Back Donate
Donate
NCRP VP and Chief External Affairs Officer Russell Roybal and LGBTQIA+ advocate Dolores Huerta
NCRP VP & Chief External Affairs Officer Russell Roybal and lifelong LGBTQIA+ advocate Dolores Huerta

A few weeks ago, I presented an award to Dolores Huerta at the annual Harvey Milk Diversity Breakfast in San Diego. Dolores co-founded the United Farm Workers, and at 94 is still fighting the good fight. In my remarks I said, “For Dolores, justice is indivisible, and she has long recognized that the struggle for LGBTQ rights is inseparable from the broader fight for human dignity and liberation.”

Dolores and Harvey were contemporaries. They marched together, organized together, and they called attention to the injustices faced by farmworkers and queer people…they dissented…together. That was nearly 50 years ago.

Fast forward to today, to a world where dissent is increasingly criminalized as we continue the annual season of Pride celebrations — the vibrant tapestry of lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer (LGBTQ+) pride stands as a testament to the power of resistance. From its humble beginnings as a commemoration of the riots at the Stonewall Inn in 1969 to the global celebrations we see today, pride has always been, at its core, a protest. However, as governments and institutions around the world clamp down on dissent, the very essence of pride – its radical roots – is under threat.

The criminalization of dissent takes many forms, from outright suppression of protests to the enactment of laws targeting marginalized communities. In recent years, we’ve witnessed a troubling trend of governments stifling dissent under the guise of maintaining order or preserving so-called traditional values. This crackdown is particularly pronounced when it comes to LGBTQ+ rights, as authoritarian regimes and conservative lawmakers seek to erase the hard-won gains of the queer community and literally criminalize our very lives.

But pride refuses to be silenced. It stands as a defiant declaration of existence in the face of oppression, a celebration of diversity, and a demand for liberation. Each pride parade is a reclaiming of public space, a rejection of shame, and a reclamation of power. It is a reminder that the personal is political and that our very existence is an act of resistance.

Pride is Political

At its core, pride is a protest against the criminalization of our identities. It is a refusal to be confined to the shadows, to be denied our humanity, and to be stripped of our rights. In countries where being LGBTQ+ is still illegal, pride takes on an even greater significance, serving as a beacon of hope for those living under the shadow of persecution.

But pride is not just a protest against external forces; it is also a call to action within our own communities. As we fight against the criminalization of dissent, we must also confront the ways in which oppression manifests within our own ranks. Pride must be inclusive, intersectional, and accessible to all members of the LGBTQ+ community, especially those who are most marginalized. We must all advance together and leave no part of us behind.

In recent years, we’ve seen a growing push to depoliticize pride, to turn it into a sanitized, corporate-sponsored spectacle devoid of its radical roots. But to do so is to betray the very essence of pride and the countless activists who risked everything to make it possible. Pride was born out of struggle, and it must remain a space for protest if it is to retain its power.

A Call to Action – This Pride Month and Beyond

As we navigate these turbulent times, it is more important than ever to remember the radical origins of pride and the ongoing fight for LGBTQ+ rights. We cannot allow ourselves to become complacent or apathetic in the face of injustice. We must continue to resist, to organize, and to demand change.

The bottom line is that philanthropy has a role and responsibility in the creation of this change. Funders for LGBTQ Issues continues to be a leader in this change. They are releasing the 2022 Resource Tracking Report: Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer (LGBTQ) Grantmaking by U.S. Foundations in the next two weeks. The 20th edition of the annual Resource Tracking Report not only provides a snapshot of funding for queer communities and issues across the country in 2022, it also reveals gaps in funding and highlights opportunities for US-based foundations to make strategic funding decisions that best support domestic LGBTQ communities and issues within the current philanthropic and political landscape.

If philanthropy hopes to become a place of refuge for LGBTQ+ people, they must include more LGBTQ+ staff. A 2022 survey from Change Philanthropy showed that while gay and transgendered people are protected against employment discrimination under the Title VII Civil Rights Act of 1964, nearly half of all LGBTQ people working in philanthropy are not open about their sexuality to most of their coworkers and trans people working in philanthropy account for a just 1.5% of board and staff in philanthropic institutions.

With wealthy right-wing extremists gearing up through Project 2025—for the elimination of LGBTQ+ civil rights law agencies and offices, it is clear that the attack on bodily autonomy is at dire risk. That is why philanthropy must take action now.

As Audre Lorde reminds us, “your silence will not protect you.” We must speak out against the criminalization of dissent, both within our communities and in the world at large. We must stand in solidarity with all those who are fighting for justice and equality, knowing that our struggles are interconnected.

Pride is more than just a parade; it is a symbol of hope, resilience, and resistance. It is a reminder that despite the forces arrayed against us, we will not be silenced. As long as injustice exists, pride will endure as a beacon of hope, lighting the way forward towards a more just and inclusive world.

 

Russell Roybal is the Vice President and Chief External Affairs Officer at NCRP. As a Latinx, male-bodied, non-binary queer leader, their activism is rooted in a tradition of public service and the pursuit of social justice.

