Can philanthropy relinquish enough power and control to support BIPOC communities in governing resources for themselves?
Doing so requires a radical expansion of the imagination and an investment in community self-determination.
By Jennifer Near, Justice Funders
We are witnessing a catalytic moment in the long arc of history toward justice and liberation. It is a moment that provides an opportunity to deepen people’s awareness of how intersecting systems of oppression operate, and organize them to take action. Individuals with class privilege and positional power, in particular, are beginning to come to terms with how they have both contributed to and benefited from systems of oppression such as white supremacy and anti-Blackness, and are expressing a desire to be part of the solution to combat these systems instead.
Among the many sectors of our society that are beginning to take greater action than ever before is the philanthropic community, with a wave of new funding commitments being made in support of racial justice. But for a field that has been known to perpetuate the very social and economic injustices it seeks to address, the specifics of any action matter immensely. Some funders, especially those who have not historically invested in Black, Indigenous and People of Color (BIPOC) communities, are experiencing a “knee jerk” response to this current moment, resulting in a desire for quick fixes such as asking peers for a list of BIPOC-led groups to support or creating mechanisms in which BIPOC leaders can “advise” them (often without compensation) on what to fund. Sometimes these efforts may drive more resources to critical BIPOC organizing work toward creating systemic change. But more often than not, they are false solutions in that the control of capital and the decision-making processes over how resources are allocated remain in the hands of those with wealth and institutional power.
The continued accumulation and privatization of wealth, land and other resources in the hands of the few at the expense of the many will accelerate the destruction of our democracy and the social fabric of this country.
We will never dismantle anti-Blackness and white supremacy until we have a process of reparations that includes redistributing both the wealth and power that has been generated from stolen Indigenous lands, enslaved Black labor and the extraction of wealth from BIPOC communities.
For philanthropy, this means that the work of investing in BIPOC communities must be done in ways that transfer decision-making power over how resources are allocated. This requires deep and authentic relationships of trust with communities from whom wealth and power have been stolen, who understand best how those resources can be utilized to transform our economy from one rooted in extraction, exploitation and domination to one based in cooperation, caring and interdependence. When funding decisions are made through processes that maintain power and control in the hands of private foundation staff and trustees, rather than by communities most impacted by our extractive economic system, philanthropic institutions are perpetuating injustice against the very communities they seek to support.
The work of investing in BIPOC communities must also be done in ways that build the capacity of communities and movements to govern resources for themselves. Philanthropic institutions must become active accomplices to communities in their struggle to build collective governance models rooted in democratic decision making and shared prosperity toward a just and regenerative economy.
For those in philanthropy who are committed to dismantling white supremacy and anti-Blackness, are we willing to challenge our assumptions and habits in order to transform who and what we value, give up power and control, and build the authentic relationships needed to align our priorities in support of BIPOC communities in their struggle for self-determination and liberation?
Democratic governance in practice
Having been shut out of institutional decision-making structures due to the forces of white supremacy and anti-Blackness, BIPOC communities have practiced collective governance for decades and centuries as a mechanism of solidarity and survival. Mutual aid, cooperative business development, and solidarity economy efforts have deep roots in domestic and global social justice movements, particularly Black power and liberation movements.
Today, there are numerous organizations and community efforts working to nurture the relationships, capacities and infrastructure needed to support community wealth building and the creation of collective governance models. Groups like NDN Collective, SEED Commons, Boston Ujima Project, and Buen Vivir Fund are raising capital and mobilizing grants and low-interest loans to support the development of cooperative businesses, cooperative loan funds and community-owned enterprises rooted in grassroots, BIPOC-led social movements. Sogorea Te’ Land Trust, Black Land and Power Fund and the Black Farmer Fund are facilitating the return of Indigenous land and restoring land that was worked and owed to enslaved Africans back to Black people. Groups like Right to the City Alliance, PUSH Buffalo, and East Bay Permanent Real Estate Cooperative are creating pathways for everyday people to organize, finance, acquire, and co-steward land and housing on their own terms.
All of these groups, and others like them, need support from philanthropy that includes grants, low- to zero-interest loans, technical support, and loan guarantees. NDN Collective is creating a Native Community Development Financial Institution (CDFI) which exemplifies how capital can be moved to BIPOC-led projects in regenerative, non-extractive ways. Resource Generation and the Sustainable Economies Law Center have also compiled resources on how funders and donors can support land reparations work. For funders and donors committed to divesting from structures that reinforce white supremacy and the concentration of economic power, including the stock market, the organizations and projects mentioned here are examples of where those divested assets can be reinvested.
