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Today marks the 60th anniversary of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom.  

As a white kid growing up in Atlanta suburbs and small towns, I first learned about the March in school, through grainy clips of Dr. King proclaiming the “I Have a Dream” speech to a crowd of thousands before the Lincoln Memorial. It felt almost like a movie: a powerful prologue to the Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act that came after. By now, that’s a familiar editing. It’s the same way I got the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee’s greatest hits, but not Fannie Lou Hamer’s legacy, or the way Rosa Parks’ lifetime of radical organizing for the Black Power movement so often gets reduced to one seat on one bus.  

The reality, of course, is far more complex. The 1963 March itself grew out of decades of organizing and a severe lack of national progress on civil rights. It echoed the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters’ threat to march in the 40s to end defense industry segregation, built on the late 50’s Prayer Pilgrimage and Youth Marches to protest inaction after Brown v Board, and drew breath from the countless local marches and acts of resistance that Black women, in particular, had organized across the South and beyond. Talented people disagreed, too: Malcolm X refused to participate, the AFL-CIO declined to join, and John Lewis edited his speech up to the day of to satisfy different factions. 

In short, it was messy and hard: one important chapter in a long, still-open story. The famous speeches and protests so many of us half-remember were powerful, but they alone did not ensure the incomplete success that followed. Activists today carry on that legacy in so many ways: disrupting the placement of fossil fuel infrastructure that worsens the climate crisis, ensuring people get access to abortion healthcare they deserve, providing support to their undocumented family and friends, protesting ongoing police violence on Black and trans bodies, and so much more. In other words, fighting for justice long denied “to remind America of the fierce urgency of now,” regardless of who these actions make uncomfortable.

Funder ambivalence 60 years ago and today 

Some funders embrace these organizers, their dreams and their tactics. The Solutions Project, for example, won a NCRP Impact Award in 2017 in part for their immediate support of Indigenous communities blocking the Dakota Access Pipeline. Other winners, like the Groundswell Fund and the Four Freedoms Fund, have long supported intersectional, grassroots movements for gender, racial, and migrant justice. They, too, follow and evolve a tradition. In addition to the Black-led mutual aid that sustained the movement’s core, institutional funders like the New World Foundation, Field Foundation, Stern Family Fund, and Taconic Foundation provided flexible support for civil rights organizations in the lead up to the March on Washington, organized other donors to the cause and even helped raise non-c3 dollars. 

But then as now, such funders remain relative outliers. Few of the 12,000 foundations present in the 1960s wanted anything to do with groups undertaking massive protests or litigating in the courts. In addition to the obvious white racism that pervaded the ranks of these foundations, even for those who sympathized with the movement’s cause, protest seemed – and was – risky. Civil rights protesters were routinely targeted and killed. Enforcement of the limited civil rights protections on the books was almost non-existent. And despite his sanitized approval today, when Dr. King gave his famous “I Have a Dream” speech, only 40% of Americans had a favorable opinion of him. That opinion declined to 30% by 1968, after he more publicly embraced labor protests, called for a massive federal aid program for Black people, and denounced the War in Vietnam. Even the Sterns of the Stern Foundation received anonymous threats of violence for their support, though thankfully, and unlike the Black organizers and their comrades on the frontlines facing lifelong injury, unemployment, and death for their activism, no physical harm befell them. 

Grassroots movements still struggle to find the resources they deserve. For example, despite a wave of statements and black squares after the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, and the many acts of vigilante and state violence against Black, queer and other communities of color since, the Philanthropic Initiative for Racial Equity has found a yawning chasm between the amount of money pledged for racial justice and the actual dollars that made it out the door. Moreover, from the data available, “only 1.3 percent of racial equity funding and 9.1 percent of racial justice funding supports grassroots organizing.” NCRP’s own nonprofit members tell us the same: for organizers of color with small budgets in conservative areas, it can be hard to even get a foundation meeting, let alone a meaningful multi-year grant. 

Bold Funders Cede Power 

Funders’ skittishness persists at a time when we need philanthropy to be more bold. Since 2017, 20 states have passed laws that criminalize protesting. In 2021 alone, lawmakers in 34 states introduced 81 anti-protest bills, double the amount in any other year.