Mother
These 5 letters
that sound
so sweet to the ear and
indelibly warms our hearts.

credit: Jess X Snow/Forward Together

Maman
The one who makes us come alive,
who wakes up
at all hours of the night
to keep watch over us.

Mamá
who overwhelms us with love
but also the one
we fear
when she is upset.

Manman,
The glue of the family
that keeps the household going
that guards it from descending
into chaos and disorder.

Mom
whose generosity seems endless
who always has a thought for others
but rarely for themselves

credit: Melanie Cervantes/Forward Together

Nothing equals the love of a mother
not even the love we give them back.

Mothers
and all those who mother
have
no schedule,
no boss,
no income,
of their own,
only a lifetime emotional and
affectionate commitments.

They are simply
irreplaceable,
unparalleled and
indispensable.

You can find them in the dictionary
Under
a form of love that combines
tranquility
security
assurance and
limitless comfort

credit: MoJuicy/Forward Together

Is it any wonder
That they are the only treatment
that so many of us need
for our ailments?

Like our best generals,
they often defy all odds and whims
to protects their soldiers
No matter the region
No matter the exact day or
the time of the celebration
We honor them!

Together
in one chorus
we wish all mothers around the world
every morning and night
Happy Mother’s Day!!

Joelle Thieren is a certified soccer coach, mother and executive assistant at NCRP. Artwork provided under Creative Commons by Forward Together. Each year, Forward Together’s Mama’s Day project looks to honor, celebrate and lift up the strength of all mothers through art. To find out more out the project and donate to their efforts, visit https://mamasday.org.

As the daughter of teen parents, I know a thing or 2 about defying conventional expectations for your life. Individual willpower is critical. However, beating the odds is nearly impossible without an environment conducive to success.

The COVID-19 pandemic has been described in many ways, including “The Great Exposer,” for revealing the broken systems, misplaced priorities, and neglected communities in our society. Experts now warn against a K-shaped recovery that will exacerbate the disparities that previously existed.

I’m encouraged by the philanthropic community’s efforts to combat the impacts of the virus and support issues like racial justice and social equity. But, as a Black woman and nonprofit executive, I’ve never been more concerned that funders will inadvertently accelerate the K-shaped recovery by not evolving to meet the moment.

In a post-COVID world, funders have a unique opportunity to recreate the environments conducive to success by shifting how they do philanthropy.

Commit to multi-year funding

My organization, Crittenton Services of Greater Washington, partners with schools in Washington, D.C., and Maryland to run multi-year programs for girls. Leadership development doesn’t happen overnight. Our program must be flexible to address the varying needs of girls in different life stages and react to evolving political, school, and community environments.

The length and consistency of our presence in our girls’ lives have resulted in many achievements, including 97% graduation rates among our participants, even at schools with 50% overall graduation rates. 

In order to have deep results, funders should commit to multi-year investments. Impacts of the virus will be felt for years to come. It will require significant investments to reduce the numerous disparities — racial, gender, geographic, economic and academic — that grew due to the pandemic.

Nonprofits cannot afford to start from scratch every year, nor should funders think one-and-done. We need operational support and structures to meet the increased need and real cost of our work. 

It’s a strategy they should be employing as a standard, not just in crisis. Multi-year funding is crucial for the health, growth and effectiveness of nonprofits. It enables grantees to respond to crises and opportunities, maintain staff continuity and organizational leadership, overcome unforeseeable challenges and improve planning.

Focus on root causes

Initially, parents and school counselors seek out our programs to address issues like poor academic performance and difficult behaviors and personalities.

While the individual issues vary, the root of these issues is typically low self-esteem, lack of interpersonal skills, and disengaged students due to underfunded schools and challenging communities. 

However, a more confident student with a clear vision for her life, with access to technology, tutors, mentors and other support, is motivated to do better in school because she sees a future she can work toward. We meet girls where they are, not where we perceive them to be.

Problems do not exist in vacuums. As society reopens, funders must be wary of driving instability by chasing the issue du jour and directing funding away from programs and activities that solve root causes.

It’s the equivalent of putting a bandaid on a bullet wound. Compounding issues brought on the disparities that we work to address. Instead, funders should maintain and increase support to programs and policies that specialize in preventive and holistic care. Funders must have an intersectional approach to serving the whole individual and their broader community. 

Change listening and power structures

At the start of the pandemic, Crittenton shifted our work from an after-school program to a direct service organization that provides technology and, frankly, other supplies essential for survival. 

At the request of our girls, we resumed our programs in a virtual model because they said it was necessary for their success and wellbeing. Soon thereafter, my program directors feared burnout due to increased workload and stress supporting their families and caring for families in crisis. 

I then got my team certified in trauma-informed care and contracted therapists and built a mental health program for the team. I listened to the realities on the ground, trusted the leadership of the people affected by the problem, and responded accordingly. The same must happen in philanthropy. Funders must listen, learn, and let the people with the lived experience inform the support that they need.

All evidence shows that women, in particular women of color, are bearing the brunt of this crisis. From record job loss to increased caregiving responsibilities and diminished mental health, this pandemic has exposed the fact that although women are essential to the stability of communities, they are the most vulnerable people in our society. 

