Philanthropy is in the midst of a moment of contemplation and reflection. Many donors and foundation officials recognize that the beliefs, structures, and practices they’ve held are no longer serving their missions, especially if they don’t put people of color and others who have been marginalized at the center of their missions.
Of all the written opinions about what philanthropy should do going forward, none has landed as clear and heartfelt as Edgar Villanueva’s call for donors to tackle the colonized economic history of America. In his just-released book, Decolonizing Wealth, Villanueva applies what he has learned as a top official of the Schott Foundation and a member of the Lumbee Tribe in North Carolina to cast a vision for the steps philanthropy must take to fulfill its definition as the love of humanity.
Villanueva reminds his readers that this colonized history of America and its people started in the early days of this country. Slavery, the theft of land from Native Americans, and other forms of subjugation set the stage for today’s concentration of wealth in the hands of the few.
Villanueva uses his personal experience working in philanthropy to give voice to people of color and others who work under the traumatic and oppressive dynamics connected to concentrated wealth that, as he notes, was built on the backs of their ancestors. In a rare moment not often seen in the traditional decorum of philanthropy, he explains what’s really going on behind the curtain.
Villanueva calls for an intervention. The way to promote real change, he says, is to reimagine the role of money so it is no longer an extractive, greedy force but one that heals and repairs past damages. He relies on that knowledge to lay out seven steps for healing philanthropy and our economic system that, he says, everyone, no matter their background, can adopt in their work — grieve, apologize, listen, relate, represent, invest, and repair. He argues that doing so is not only the moral thing to do, but it is also strategic. If the philanthropic efforts of donors are to be successful, then money needs to be invested in those most affected by the problem they seek to solve. Democratizing grant decisions, lining up all philanthropic assets to advance a mission, and treating foundation staff with dignity are necessary steps to decolonizing wealth.
Villanueva’s voice comes as part of an evolving group of philanthropic leaders who are taking new and bold steps in pushing their missions forward. Alison Corwin of the Surdna Foundation published an essay in the Stanford Social Innovation Review this month calling on philanthropic leaders to embrace the wisdom of people on the ground who are activating their communities for change. Corwin, Villanueva, Rodney Foxworth of Balle, Farhad Ebrahimi of the Chorus Foundation, Vanessa Daniel of the Groundswell Fund, and many others are lifting up the same message — move fast, with love, to invest in the front line. With this mounting choir and Villanueva’s new book, it’s high time for philanthropic leaders to listen closely as they consider their own future.
Tyler Nickerson, a regular contributor to the Chronicle of Philanthropy, recently sat down with Villanueva to talk about his new book. Following are excerpts and video clips from that conversation.
Q: You wrote this book focused on the legacy and analysis of colonization going back to the early days of this country and then related it to our current economy. How are philanthropy and finance exploited and disconnected? And who hurts the worst in the current scenario?
A: This country has a history of colonization. For many, many years, colonizers went around the world accumulating wealth by any means necessary. And often in the name of a God-given right to do so. The legacy of colonization resulted in genocide, stolen land, slavery.
All of those traditions in our American history have resulted in what I call the colonizing virus. And if you think of our country as a body and having DNA, that colonizing virus is a part of the fabric of who we are as a country that was established by colonizers. The virus shows up in policies, practices, the education system, and especially in the realms of wealth. For philanthropy, wealth was amassed in ways that traumatized communities, especially communities of color. That colonizing virus shows up in our work today.
Three questions that I put out there to consider that really demonstrate how the colonizing virus shows up in philanthropy: (1) Who’s making decisions around who gets the resources? (2) Where’s that money going? (3) Who is actually the end beneficiary of those resources?
Q: You propose in the book that money can be medicine. For folks in philanthropy and in finance, how should we approach our work differently so that money can be a form of medicine?
A: There’s this connotation around money that it’s a negative thing and evil. Some folks misquote the scripture in the Bible saying that money is the root of all evil. Actually, it says the love of money is the root of all evil. In the book, I propose that money is actually a neutral thing. We created money. We gave it power and value. Money itself is not a bad thing. It’s the motives and the intentions behind how money is deployed that are wrong. When you look back at our history in terms of how money and wealth has been accumulated — in the name of conquering, dividing, exploiting, separating — we find ourselves in a lot of trauma and pain and inequality because of how wealth and money have been moved through our systems.