Perhaps it’s no surprise that the institutions that most owe their wealth and existence to the systems we have would be the most reluctant to fund efforts to fundamentally change them. Given the distance between foundation leadership and the communities they serve, why wouldn’t funders misunderstand the obvious frustration boiling over generations of oppression as “disruptive,” or an escalation of tactics after thousands of shut doors as “divisive”? But when this misguided respectability politics dictates the invisible fences of their grantmaking, funders miss out and misfire, just like the funders before them.

To be clear, funder over-excitement can burn, too. Foundations can micromanage strategy, as the Garland Fund did with the NAACP’s choice of campaigns in the 50s. Or they can fall in love with the drama of protest but not the diligence of late-night meetings, community care, and the ups and downs of the struggle. When the headlines and cameras fade, acts of protest look different in different places, and a strong ecosystem of local, grassroots movement groups need funders to stay in solidarity and in their lane long before and after those moments of visibility. 

Yet a beautiful opportunity endures: Even if funders don’t cede their wealth and their power to grassroots movements for justice overnight, they can still choose to do something different today than they did yesterday.  

The week before I started my first and only foundation job, I picked up my friends from the local county jail. We had been participating in the Moral Monday rallies outside the North Carolina legislature, and my friends had intentionally risked arrest as an act of civil disobedience. I had been worried about getting arrested days before I started a new job, so after marching I did the next best thing: I brought snacks, and a ride home. But as I waited for them to be processed, I was surprised to find someone I’d only seen on web pages: the foundation’s board chair.

In his day job he was a lawyer, and he was there to provide pro bono support to the protesters. That moment told me two things.

First, I wasn’t about to get fired.

And second, foundation leaders can embrace the nuance and power of protest movements, if they choose.

60 years after the March on Washington, that choice remains.  

Ben Barge is NCRP’s Field Director. In this role, Barge strengthens NCRP’s relationships with U.S. social movements and philanthropic organizations to move money and power to community-led advocacy and organizing.

Banner Image Credits: Marion S. Trikosko. Taken August 28th, 1963, Washington D.C, United States (@libraryofcongress). Colorized by Jordan J. Lloyd. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division

Additional Image Credits: Ben Barge

Updated 7/22/16, 12:52 PM EDT

In the wake of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling’s deaths, foundations across the country released a new wave of public statements brimming with shock and horror. Many talked about solidarity with black communities. Some were honest enough to say they didn’t quite know what to do.

These words are important. They show philanthropy is made up of real people who pay attention when horrible things happen. But words aren’t enough. These tragedies aren’t about a single event, or a single person. They’re about a system of unjust laws and practices that consistently place black communities in greater danger. A statement by itself is a comment, but it’s not an action.

The next Tamir Rice and Sandra Bland can’t afford for philanthropy to hang its hat with a press release. If you’re a foundation trustee or staff member, a donor or donor advisor now is the time for action; not tomorrow, not next week, not next year. Funders can and should respond urgently by taking the following steps to share resources with black-led organizations working to change the complex policies, practices, biases and culture that allow racial injustice to flourish in the first place.

1) Listen to black-led organizations and black organizers confronting these injustices about what they need, and invite them to play a greater role in your grantmaking process.

The best place to start is in your own backyard. If your funding institution doesn’t already fund black community organizers, use this growing interactive map of black-led organizations addressing racial equity. Many of these folks have been doing vital, underfunded work long before #BlackLivesMatter began trending on Twitter.

Go out of your comfort zone to build relationships if you don’t have them already. Ask them what they need and be ready to respond, even if it’s a change from what you normally fund. A funder’s specialty or geographic focus is not an excuse to abstain from racial justice work, but rather a unique opportunity to make a difference.

Funders should also follow the calls to action already issued by Philanthropic Initiative for Racial Equity, the Philanthropic Action for Racial Justice and others in consultation with black organizers on the ground. All highlight the need for philanthropy to assess the biases within their own institutions, support black-led advocacy and organizing, use their bully pulpits to call for change and invest in sustainable ways that build the capacity of this work for the long-term, like leadership development, relationship building and flexible forms of grantmaking. These resources aren’t exhaustive, but they’re a great start.

2) Act decisively and inclusively on what you learn by devoting greater resources to black-led organizing currently operating on shoestring budgets.