In philanthropy, the reality on the ground is that nonprofits, especially community organizations run by women and people of color, are vulnerable. 

Historically, we’ve been underfunded and lacked connections to donor networks and circles. Now, the K-shaped recovery coupled with record government budget shortfalls, shifting priorities, and increasing needs threatens our existence and the integral role we play in communities. True change requires that funders create better structures to invest, grow, and sustain the leaders that reflect the communities they serve.

The COVID-19 pandemic has allowed the philanthropic industry to lead recovery efforts by creating true conditions for success and equity.  This means increasing multi-year funding opportunities so that grantees can plan and sustain their work in communities with the greatest need. Funders need to put on holistic and intersectional lenses.

Rather than chase short-term solutions, they need to prioritize sources, not symptoms of disparities. Lastly, funders can create conditions for success by flipping the power dynamics in philanthropy.

This means listening to program directors who intimately follow issues to inform giving needs. It also means a commitment to more equity in philanthropy and giving circles so that those closest to the source of the problem can access the resources and networks they need to lead.

Siobhan Davenport is the president & CEO of Crittenton Services of Greater Washington, a nonprofit that empowers teen girls to overcome obstacles, make positive choices, and achieve their dreams. 

This week, a jury of Minnesotans found former police officer Derek Chauvin guilty in the murder of George Floyd. We are thankful that some measure of accountability has been delivered to his family, but deep in our hearts, we also know that more must be done to provide the kind of safety, security and justice he and so many others have been denied.  

One guilty verdict doesn’t mean that racism embedded in our society has been purged from the criminal justice system. If it had, George Floyd — and Ma’Khia Bryant, Adam Toledo, Daunte Wright and too many others to name — would still be alive. Fear, power and prejudice continue to fuel deadly state violence.  

The problem is systemic and so too must be the solution. This successful prosecution is one small step in a long journey. It should be painfully obvious that much work lies ahead of us to create a world where the lives of Black Americans are respected and our system holds everyone equal under the law, regardless of their position or power. 

What can and what should philanthropy do? 

4 Actions will make a difference  

1. Make Space for Care: This is a time of great pain, frustration and hurt. It’s also a time to show care for your friend, your colleague, your neighbor — especially from Black and other communities of color — who have been and continue to be triggered and traumatized by systematic dehumanization and racism in all parts of life.  Whether you are waking up to this reality or have long been involved in the struggle for basic civil and human rights, the toll on our collective health, energy and spirit is immense just the same.

2. Fund the Walk: It is a time to do more than empathize with Black, Indigenous, Latinx, Asian American and other communities that have been systematically discriminated, under-resourced and kept at the margins. Solidarity requires action, not just rhetoric. It is time to fund their service organizations, community groups, advocacy organizations and emerging leaders. It is time to put more money to the movements that are on the frontlines of the fight.

3. Commit to Dismantling White Supremacy: We know that to leave this nation better for succeeding generations, we must tackle and dismantle systemic racism and the white supremacy that is baked into the DNA of this country and its institutions of power, including philanthropy. It’s time to take a hard look at who and how we are funding and ask whether we can be doing better.

4. Redefining Safety: It is time to financially support immediate, short-term and long-term efforts that redefine policing beyond the violence-based approach of traditional law enforcement. There are groups doing exciting work on this all over the country, including those in the city of Ithaca and Tompkins County that have developed a proposal that would create a public safety department that would deploy social workers and other experts to de-escalate situations and provide help without the threat of force. It is time to stop tinkering with the world as it is, but rather invest in leaders and efforts that are re-imagining the world as it could be.  

Philanthropy must move quickly so that this verdict is not just a step in the right direction, but the impetus for a strong, sustained push towards justice. No one deserves to live in fear that their every interaction with law enforcement may result in their family becoming the next one to tearfully join the nation in awaiting yet another jury verdict. Now is the time to work together to urgently share and redirect resources that can change – and save – lives. 

Aaron Dorfman is president and CEO of NCRP.

Editor’s note: This post was originally published on NCRP’s Medium page.

Society is battling threats on multiple fronts: The pandemic, ongoing police brutality and anti-Black violence, rapid climate change and the cascading effects are falling squarely on the shoulders of Black, brown and Indigenous youth and their communities.

Despite facing mounting challenges, young people and community organizing groups are articulating solutions and realizing substantial wins — and have been doing so for decades.

Youth-led organizers have championed the call for divesting from prisons, defunding the police and investing more in education, housing and social services. They have helped elevate these demands to the mainstream dialogue, contributing to momentum behind a new federal bill called the BREATHE Act and some public schools ending their contracts with police.

We in philanthropy who work closely with young leaders know that resourcing youth organizing groups is part of the formula for social change. Yet, foundations give roughly $200 million per year to youth organizing — a drop in the bucket compared to $1.8 billion in funding for youth development. And few funders give youth a direct say over where and how these funds should be deployed.

So why aren’t more funders giving youth organizers more grants over the long haul? Why are we afraid to follow the leadership of young people and cede decision-making power?

