(serving AR, LA, NM, OK, and TX)

 New Mexico State University https://scejrc.nmsu.edu/index.html

Region 7

(serving IA, KS, MO, and NE)

 Wichita State University https://heartlandej.org/

Region 8

(serving CO, MT, ND, SD, UT, and WY)

 International City/County Management Association https://form.jotform.com/233324021161136

Region 9

(serving AZ, CA, HI, NV, American Samoa, Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands, Federated States of Micronesia, Guam, Marshall Islands, and Republic of Palau)

 University of Arizona https://westejcenter.arizona.edu/

Region 9

(serving AZ, CA, HI, NV, American Samoa, Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands, Federated States of Micronesia, Guam, Marshall Islands, and Republic of Palau)

 San Diego State University Center for Community Energy and Environmental Justice (CCEEJ)

Region 10

(serving AK, ID, OR, WA, and 271 native tribes)

 Willamette Partnership https://willamettepartnership.org/ej-tctac/

Region 10

(serving AK, ID, OR, WA, and 271 native tribes)

 University of Washington https://deohs.washington.edu/cehe/

 

 

Additional resources provided on the White House Justice 40 website.

Agencies that have released their covered programs under the Justice 40 Initiative include:

Early successes of the Justice 40 Initiative

The Justice 40 Accelerator page shares just a few examples of their Justice 40 success stories:

In Chicago, it helped Blacks in Green fund their effort to build a community-directed lead-free water project focused on education, testing, and increasing access to in-home filtration systems. 

In Hamilton, it supported the West Georgia Farmers Cooperative in advancing food security by providing funding for a community-owned grocery store, commercial kitchen, and credit union, empowering local farmers, producers, and culinary entrepreneurs to expand their local businesses.

In Stockton, it assisted Little Manila Rising in facilitating a just energy transition for their community via the Department of Energy’s LEAP program. Through the acquisition of $500,000 in public funding, they are addressing longstanding energy and pollution challenges to establish a clean, dependable, fair, and secure electricity system that benefits the Little Manila community.

This is an important opportunity for the communities who have been the most historically disadvantaged to receive access to funding to improve outcomes in health, climate change preparedness, transportation connectivity and so on. We’re already seeing innovative projects improving lives in these three examples. Please share this potentially life-changing financial opportunity with the communities in your network who need it most. We have an opportunity to address long-standing environmental injustices and redistribute wealth back into communities it has been taken from. 

Jenny Brandt

Jenny Brandt

Jenny Brandt (she/her) is a member of the Global Council at CCF. She is a co-lead of the Membership and Regional team and is building the network in Latin America.    

Her career in non-profit organizations has focused on building equitable access for Latino communities to health, economic justice, advocacy, jobs within the Federal government, environmental justice, resources and conservation.

She currently resides in Chetumal, Mexico where she loves taking photographs. You can find her on Linkedin here.