As with any course of action, the devil is in the details. To ensure you have institutional buy-in, make the case to your trustees about why funding black-led organizing is crucial to your work. Ask program officers to take tests on implicit bias. Simplify your application procedures to create greater access to your programming and resources. Track who’s receiving your grants, and evaluate whether the leadership you support is as intersectional as the black women, LGBTQ folks, youth and formerly incarcerated people who are primarily leading this movement.

If your foundation hasn’t historically supported such work at significant levels, take a hard look in the mirror and ask why. Is it truly about “fit,” or have you unnecessarily defined your interest area in a way that black-led organizations have a hard time meeting? Is it honestly about staff capacity, or have you prioritized different things? Is it really about grantee capacity, or have you not taken the time to meet chronically underinvested black leaders where they are?

Funders before you like Hill-Snowdon, the Foundation for Louisiana, the Headwaters Foundation for Justice and others have already gone down this path. What’s most important is to take action now, rather than waiting until you feel comfortable later.

3) Be a leader in helping other peer funding institutions overcome their misconceptions, fear, or inertia to take similar steps and open up more resources for racial justice.

Funders have power in addition to the financial resources they provide. You can convene conversations in your local community and invite practitioners working on racial injustice to lead, like the Deaconess Foundation has done in St. Louis. You can talk about race explicitly as it relates to your field, like the Washington Regional Area Grantmakers’ “Putting Racism on the Table” series and the Sustainable Agriculture and Food Systems Funders’s latest conference. You can invoke the history of philanthropy in past civil rights struggles.

You can remind folks that saying “black lives matter” isn’t an attack against white people, but rather a chance to make this country greater for all of us.

You can even release a public statement. Just don’t stop there.

Ben Barge is a field associate at the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP). Follow @NCRP on Twitter.

CC image by Fibonacci Blue, modified under Creative Commons license.

I come from a pretty religious family. My dad, my aunt, my uncle and two cousins all followed a call into the clergy. I held the huppah at my sister’s interfaith wedding, and can still remember the shouts of “Mazel Tov!” right as the gospel choir burst into song.

As it was for me growing up, and as it is for many people of faith today, spring is a busy time of year. Easter and Holi just passed us by, and Passover and Lailat al Miraj are just a few days away. It’s a time when many religions celebrate spiritual rebirths and new beginnings.

Yet reading the news lately, I’d forgive you for wondering where the rejuvenation and spiritual nirvana is hiding. Anti-Muslim sentiment is growing across the country. Two hundred religious freedom bills targeting the rights of LGBTQ individuals have been introduced nationwide, and two of those bills have been put into law in North Carolina and Mississippi. Among the religious and secular alike, some might be wondering: Where is the good news? And what role does faith have to play in it?

These are important questions. To help, here are a few lesser-known stories for your consideration the next time you break bread:

  • In Flint, congregations and community groups like Michigan Faith in Action (MFA) organized a trip to Washington, D.C., for residents to testify in front of Congress about the lead contamination crisis and helped ensure the elderly and undocumented immigrants get access to clean bottled water.
  • On Twitter, dozens of Jewish organizations across the country are mounting an #ActonPassover campaign to encourage critical conversations on the timeless intersections between Judaism and the social and policy issues holding back justice today.
  • In New York, Desis Rising Up & Moving (DRUM) is coordinating advocacy efforts to protest the inhumane treatment and mass deportation of over 70 predominantly Muslim and Sikh migrants to the U.S. seeking asylum from political violence.

In each of these stories, communities are organizing to create a better future for themselves and for their neighbors who lack political voice. And for each, faith has offered cultural identity, common ground and strength to resist oppressive circumstances, as it has for countless before them.

That’s why I’m excited for the webinar we’re hosting tomorrow, Faithful Movements: The Role of Faith in Social Justice. Each of our featured guests is doing important work with faith-identified communities across the country.

First there’s Lauren Spokane, development director for the PICO National Network, a network of over 1000 member institutions and affiliates in 17 states – including MFA in Flint. Abby Levine will also speak in her capacity as executive director of Jewish Social Justice Roundtable – the architect of the #ActonPassover campaign. And Shireen Zaman will join us in her role as program director at the Proteus Fund’s Security & Rights Collaborative, which funds a diverse field of Muslim, Arab and South Asian advocacy groups across the country – like DRUM in New York.

Our own Jeanné Isler, who spent years as a faith-based community organizer and led other interfaith work, will moderate the discussion. A Roman Catholic all her life, she’s also active on the Parish Pastoral Council at St. Augustine Catholic parish here in D.C.