White supremacy is holding funders back

Philanthropic refusal to listen to grantees and, beyond soliciting advice, formally committing to position directly impacted people at the decision-making table, is our largest deficiency as a sector. For far too long, too many funders have talked about sharing power with grantee partners, only to end up stalled in the land of theory and no action.

Communities would rightfully pull our grant and refuse to fund us ever again were the power dynamic to be reversed. Yet, while we have seen a number of participatory grantmaking models in action, most foundations have delayed creating formal mechanisms that give communities a direct say over grants.

A large reason why is the continued influence and power of white supremacy.

Inherent to white supremacy is that Black, Latinx, Asian American and Indigenous youth and their communities are unequal to white communities and unworthy of equal power, access, and economic investment. White supremacy has excluded BIPOC communities and their intellectual powers from the mainstream narratives and closed doors to the rooms where decision-making happens, treating them as incapable of managing their own economic and political power.

Philanthropy, much like our national identity and economy, was originally constructed on a foundation of white supremacy. Like it or not, it has and continues to shape how foundations work. Most philanthropic institutions fund organizations that they believe have the best ideas, strategies and shots at success. Often, their confidence is rooted in the false narrative that wealth equals expertise and that, as a result, some community-based nonprofits, especially in Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC) communities, can’t possibly have better solutions than their foundation colleagues.

However, what would happen if we widely practiced a philanthropic model that requires funders resource organizations that movement groups believe are best positioned to lead and deserve resources?

What would happen if we acknowledged the white supremacist elephant in the room, let alone do something about it?

The opportunity to build aligned, lasting power
The question of stewardship of resources and decision-making power is where philanthropy can contest white supremacy. In reflecting on philanthropy’s practices, funders have the opportunity to transform themselves from the inside out.

In doing so, they can transfer power to directly impacted youth and build long-term power for BIPOC communities. More importantly, we can ensure that resources are deployed precisely where they are needed most — from the perspective of communities who carry the burden and live the impact.

6 Steps toward visionary freedom

Here are 6 steps funders can take to challenge white supremacy, shift power to communities and support youth-designed transformative, visionary freedom:

1. Reckon with racism, white supremacy and power.

Funders must make time to do the personal work of learning about and undoing racism, white supremacy and power.

There is a wide gap between the lived experiences of those with more access to wealth and low-income, BIPOC communities, which is evident in the family philanthropy sector. To bridge this gap, trustees and staff must commit to education and set aside the time to become anti-racist.

Board and staff must take this learning journey together to understand, identify and actively change the policies, behaviors and beliefs that perpetuate racism. This will help heal the harm caused by institutional and generational racism often shouldered by communities and staff of color.

It will also open foundations to a culture of not just listening but acting accountably. It can widen the entry way for traditionally overlooked and excluded youth and communities to participate democratically and begin the accountability and healing process required to truly end the harm caused by racism.

2. Bring youth and communities to the table.

Sometimes funders believe it’s not possible to include youth voices in decision-making. But in reality, there are several funder collaboratives that closely engage BIPOC youth organizing groups so that those closest to the problem inform funding to their communities.

These models build relationships and skills for youth and funders and root decisions in the lived experiences and realities of those who will directly benefit from the change being funded.

The Funders’ Collaborative on Youth Organizing, Grantmakers for Girls of Color and the Communities for Just Schools Fund are exemplars of how to consult, involve and value the voices of youth organizers.

The Native Voices Rising Fund has committees of youth and community members who actively direct grantmaking. The abundance of investment opportunities shows that we only need to unlock the willingness to share capital with communities in poverty.

3. Nurture and fund interdependence.

We must prioritize funding in intersectional, interconnected and collaborative ways, and support networks of organizations to steward resources together.

This approach promotes interdependence and collective problem-solving. The California Funders for Boys and Men of Color aligns resources and networks held by the CEOs from the state’s leading philanthropic institutions to support a constellation of groups serving BIPOC men and boys, helping lessen competition and support collaborative approaches.

Justice Funders have developed a Resonance Framework to support foundations in democratizing power and shifting economic control to communities while reducing extraction and promoting a just transition.

4. Be accountable to communities.

In practice, the threshold for movement leaders to be deemed expert enough to sit on philanthropic advisory boards is inequitable, by far surpassing the requirements to sit on family philanthropy boards.

If philanthropy wants to catalyze change beyond grant life cycles, it must be willing to cede decision-making power to those directly impacted by how those dollars will flow to youth-led work. The Decolonizing Wealth Project regularly educates donors on the imperative of shifting power and returning resources to communities as a path towards collective healing.

Electing directly impacted youth community board members, building funding advisory councils and moving resources to participatory grantmaking vehicles are just some of the necessary commitments that would proactively support youth leadership.

Hiring staff from the organizations and communities they fund and creating leadership pipelines for young people for these positions would not only provide additional support, but also help increase foundations’ accountability to communities and the movements that sustain them.

5. Engage in solidarity philanthropy

Funding visionary work requires a deep level of trust, and the burden is on funders and trustees to extend trust to their partners — especially young people.

Many of the antiquated rules funders follow slow grantees and funders down. Part with these practices! Trust-based philanthropy outlines a set of 6 principles that we can collectively use. We must create diverse learning and action spaces dedicated to building solidarity relationships with movements, like the Visionary Freedom Fund (VFF) or Funders for Justice.