So I propose that we can actually flip that dynamic. In the indigenous tradition, medicine is really something that gives you balance and provides connection. Having this conversation with you right now feels like medicine because I am having a good time talking to you.
That type of spiritual connection can be applied to money if we are using it in a way that is actually bringing about connectedness, balance, reciprocity, and relationship. As funders, we can think about deploying money in a way that is helping to facilitate coming together versus dividing and conquering.
Q: In the book, you give seven steps to deploying money as medicine. But I noticed that the first few steps focused on the individual — to grieve and heal and apologize. Why do you start there? And who models that behavior for you?
A: Organizations are made up of people, and any type of change that’s going to happen in an organization or society has to begin with us first. The steps in the book are steps that individuals can take to begin to understand their orientation to money and wealth in order to begin a healing process.
There are steps that the philanthropic sector can take. For example, the first step in the book is to grieve. As a field, we can actually stop and acknowledge the source of this wealth and the pain that acquiring this wealth has caused. We can look at our data and see that only about 7 percent of philanthropic money is being invested in communities of color when we’re sitting on $850 billion of wealth. That’s really sad. That makes me personally sad and grieve. If we don’t feel bad about that, we’re not going to change anything. So we have to first acknowledge how we’re wrong in order to get to a place where an apology is possible.
Q: In the final half of those seven steps, you focus on the practices of moving money. You lift up compelling stories of foundations leading the way to invest across their entire set of assets with their mission at the forefront. So what do you say to the CEOs, the CFOs, and financiers who say it is too hard or the returns aren’t there?
A: Doing the right thing is never the easy choice. We have to ask ourselves What is the net good that we’re trying to accomplish? If we have the mind-set that the mission is about acquiring more wealth and building our coffers, then I feel like it is actually like a fraud. Then our mission is a fraud. With that type of mentality, I ask about how this money was stolen through our history and how it escaped being taxed. If we’re just sitting on that money and thinking about how to grow that corpus, I really question why someone would even be in a field that is defined by the love of mankind or the love of humanity.
Still, I feel that the future of philanthropy is hopeful. We’re living in a time right now where we’re very polarized in this country, especially around issues of race and income inequality. Philanthropy has a very real role to play in bridging that divide. I feel really excited about conversations that I’m having with high-net-worth individuals, as well as foundations that I think are leading the charge. We’re having real conversations about race in this sector that I never imagined even five years ago that we would be having. That’s a start.
I think by holding up that mirror and really taking that long, deep gaze into ourselves and into our organizations, we’re going to be better off in the long run. I think we should really jump into a place of discomfort in the beginning, knowing that healing and moving through the steps that I outline in the book will bring us to a much better place in the future.
Q: Speaking of deep gazes, you certainly take a deep gaze in this book at your own history. You bring forward a lot of the wisdom and insights from your community and the Lumbee tribe. How do you hope people will relate to you in this book? And what do you hope the impact will be?
A: You’re right, I do share some personal experiences in the field — even remembering some of that was re-traumatizing in some way. I also talked to a lot of people who have worked in philanthropy — women, people of color — and wove their stories into the backbone of this book. What I hope is that it would inspire us to be bolder. To speak truth of power. To not be afraid. I hope people say change is possible when people are beginning to bring even more real conversations to light.
Q: How has the book changed you? How has going through this experience of writing it changed who you are and how you see your own work?
A: This book changed me in many ways. I had the opportunity to do a deep exploration of myself and what I believed. After working in philanthropy for 14 years, moving millions of dollars, and fitting into the forced assimilation to the cultures of the organizations that I worked in — it was a luxury to be able to pull back from that and really explore. What do I really believe? And what have my culture and my community taught me about philanthropy, taking care of one another, and reciprocity? I can stand firmly in that knowledge. I know what has carried me through all these years and what I stand on in the years to come.
This interview was edited for brevity and clarity.
Tyler Nickerson is a regular contributor to the Chronicle of Philanthropy and is first vice president at Amalgamated Bank. Previously he served as the founding director of investments and state strategy at the Solutions Project and program manager at the Dyer-Ives Foundation. You can find him on Twitter at @tylerwnickerson.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Amalgamated Bank.
Watch the full video.