So whether you’re a person of one faith, many faiths, no faith or somewhere in between, join us! For change to happen, it takes faith that a different future is possible and that we can overcome the obstacles to get there, together. RSVP here.

Ben Barge is a field associate at the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP). Follow @NCRP on Twitter.

Like many, I crammed into the movie theater over the holidays to watch The Force Awakens, the latest in the Star Wars franchise. As the soundtrack swelled and “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away . . .” crawled across the screen, I was instantly transported. Being a Jedi was one of my favorite childhood fantasies.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized the most impressive heroes aren’t swinging lightsabers or piloting spaceships, but rather mobilizing volunteers, organizing late night meetings and inspiring folks to make sure their decision-makers speak for them. One of my favorite bloggers, Vu Le who writes Nonprofits with Balls, often calls such nonprofit leaders Jedis because their efforts are nothing short of superhuman: points of light bringing balance to an unjust world.

Philanthropy needs such leaders. Our sector has a long to-do list, from combating inequality to tackling climate change and more. Aiming big is vital because our society faces urgent problems that demand systematic solutions. Yet, too often, something’s missing from these grand plans: we expect these dreams to become reality without investing in the fundamental expertise people need to make change happen.

What is this expertise? In a word: leadership. In more words: grassroots, movement-building, relational leadership. Time and time again, from marriage equality to police accountability and beyond, the biggest breakthroughs in the fight for social justice come from webs of individuals and organizations that add up to politically powerful movements creating pressure for change. We need grassroots leaders to feed these networks by seeing beyond narrow interests and partnering with peers to inspire diverse people to dismantle complex, oppressive systems.

Even Jedis had leadership development, after all: they sat on councils, trained young ones and led revolutions. Without Obi Wan Kenobi’s mentorship, Luke Skywalker would probably still be a moisture farmer on Tatooine.

Yet, our nonprofit Jedis have been given short thrift to develop these skills. A 2014 national survey by the Center for Effective Philanthropy found that 73 percent of nonprofit leaders reported lacking sufficient resources and opportunities to develop their leadership skills. And no wonder. Foundation Center data from 2003-2012 shows that U.S. foundations gave less than 1 percent of both their grants and their grant dollars to leadership development. In fact, NCRP found that overall leadership development funding fell from $270 million in 2007 to $160 million in 2012, despite the fact that total grantmaking is now back where it was in 2007. This dearth is compounded for grassroots leaders working on controversial social justice topics, who have fewer safety nets and are more prone to burnout.

It doesn’t have to be this way. In NCRP’s Cultivating Nonprofit Leadership: A (Missed?) Philanthropic Opportunity report, we found profound stories of grantmakers supporting leadership development that explicitly strengthens people’s capacity to build movements for social justice.

Take the Rockwood Leadership Institute. With an emphasis on self-care and relational, goal-oriented leadership, the institute has trained over 5000 individuals, more than half of whom are people of color. The institute also creates strong alumni networks to great effect. For example, Rockwood alumnus Gustavo Torres played a huge role in helping build alliances between immigrants’ rights allies and LGBTQ advocates across Maryland – resulting in the votes needed to pass marriage equality and in-state tuition for undocumented youth in 2012.

Another example is Pioneers in Justice, Levi Strauss Foundation’s five-year investment in a cohort of social justice leaders in California’s Bay Area. The effort combines capacity building grants, cross-issue projects and a host of networking opportunities to build alliances between participants. Though only three years in, the investment has already helped the participating nonprofits nurture new leadership, improve operations and diversify their memberships.

Four lessons emerge from these case studies. To be successful, funders should:

  • Integrate leadership development as a natural, strategic part of their issue areas, rather than treat it as a nice-to-have “extra.”
  • Focus on building the capacity of the people who are most affected by the problems they hope to solve, partnering with grantees to develop a shared definition of leadership using a culturally inclusive lens.
  • Connect leaders across different movements, allowing them to see the interconnectedness of their work.
  • Sustain alumni networks over time.

So if you’re a funder that wants to see big change, help your nonprofit Padawans grow into the social justice Jedis they were destined to be. Systemic forms of oppression like structural racism, sexism, poverty, homophobia and the like are complex, and they evolve with the times (unlike Star Wars villains, who pretty much always just build a bigger Death Star).