To follow the lead of directly impacted communities and learn how they are networked and collaborate, funders must build authentic relationships with those communities and examine biases against youth leadership. Foundation staff should do the heavy lifting.

6. Join the Visionary Freedom Fund learning community.

The Andrus Family Fund’s recently-launched VFF is an example of participatory grantmaking that moves decision-making power to young people directly impacted by the youth justice system. VFF’s Power Table has convened 8 youth organizers with a broad vision of what their communities need to thrive, 4 adult movement leaders and 11 funders to collaboratively determine where the $2.6 million initiative should distribute its resources.

As we embark on this experiment to design new grantmaking structures rooted in collectivism, interdependence, transferring power, right relationship and creative visioning, we invite other funders to join the VFF Learning Community. Together, we can learn and act toward transformative change for youth and their communities.

Manuela Arciniegas is director of the Andrus Family Fund. Bryan Perlmutter and Jessica Pierce are principles and co-founders at Piece by Piece Strategies.

We at NCRP sit with heavy hearts over the continued anti-Asian violence that has been going on across the nation during the last year, including this week’s shootings of Tan Xiajie, Julie Park, Feng Daoyou, Park Hyeon Jeong, Delaina Ashley Yaun and Paul Andre Michaels in Atlanta. We acknowledge the grief and fear from these continued assaults and the longstanding racist lies and tropes that have fueled them even before the recent pandemic. Pain that directly results from the general failure of society to deal with gender violence that sees an overwhelming majority of these recent assaults directed at women.

We stand with our Asian American staff, friends and partners in not just in denouncing these acts of violence, but also in calling for our sector to use the power of its voice and its grant dollars. That specifically includes supporting a new normal that makes Asian American and Pacific Islander organizations part of their regular grantmaking and advancing a more holistic racial-equity strategy that tackles gender-based and anti-immigrant violence.

Another hard look in the American mirror

The truth is that the shooting of 8 people, including 6 Asian women, is yet another tragic reminder of the life-threatening consequences that communities — and Black, Indigenous, People of Color women and trans people specifically — face when we fail to actively address this nation’s destructive foundation of misogyny, anti-Blackness and white supremacy. It’s a story that includes not just a centuries-long history of sexual violence against Asian women that is rooted in imperialism and colonialism, but one that is ever present. One just has to look at what’s on television and in the movies to see the dehumanizing, sexualized stereotypes that seem only in the service of white, cisgender men.

Red Canary Song, a grassroots collective of Asian and migrant sex workers, organizing transnationally, explains it best: “The women who were killed faced specific racialized gendered violence for being Asian women and massage workers. Whether or not they were actually sex workers or self-identified under that label, we know that as massage workers, they were subjected to sexualized violence stemming from the hatred of sex workers, Asian women, working class people, and immigrants.”

Where we go from here

If January’s attempted insurrection didn’t provide a clue, it should be clear by now that we will all have to directly confront the dangerous repercussions of how the last 4 years have emboldened white supremacy in a way few thought possible.

That’s why, more than ever, philanthropy has to commit to practical rapid response and investment in safeguarding communities and the organizers who serve them. In the immediate aftermath, it means listening to local groups like Asian Americans Advancing Justice – Atlanta, which said community members need “robust and responsive crisis intervention resources,” including mental health, legal and immigration services. It also means challenging click-bait driven media narratives that spend more time focusing on Black-Asian hostility than on exploring the unjust, exclusionary policies and systems that are at the root of those racial tensions.

Long term, philanthropy cannot allow a fight against anti-Asian racism distract from its efforts to rooting out anti-Black racism. It would also do well to adopt a grantmaking framework, advocated by groups like the Ella Baker Center, that reimagines safety as security that isn’t based on the use of force, militarized law enforcement and criminalization of communities of color, but on addressing the root causes of violence and providing community care. And on ensuring that we have local infrastructures that provide individuals and families with the economic, educational, language and health-related resources to heal from systematic trauma and reach their potential.

That will certainly mean continued moments of discomfort and well-intentioned missteps from institutions. It will also mean that some friends, more than others, will have to play catch up as they do their own important work in addressing these issues internally and personally.

But it can also mean bold imagination, healing joy and new expressions of love.

Our commitment to justice, liberation — and each other — demands nothing less.

When I became pregnant with my first child, I had health insurance, financial stability and excellent prenatal care.  

I had a home, nutritious food, a car, a hospital located nearby and someone to drive me there.  

I hadn’t done anything to deserve these things. I had them largely because as a white, upper class woman there are multiple societal structures built to give me the right to make certain choices — and to rob others of the same opportunity.  

I was able to choose to delay parenthood until my 30s because I had the right to access comprehensive sex education and contraception. I chose an OB/GYN that provided premium care because I had access to the right to health care. My parents and grandparents were not redlined or subjected to predatory lending, but instead had access to the right to housing that created the generational wealth I used to buy a home in the neighborhood of my choice. 
 
“Choice” in mainstream, predominately white-led reproductive rights discourse typically refers to the individual right to make one specific choice: whether (or not) to have an abortion.   