Given the level of harm that has been caused to BIPOC communities through the theft of land, wealth and power over the last 500 years, it will take an enormous amount of resources to build the capacity of communities to govern for themselves and build new, regenerative economies that disrupt, reverse and repair this harm.
As a contributor to — and beneficiary of — white supremacy and the extractive economic system, philanthropy has a moral obligation to not only abundantly resource the BIPOC-led community organizing work to create these new collective governance models, it must also resource the critical work of groups like the U.S. Federation of Worker Cooperatives and New Economy Coalition to support our movements in re-imagining how to build and participate in new forms of economy.
Unfortunately, much of mainstream institutional philanthropy is unfamiliar with or skeptical about the work of BIPOC communities that are governing land, capital and other resources for themselves. In a field that reinforces hierarchical structures with tightly controlled, top-down decision-making processes, recognizing the value of collective governance requires a radical expansion of the imagination and a willingness to trust communities to do what is best for themselves. But a growing number of forward thinking and intrepid funders have been moving a combination of grants and low-interest loans to such groups to support them in building political and economic power and collectively governing their resources. These include The Libra Foundation, Arch Community Fund, Swift Foundation, Chorus Foundation, Fund for Democratic Communities, and individual members of Resource Generation.
Funders can take concrete action toward dismantling white supremacy and anti-Blackness by building authentic relationships with and investing in BIPOC leaders and communities who are practicing self-determination and collective governance, and doing so continuously and over the long-term such that these relationships can be called upon in moments of crisis. To be clear, moments of crisis are not the time to begin attempting to build authentic relationships. But for those who have yet to start, one step is to invest in the regranting and intermediary organizations with deep roots in grassroots BIPOC communities and that have already created collective decision-making structures, such as the Resource Table for the Movement for Black Lives, Third Wave Fund, and the Building Equity and Alignment Fund.
False solutions to redistributing power
To date, philanthropic “solutions” for shifting decision-making power have been limited to creating new governance structures inside of private institutions, such as participatory grantmaking models where community and movement leaders are invited to provide input on where resources should be directed. More diverse and inclusive representation can certainly be an initial step to moving dollars out of the control of wealthy, white people and institutions as a means of closing the racial wealth divide. However, as an end goal, it is a false solution because those resources are still ultimately managed by the institution and final decisions are ultimately controlled by its staff and trustees.
When resource distribution remains in the control of funders, it is severely challenging for grassroots movements and communities to prepare for and respond to moments of crisis, let alone work to advance deep, long-term change. Adapting and calibrating movement and organizational strategies in the face of intersecting systems of oppression requires self-determination over the resources that are required. For example, in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, an unprecedented amount of financial resources began flowing to the communities and organizations in Minneapolis that were leading the on-the-ground response. These groups were suddenly faced with the challenge of how to collectively distribute the millions of dollars that were pouring in from across the country to the range of organizing efforts that were taking place. This situation exemplifies the need for funders committed to systemic change to invest in more than just programs, projects and crisis response.
The greatest opportunity for transformation is to root our grantmaking and investment strategies in a reparations framework and to invest in the self-determination of communities to manage, grow and regenerate the collective resources they need to live with dignity and to thrive.
Imagine how the conditions might have looked dramatically different before and after George Floyd’s murder if Black grassroots leaders of Minneapolis had been in control of the community’s resources, including efforts to create true public safety?
The question of who controls and manages philanthropic resources is a question of who gets to drive and define social change. It is also a question of who those resources ultimately belong to. Is it the institutions that have accumulated wealth and power over centuries through the exploitation of labor and extraction of wealth from BIPOC communities? Or is it the BIPOC communities whose stolen land, labor and lives generated that wealth? If philanthropy is to truly commit to dismantling white supremacy and anti-Blackness, it must not only invest in BIPOC communities, but do so in a way that invests in community self-determination. Philanthropic institutions must shed their practices of domination and control, and instead trust in the ability and expertise of BIPOC communities to govern their own resources so that they can live with dignity and thrive.
We invite you to read the other posts in our series on Dismantling White Supremacy & Anti-Blackness in Philanthropy:
- Dismantling White Supremacy & Anti-Blackness in Philanthropy: A letter to our colleagues in philanthropy
- A Philanthropic Commitment to Dismantling White Supremacy and Anti-Blackness Must include Support for Defunding the Police
- Philanthropy’s Role in Dismantling White Supremacy and Anti-Blackness Toward a Just Transition
- How Philanthropy Gets to Transformation: The Human Experience of Change