Supporting leaders who are fighting for a better future doesn’t require knowledge of an invisible, magical super-energy. We can plan for these leaders by investing in their potential. And we should.

Ben Barge is a field associate at the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP). Follow @NCRP on Twitter.

CC image by DancingPhilosopher.

 

Since 1970, the jail population in rural counties has expanded sevenfold – twice as fast as urban counties – but few philanthropic dollars go toward rural leaders tackling criminal justice reform. Last month, NCRP hosted “Mass Incarceration: The Rural Perspective” to discuss this urgent issue. Our panelists made powerful arguments for the deep potential that awaits if grantmakers confront their misconceptions and invest in the diverse leadership already hard at work in rural America.

NCRP Senior Director of Research and Policy Niki Jagpal moderated the discussion, which featured:

Our first panelist was Lenny Foster, who advocates for the rights of more than 2000 Native American inmates in 96 state and federal prisons, many in rural areas. He shared how Native Americans, disproportionately represented in U.S. jails and prisons, face constant discrimination once incarcerated. Prison officials routinely deny Native prisoners access to traditional cultural rites, which is in violation of First Amendment freedom of worship protections and active international treaties. Lenny and his allies at the Native American Rights Fund employ litigation, legislation and negotiation strategies to protect prisoners’ dignity and sovereignty. Lenny has seen both great success and setbacks in his decades of advocacy; stronger support from funders would help ensure that progress continues.

Next, Nick Szuberla, an award-winning producer and organizer, made the important point that those most affected by the prison system should be the ones in charge of changing it. Nick’s projects have ranged from radio shows connecting prisoners to the outside world to national campaigns on sentencing reform. He noted that low-income rural communities and urban communities of color are often pitted against each other because both lack political power. Sourcing prisoners from far-away cities has become an economic development strategy in many rural areas – but most rural people want a different future. Through storytelling campaigns and in-person gatherings, Nick sees opportunities for urban and rural communities to confront mass incarceration together. Such partnerships are deeply strategic because they are bipartisan, rooted in real people’s experiences and capable of creating a political block that outlasts precarious coalitions of D.C. power-players alone.

Rev. Kenneth Glasgow stressed the need for funders to better understand the rural South. A longtime advocate on felon voting rights, humane treatment of inmates and anti-police brutality, Kenneth directly confronted the popular myth that political conservatism makes it so “nothing can get done in the South.” He pointed out that, thanks to grassroots coalitions of rural Southern communities, over a dozen criminal justice reform laws have been passed in the South in recent years, and hundreds of thousands of formerly incarcerated people can now vote. This progress happened despite enormous opposition because of deep commitment by local advocates and immensely strong relationships that have been built over time. Sadly, these achievements rarely get covered by major news outlets or set the agenda at major funder conferences, and there’s still much work left to be done.

Our final speaker, asha bandele, echoed Rev. Glasgow’s call for funders and large nonprofits to ensure that resources flow toward grassroots leaders. As the manager for special grants at the Drug Policy Alliance, asha passes on dollars from DPA’s general operating funds directly to advocates like Rev. Glasgow and partners with them as they embark on their campaigns. She chastised funders for expecting people in oppressive situations to conform to their standards, rather than actually doing the hard work of making themselves uncomfortable and creating accessible spaces for the overburdened people. Too often, funders let language and protocols get in the way of funding rural advocates, instead of taking the time to meet people where they are.

In their discussion together, the four panelists agreed that there’s immense opportunity in the rural United States to change the conversation on mass incarceration. To get there, however, requires a cultural shift in the standard way of doing philanthropic business: funders should educate themselves about the culture of rural places and the ongoing work they’re unaware of, and build partnerships for the long term. In other words, good intentions alone aren’t enough.

Thanks again to all our panelists, and for those who listened in! If you missed it, catch the webinar recording, and the accompanying slides. Make sure to check out our Criminal Justice issue of Responsive Philanthropy, too, which lists case studies and resources for people working to change our justice system. And finally, let us know in the comments: What foundation action do you think it will take to bring about rural justice?

Ben Barge is a field associate at the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP). Follow @NCRP on Twitter.

CC image by Lee Honeycutt.

 

On December 15, NCRP hosted “PIMBY: Philanthropy in My Back Yard.” The webinar explored how the grantmakers that invest in the places we call home can be better partners to folks on the ground and help make our communities a better place to live for everyone – especially those whose priorities and voices have been suppressed or cast aside.