A reproductive justice lens looks at the society surrounding that individual — not just at one choice, but at the multiple of choices that people should be able to make about their bodies and lives and why some groups of people have the right to do so while others do not.  

Who gets to make which choices — or gets a choice at all — is a structural issue. NCRP’s new focus on reproductive access and gendered violence in our Movement Investment Project continues our support for frontline groups combatting the structures that stand in the way of social justice.   

We are proud to feature movement leaders who help connect the dots and urge us to think differently about the nexus of reproductive access, race, class and inclusion.  

Sharing abortion stories means investing in storytellers as leaders

The power of personal stories to reflect and shift societal structures is the focus of We Testify, whose founder Renee Bracey Sherman contributed this first-person account on abortion storytellers.

Sex education funding: There has to be a better way

Reproaction Deputy Director Shireen Rose Shakouri calls on philanthropy to support the right to comprehensive sex education in the face of a conservative movement that seeks to limit young people’s choices through shaming, stigma and misinformation.  

Philanthropy must invest in Black-led organizations to improve maternal mortality

A Q&A by NCRP staff of National Birth Equity Collaborative President Dr. Joia Crear-Perry makes clear that systemic racism is at the root of inequity in maternal health and morbidity, and investing in Black women-led organizations and solutions are the only path forward to addressing it.   

We hope you engage with the critical questions and calls to action from our authors and look forward to working collectively to support reproductive justice! 

Editor’s note: This post was originally published on NCRP’s Medium page and on Candid’s blog.

The COVID-19 pandemic disrupted every aspect of life around the globe and exacerbated perennial challenges such as entrenched poverty, hunger, lack of access to health care and racial inequality. 

In spite of the challenge presented by social distancing requirements, the U.S.’s civil society has mobilized to begin meeting historic levels of need for direct services. 

And as a reinvigorated movement for Black civil and human rights swelled again last spring and summer, organizations working at the intersection of advocacy, community organizing and systems change have stepped up, too. U.S. foundations, corporations and individual donors have responded, and according to Candid, more than $10.7 billion in U.S. grantmaking has been dedicated to meeting the COVID-19 challenge so far.

There is no doubt that philanthropy has responded to COVID-19 on a scale not seen before. Nearly 800 philanthropic organizations signed on to the Council on Foundations pledge calling on foundations to commit significant resources in response to COVID-19 and reduce grant restrictions and reporting requirements for their grantees. 

A July and August survey by the Center for Effective Philanthropy (CEP) found that 72% of surveyed foundations said they had increased their 2020 payout above what they had planned for the year. “Almost all” surveyed foundations reported a new strategic focus on supporting Black communities and other marginalized people during the ongoing COVID crisis, and 80% of surveyed funders said they were prioritizing systems change funding.

A survey of 500 of the largest U.S. foundations by scholars at the University of Washington Evans School of Public Policy (fielded between May and August) found that 75% reported they had relaxed restrictions on grants, making it easier for recipients to use the funds to meet emergency needs. Most (70%) said they’d started a COVID-specific response fund. But less than one-third reported they had increased their payout percentage. 

The dissonance between this final statistic and that gathered by CEP’s survey demonstrates the limitations of reporting percentages from limited sample sizes.

The debate will continue whether foundations and other donors have done enough to fulfill their obligations during the ongoing crises gripping the country. Candid will not have a full picture of 2020 grantmaking until more giving data becomes available — ideally from funders submitting their grants directly to Candid. (Find out more about submitting grants data.)

There are, however, already some major takeaways from Candid’s COVID-19 grantmaking data as well as some major unanswered questions.

What we know

● As of Jan. 13, Candid has tracked $10.7 billion across 24,349 grants by foundations, corporations, and large individual donors to respond to the COVID-19 pandemic in the U.S.

● Candid identified an additional $8.2 billion representing 290 pledges. Candid distinguishes between grants, contributions for a specified amount to a recipient, and pledges, which generally reflect the announced intention to provide funding, typically in response to a crisis or emergency. In some cases, there may be double-counting between grants and pledges in Candid’s database.

● Of U.S. grants funding to address COVID-19, 7% ($727 million, 551 grants) also addresses issues of racial equity. These grants are also captured in Candid’s racial equity map for 2020.

Tracking the philanthropic response to the COVID-19 pandemic provided Candid with an opportunity to scale up its collection of data on giving by individuals and corporations. Together, these 2 types of funders are responsible for 75% of U.S. COVID grants funding and 67% of pledged funding that Candid has collected so far.

How is COVID giving different?

Based on available U.S. grants data, grantmaking in response to the pandemic appears to have been designated for social justice and BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and people of color)-serving initiatives at higher rates than we’ve typically seen.1

● Some 28% of U.S. COVID giving so far has been for social justice strategies.2 Between 2003 and 2016, just 9–12% of U.S. giving by the Foundation 1000 was for comparable strategies.

● One-tenth of U.S. grant dollars and 5% of U.S. pledged dollars for COVID have been designated explicitly to benefit Black communities. Only 2% of Foundation 1000 giving has been designated this way in previous years.