The discussion, moderated by NCRP Project Associate Caitlin Duffy (@DuffyinDC), featured:

For her day job at Detroit LISC, Tahirih works with residents to transform distressed neighborhoods into healthy, economically vibrant communities. Laura and her team at Springboard for the Arts engage artists from all walks of life to strengthen community development in urban and rural Minnesota. And at the Aspen Forum, Sheri works with collaborations across the country to make sure progress happens community-wide, rather than just for a select few.

Caitlin kick-started the conversation by sharing feedback from NCRP’s latest Philamplify reports on the Kresge Foundation and the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation, which rely on anonymous surveys and interviews to deliver honest, unsolicited critiques. In both reports, place-based grantmaking emerged as a significant theme. Kresge, for example, has a strong social justice lens but can do more to embrace nontraditional leaders in Detroit. Knight would do well to rethink its fascination with innovative “shiny bright objects” and explicitly focus on the goals of marginalized populations in its 26 partner communities.

Kresge and Knight are of course not alone in their opportunities for improvement. For place-based funders broadly, both Laura and Tahirih discussed the need for philanthropy to work authentically and patiently with communities on the ground. Tahirih noted that the community needs to define what inclusiveness truly looks like, rather than the funder alone. Involving residents to define their own metrics of success on a neighborhood by neighborhood basis, she argued, works better than a “one size fits all” approach.

https://twitter.com/mnbassguy/status/676828949406605312

Similarly, Laura stressed that the relationships built within a community are a more powerful outcome than a single, tangible “product.” The most successful efforts, she said, will tap into the leadership abilities of local people who aren’t necessarily in traditional organizations, an approach that takes time, curiosity, and creativity.

https://twitter.com/beckyll/status/676831503410528256

Sheri went on to echo Laura and Tahirih’s call for longer-term funder-community investments. Funder goals, she said, should be aligned with the priorities of local under-served communities and consider unintended negative consequences, such as displacement. To be an honest partner, funders have to acknowledge the power they have and put in the work to build trust.

In Q&A with the audience, all three panelists emphasized that dynamics of race and class must be addressed in order to understand the “local change ecosystem.” Doing so isn’t easy—and it’s tempting to reach out to the same shortlist of leaders rather than engaging the community more fully – but putting those conversations off undermines the potential for real progress. Creating opportunities specifically for marginalized communities improves the potential for equity as well.

It was clear from our audience engagement that discussion around this topic represents only one of many that need to happen in the nonprofit and philanthropic sector – so keep these conversations going with your friends and coworkers, and tell us at NCRP how they go!

Thanks once again to our panelists, and to those who listened in. You can catch the webinar recording and slides on our website. And let us know below, by email at bbarge@ncrp.org and on social media: How do you think place-based funding should be done to lead to equity? What do you want to see happening in your backyard?

Ben Barge is a field associate at the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP). Follow @NCRP on Twitter.

It’s that time of year again. No, I’m not talking about fiery fall leaves or pumpkin pies, though I love those. I’m talking about The Chronicle of Philanthropy’s “Philanthropy 400.” For the uninitiated, this list represents the 400 U.S. nonprofits that raised the most (non-governmental) money in fiscal year 2014.

There’s a lot of good work included here. The Task Force for Global Health is in the top ten. Youth programs, cancer research and a score of universities populate the top 50. Dig into the latter hundreds and you’ll find organizations like the Environmental Defense Fund and the ACLU.

Yet here’s a truth givers of all stripes should know: Some of the most important work you can support today has never been on that list. The vital work I’m referring to takes many forms, and many causes, but it always has a few things in common.

It’s grounded in community. It’s unapologetically focused on changing the policies, cultural norms and systems that foster inequity. And it’s led by people who have faced the brunt of that injustice. At NCRP, we call them grassroots social justice advocates and community organizers: folks who are fighting every day, against all odds, for a better world for all of us. Yet despite their crucial work – or rather because of it – the vast majority are un- or underpaid.

To be clear, I’m not advocating for a wholesale rejection of the 400: simply a counterweight. The top 400 groups have increased their share of total annual giving over the last decade to about $1 for every $3.70 donated in America. This isn’t surprising. Large organizations tend to have greater capacity to promote their work, measure the outcomes and assign staff to collect donations. But such abilities are privileges that many organizations working alongside marginalized communities and tackling difficult topics simply don’t have.

So without further ado, here are seven ways givers can support grassroots efforts all across the country tackling the most entrenched injustices in our society. Many of these tips come from recommendations Black Lives Matter activists shared in a NCRP webinar earlier this year.

  • Support the leadership of people most affected by the issues they’re trying to solve. Though it’s vastly underfunded, the most cutting edge work today is being done by intersectional movements of people standing up to oppression. That includes people of color, women, LGBTQ individuals, undocumented persons, low-income individuals, people with disabilities and the formerly incarcerated.
  • Recognize that these efforts may look different than standard ways of doing things in the nonprofit sector – and that’s okay! Traditional nonprofit spaces can be inaccessible or downright alienating for people who have been disenfranchised. The Movement for Black Lives, for example, has no annual fundraising galas, rigid hierarchy or even a physical office space, but has fundamentally transformed our national conversation around race, justice and policing.
  • Remember that civic engagement is the bedrock of effective social change. From community organizing and policy advocacy to litigation and leadership development, it focuses on changing the systems of power that lock people out of opportunity, rather than chipping away at their byproducts. This work is 100 percent legal for nonprofits, as the Alliance for Justice’s Philanthropy Advocacy Playbook It’s also messy and courageous. Listen, and be willing to support new and untested ideas.
  • Give multi-year funding and general operating support. (Yes, that means overhead.) Such funds give leaders the stability and flexibility they need to act nimbly and strategically. Disappointingly, however, only 22 percent of the donors The Chronicle of Philanthropy surveyed prefer to support long-term goals. In fact, according to NCRP’s analysis of Foundation Center data through our “The Philanthropic Landscape” series, only 21 percent of all grant dollars in 2012 went to general operating support, and just 13 percent to multi-year funding.
  • Don’t get obsessed with number crunching. It’s notoriously difficult to quantify the value of advocacy, even though it’s the most effective long-term work you can engage in. When NCRP did measure, we found that the return on investment for advocacy and civic engagement was a whopping $115 for every $1 invested. Many groups allied with marginalized communities, however, aren’t going to have the capacity to show those numbers, and privileging the ones that can perpetuates a vicious cycle that keeps those communities under-resourced.
  • If you have an application process, keep it simple. Does the organization applying have to fill out 10 questions, five forms, three budgets and speak English fluently to have a chance to access the funds? If so, rethink the process.
  • Last but not least, remember that support can be more than financial. You can help make a difference by speaking out for equity, educating your peers and holding people accountable within the institutions and relationships you are a part of. For examples, check out the nearly 200 funders that have made that commitment explicit by signing on to Philanthropy’s Promise.

What do you think? How else can donors, grantmakers, and giving circles best support grassroots social change efforts? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Ben Barge is a field associate at the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP). Follow @NCRP on Twitter.

CC image by Chris Blakeley.

The stage is packed up, the nametags put away, and the cameras back in their casings. The real work, however, is just beginning.

Last week, NCRP hosted its first Philamplify Debate to explore whether market-based approaches can lead to equity and empowerment in education. This question is fundamental to understanding the state of education in the United States today, as I argued in a post before the debate.

The question also covers a lot of ground, so here’s what we mean by those terms:

  • Market-based reform: Approaches that use public funding to create alternatives to traditional public schools, with tools like charter schools, school vouchers and educational management organizations.
  • Education equity: Ensuring that every child, regardless of identity or background, has equal opportunity to fulfill their educational potential, and that all children receive a sound basic education at minimum.
  • Empowerment: A process that fosters in people the capacity to effectively influence issues that they define as important, in their own lives, their communities, and in their society.

With more and more philanthropic dollars devoted towards charters, vouchers and other such choice-oriented reforms, understanding what strategies lead to fair, vibrant outcomes for the most marginalized is crucial for our communities’ future.

In the debate, the Chicago Teachers Union’s Brandon Johnson defended traditional public schools, and the Thomas B. Fordham Institute’s Robert Pondiscio made the case for publicly funded charters, moderated by the Winthrop Rockefeller Foundation’s Sherece West-Scantlebury. Our panelists, the Edward W. Hazen Foundation’s Lori Bezahler, the New Schools Venture Fund’s Deborah McGriff and the Texas Education Grantmakers Advocacy Consortium’s Jennifer Esterline, weighed in on the remarks with their own perspectives.