● Some 0.9% of total COVID-19 grant dollars (and zero pledged dollars) were designated explicitly to benefit Indigenous and American Indian communities, compared to just 0.1% of the total in previous years.

What Candid’s data can’t tell us

Candid has tracked but has found little detail on 2 types of COVID-19 funding. Together, they comprise significant chunks of all private giving in response to COVID-19 tracked to date:

● Pledges. As noted earlier, these are intentions to give specified amounts at some point in the future (290 pledges, $8 billion). They account for 43% of all U.S. COVID funding tracked by Candid so far.

● Grants to multiple or unknown recipients. These are specific gifts that have been announced but that, aside from the grant amount, contain little to no information about the organizations receiving the funds (1,200 grants, $5.5 billion). More than half (51%) of U.S. COVID grants tracked by Candid so far can only be attributed to multiple or unknown recipients.

This breakdown between verifiable, detailed grants data and gifts with an expression of intent and little else plays out in different ways across different kinds of giving:

A chart breaking down the giving percentage for different groups of people of color.

More specifically, Candid’s detailed grants data suggests that funders are explicitly focusing on communities of color to vastly different degrees — 20% of grants to named recipients were expressly focused on Black communities, but less than 5% each for Latinx people, Asian American Pacific Islander people and Indigenous people. 

And while a substantial portion of grant dollars to multiple or unnamed recipients (41% in either case) reportedly serve BIPOC communities and support social justice strategies, the lack of detail about this funding prevents more in-depth analysis. Without more information, it is impossible to confirm who is receiving this funding and in what amounts.

More research is also required to determine whether funders are making good on their commitments. At this time, Candid has only been able to find associated grants information for roughly 24% of COVID-19 pledges.

There are various possible explanations for this discrepancy: 

1. Grants associated with the pledge haven’t been awarded yet. 

2. Grants were awarded, but not publicly announced. 

3. Grants were publicly announced, but Candid hasn’t yet come across the announcement or processed the data.

Finally, and perhaps most important, Candid can only track what they find (i.e., what is made publicly available or shared directly). While foundation funding will eventually become available via foundations’ 990s (though not necessarily at a very descriptive level) Candid can only track funding from high-net-worth individuals, corporate direct giving programs and LLCs if it’s publicly announced. No mandated mechanism for transparency exists.

To what extent has philanthropy’s COVID response has been sufficient, effective and just? Here are the questions NCRP and Candid will be looking for answers to in 2021.

4 Big questions raised by the data

1. Will donors and foundations make good on their pledges to communities of color? 
Spring and summer of 2020 — and more specifically, the community organizing led by Black grassroots activists — inspired a wave of announcements of new racial justice philanthropy initiatives. How and when will those announcements of intent be realized? Will the philanthropic momentum built by BIPOC leaders continue into 2021?

2. How much funding for COVID work in communities of color will go to work by and for those communities?
We know — both because BIPOC in philanthropy have said so for decades and because the quantitative data shows us — that BIPOC-led organizations are systematically underfunded due to implicit and explicit biases in our grantmaking practices. Will philanthropy’s COVID-driven investments in BIPOC communities reach work by and for those communities?

3. Will the philanthropic response to COVID change how grantmaking is done, or just how much?
Hundreds of the country’s largest foundations have pledged to change their grantmaking practices to embrace more flexible MYGOD (multi-year general operating dollars) funding practices. Candid’s data doesn’t capture instances where funding has been pre-paid, project support has been converted to general operating support or reporting requirements have been relaxed. But it does seem to point to a new focus on social justice strategies and general support funding in the COVID pandemic response. Will changes like these be durable? Will more foundations adopt them?

4. To what extent will donors share the details of their grantmaking — either publicly, or better yet, directly with Candid — as long as mandatory reporting does not exist? 
The law requires foundations to disclose sparingly little information about their grantmaking, and it requires next to no disclosure from individual donors or corporate giving. Despite this lack of requirement, Twitter’s Jack Dorsey has shown a high degree of transparency through a publicly available spreadsheet where his LLC, Start Small, is sharing details about how it’s disseminating the $1 billion he’s committed in response to the pandemic. We encourage other donors and foundations to follow this example and share grants-level information about their giving, including through Candid’s eReporting program.

Over the past year, we’ve seen funders take drastic actions to support their grantees and their communities. The scale and newness of philanthropy’s COVID-19 response demands extensive analysis by many researchers using a variety of methods. We hope this preliminary analysis will inspire others to dive deeper into Candid’s data on COVID-19 philanthropy and look forward to working together to better understand a most unprecedented year in giving.

1. The Foundation 1000 is Candid’s annual data set capturing all grants of $10,000 or more awarded by 1,000 of the largest U.S. foundations each year. The set is used to identify trends in U.S. foundation giving and, here, represents “typical” grantmaking. 

2. Candid uses a definition for social justice grantmaking it developed in collaboration with NCRP that includes subject and strategy codes like community organizing, democracy, human rights, environmental justice, health care access, and others. Read more here.

Ryan Schlegel is NCRP’s research director. Follow @r_j_schlegel on Twitter. 

Anna Koob is Candid’s director of research standards.