Our in-person audience and online viewers joined the conversation, too. Tweets ran the gamut, including:

https://twitter.com/audreyhkim/status/648946993591554048

The dialogue was respectful, but passionate. Those in the philanthropic sector rarely debate each other face to face, especially when we hold powerfully differing views. When we do, it’s even easier to fall prey to cognitive dissonance and ignore evidence that falls outside our worldview, as my colleague wrote before the event. NCRP wants to commend all our participants for taking on this challenge.

The conversation, however, is far from over. At NCRP, we’re committed to asking challenging questions of philanthropy, especially when the answers can lead to long-term change. The public deserves no less.

Watch the debate recording, and take a moment to tell us your thoughts: What are you taking away from the program? Should NCRP host more Philamplify Debates? We want to hear from you.

And stay tuned! New Philamplify assessments will be released later this fall.

Ben Barge is a Field Associate at the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP). Follow @NCRP on Twitter and join the #PhilamplifyDebate conversation!

You’ve probably noticed that education has been in the news a lot lately.

  • Ten years after Hurricane Katrina and the switch to charters and new teacher pipelines, education advocates are weighing test score improvements against persisting inequities in New Orleans
  • Parents in Chicago have gone on hunger strike for nearly a month to protest the closing of Dyett High, a predominantly Black traditional public school on the South Side.
  • The District of Columbia is launching an all-boys college preparatory school to improve educational outcomes for Black and Latino boys, inspired by a Chicago charter school network.
  • Meanwhile, Washington State’s Supreme Court has ruled that charter schools are unconstitutional.

Clearly we haven’t yet reached a national consensus on the best way to ensure every kid in this country has the opportunity to thrive. But what does philanthropy have to do with the ongoing debate over education? As it turns out, a whole lot.

From 2000 to 2010, the top U.S. grantmakers in education nearly doubled their giving, going from $486.6 million to $843.7 million. The vast majority of these new funds have gone toward charter school development, teacher training and recruitment, education venture capital and other reform efforts. D.C. alone attracted $31 million ($705 per student) in 2010, a larger investment than in any other school district nationally.

Philanthropic interest in education is nothing new, of course. In the early 20th century, for example, Sears Roebuck president Julius Rosenwald donated money to build over 5,000 schools in partnership with rural communities of color in the segregated South. However, it’s clear that the last 15 years have seen a tidal shift in the way philanthropy today approaches educational giving.

Many of these new education efforts share a common thread of what might be called “market-based” strategies: approaches that use public funding to create alternatives to traditional public schools, with tools like charter schools, school vouchers and educational management organizations.

Critics say these reforms endanger public education by sapping resources where they’re needed most and undermining public oversight. Proponents insist that expanding public education choices is the best way to meet student needs and compel flagging schools to improve.

At NCRP, we recognize that there’s a vicious cycle of inequity when it comes to educational access and opportunity, and our research shows that philanthropy has an important role to play in breaking that cycle by focusing on marginalized groups and investing in organizing, advocacy and civic engagement.

So what’s the best approach when it comes to creating fair, inclusive, desirable outcomes for all our kids at school? Are market-based approaches an important part of the solution, or do they cause more harm than good?

NCRP invites you to explore this important question with us. On September 29th, we’ll be hosting our first Philamplify debate, asking, “Can market-oriented reform strategies advance equity and empowerment in education?” Brandon Johnson from the Chicago Teachers Union and Robert Pondiscio from the Thomas B. Fordham Institute will debate the question, moderated by NCRP Board Chair and Winthrop-Rockefeller Foundation President Sherece West-Scantlebury. The program will also include robust discussion from a panel of philanthropic leaders in the education sector: Lori Bezahler, President of the Edward W. Hazen Foundation, Deborah McGriff, Managing Director at NewSchools Venture Fund, and Jennifer Esterline, Project Consultant for the Texas Education Grantmakers Advocacy Consortium.

The event will be held at the Pew Charitable Trusts in Washington, D.C., and broadcasted live online from 3-4:30 PM. A complimentary reception with beer and wine will follow immediately. Don’t miss it! Register for FREE here and join the conversation in person or online today.

Ben Barge is a field associate at the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP). Follow @NCRP on Twitter and join the #PhilamplifyDebate conversation!