Editor’s note: Check out this post on NCRP’s Medium page for a Q&A with authors Jason Baisden, Paula Swepson and Mary Snow.

Many rural areas have strong agricultural industries, deep manufacturing roots and committed local residents. Yet, people living in these communities are less likely to have access to health services and have a lower life expectancy than their urban neighbors.

One of those communities is McDowell County, N.C. in the Appalachian Mountain region of western North Carolina. This scenic location provides abundant natural assets such as Pisgah National Forest, Linville Caverns, the Catawba River, Lake James and the Blue Ridge Parkway. These attractions draw tourists, retirees, and sightseers. Like many rural areas, McDowell County has felt the effects of lost manufacturing, but has been able to maintain and attract key employers.

Photo of Mary Snow and Paula Swepson

Mary Snow (left) and Paula Swepson

Since 2012, the Kate B. Reynolds Charitable Trust has worked with Healthy Places NC in counties like McDowell to develop change networks and build capacity for residents to lead the work. Residents have set clear goals and strategies and are tackling health issues as well as social determinants of health — the factors outside of the medical office that impact a person’s health — head on.

They are working on critical health concerns including: obesity reduction; substance misuse; access to care; and adverse childhood experiences. Throughout the Healthy Places NC journey, the trust has learned valuable lessons that have helped reshape its grantmaking approach and can serve as a guide to the field:

1. Start by listening. Each community is unique, but your outcomes-focused process should remain the same: Community members are the experts on what they need to live happy, healthy lives. They also know the barriers that exist as well as the dynamics and historical factors behind them. And when listening it is key to seek both feedback and hard truths.  

For example, one of our strong partners in McDowell, West Marion Community Forum, expressed their frustration with the trust with regards to funding. They attempted to bring several programs under one umbrella, as part of their overall strategy in the county, only to be told by us to “break it up” into several different grants.

Over time, as Healthy Places evolved, our strategy and approach shifted, and we began to question why these various projects weren’t organized under one coordinating initiative (West Marion Community Forum). Because we had built a strong relationship, we were able to have an honest conversation, which has helped us not only in McDowell County but in other communities as well.

Photo Jason Baisden

Jason Baisden

2. Make a long-term commitment. Creating change is not a short-term project so it is critical to build real and lasting relationships with community partners. The trust has been working in McDowell County for close to 10 years to build community trust.

For the last 5 years we have used that work to intentionally amp up targeted outreach and relationship building with communities of color. This long-term commitment has supported a growing infrastructure of changemakers in McDowell and our other Healthy Places communities.

They are now being tapped by other funders on key initiatives, and we anticipate partnering with them in the coming years as a part of our growing equitable health outcomes work.

3. Put equity at the center of everything you do. Invest in community engagement strategies that are driven by those most impacted by inequities. Ensure that people of color and those with low incomes have a voice in helping their community succeed — and begin to change historic and intentionally racist systems in equitable ways.

This needs to be more than aspirational. Get out of your office and have meals with community members. Show up at their events. Find ways to create small “wins.”

Once you have found local community members and leaders, invest in them and in the creation of the organizations they run or need to create. And when you do, fund their organizations at the amount needed to do the work. Bake in general operating funds and resources that will be required as they seek additional funding from sources.

4. Champion grassroots leaders and bring unlikely partners to the table. This support ripples out into the community and sends a powerful signal to local institutions and policymakers that community partners should not be sidelined or excluded from decision-making spaces.

Support the capacity of leaders of color and lift up new voices, so everyone has a seat at the table in determining just solutions. Not only will you increase their voice in the community, but you can also raise their profile with other funders.

West Marion Community Forum was able to leverage initial Kate B. Reynolds Charitable Trust funding to secure a $600,000 grant from Blue Cross Blue Shield of North Carolina Foundation to work on systems change with the hospital system in McDowell.

5. Invest in impact. Enhance the effectiveness of your grantmaking by increasing power, support and capacity in communities that have been marginalized. Boost promising and proven programs that can be scaled up and projects that activate systems change.

Our work in McDowell County and with West Marion Community Forum in particular is a tribute to this approach. You can read more about it in Paula Swepson and Mary Snow’s recently published Shift Happens, but, as a teaser: By amplifying emerging leaders and organizations that represent communities of color and others that had been traditionally marginalized, we have seen incredible results.

This includes a local leader outside of the political system running to be a county commissioner, snow removal happening in Black communities first instead of last, the passing of a minimum housing standard in the city of Marion, voter education campaigns and forums, as well as the expansion of the community forum model to additional communities in the county.

Paula Swepson and Mary Snow are leading community organizers in the Southern Appalachian region. In the past 4 years, they have raised more than $3 million from public and private foundations for rural community engagement and grassroots movement building initiatives. They have hosted more than 150 community forums, bringing together citizens to discuss issues like housing, immigration, racial equity and policing. They registered new voters, organized candidate forums and engaged lawyers to discuss voting rights. In 2020, they raised $20,000 to create a community mural that memorializes the fight for civil rights in Old Fort, N.C.

Jason Baisden is the senior program officer at the Kate B. Reynolds Charitable Trust. Learn more.