It’s been a hard couple of weeks. First came the leaked U.S. Supreme Court draft opinion that would overturn Roe v. Wade. Then came the racist murders of 10 Black people at a Buffalo grocery store. We are witnessing the terrifying results of a white supremacist, patriarchal worldview and a well-funded strategy to dismantle our country’s nascent experiment in multiracial democracy.
During this frightening time, philanthropy cannot abdicate its responsibility to the communities so many grant makers place at the heart of their missions. As the nation’s racial reckoning took hold two years ago, Ash-Lee Henderson, co-executive director of the grassroots organizing nonprofit Highlander Center, put it this way: “Fund us like you want us to win.”
Now is the time to double down on that sentiment. Grant makers and philanthropists need to fund from a place of abundance, with a focus on building power from the ground up, and for the long haul. That may sound like a message you’ve heard before. But it bears repeating — over and over again.
Here’s why: Ten Black people were murdered in Buffalo, N.Y., by a young white supremacist who wrote in an online screed that he believed in the “great replacement theory” — a century-old engine of racist terror that has recently moved from fringe conspiracy to the Republican mainstream.
For philanthropists who hesitate to put more funds into grassroots organizing, consider this startling data point: One in three Americans now believe the twisted premise that a Jewish-led effort is underway to replace white people with immigrants and people of color. Importantly, where abortion rights are concerned, it also relies on the subjugation of all women and emphasizes the reproductive role of white women to give birth.
This worldview was embraced by the perpetrators of the 2019 mass shooting at an El Paso, Tex., Walmart, the 2018 mass shooting at a Pittsburgh synagogue, and the 2017 violent rally in Charlottesville, Va. The ascendancy of this dangerous idea is yet another symptom of the emboldened white supremacy that we are up against every day and that is fueled by far-right philanthropy and conservative donors. It is a message promoted daily on mainstream cable television’s highest rated programs.
Similar themes underlie the Supreme Court’s leaked draft decision on Roe v. Wade. The opinion overturning the law was not a surprise, but the total erasure of women and pregnant people’s bodily autonomy and ability to choose the course of their lives is nonetheless shocking.
The draft-decision language makes it clear that overturning Roe is one more step toward a decades-long goal of reversing the expansion of rights won in the 20th century. This civil-rights rollback starts with abortion and threatens anyone whose rights are not, as Justice Samuel Alito cited in his draft opinion, “deeply rooted in the Nation’s history and traditions.” In other words, anyone who is not a straight, white, land-owning male. This is a fight about power over our very lives — especially the lives and bodies of Black, brown, and poor women who will be disproportionately harmed if Roe is overturned.
The attacks of the last few weeks are the results of the same multidecade strategy to undo our rights and freedoms. They are linked to the attacks on voting rights, former President Donald Trump’s Big Lie that undermines our elections, and the discriminatory treatment of immigrant families.
So, how should philanthropy respond? Now is not the time for navel gazing — for compiling new reports or getting distracted by limited short-term wins.
We need the power to win big. As our colleagues from Borealis Philanthropy wrote last week in these pages, building that power will require the same commitment of resources we’ve seen our opponents wield so effectively. We need sustained and bold philanthropic investments that embrace the following:
An abundance mind-set. Foundations and donor-advised-fund holders should not force allies in grassroots movements to compete over what should be abundant philanthropic dollars. The pool of resources available for social-justice work could expand significantly through practical structural changes, such as raising the federal 5 percent minimum rate for distributing foundation funds and closing loopholes that keep DAF and foundation dollars out of circulation. These resources should flow to organizations led by those whose lives stand to be most affected by a diminishment in civil rights, particularly Black-led groups.
A commitment to build power from the ground up. Republicans have consolidated the power to govern as a minority. They have gained that power at the local and state levels by serving the interests of a small group of wealthy white individuals and wielding every tool at their disposal to block the progressive federal agenda. This includes a diligent focus on the institutions that shape our civic lives and that multiply or constrain power, such as the federal court system and local school boards.
How do we fight back? We need to expand our base by continuing to invest in the leadership of people who bear the brunt of racist, sexist, and anti-poor policies. This is the heart of community organizing: building a pool of engaged, educated, and motivated constituents who wield power to set agendas and exercise influence over governance — especially the rules and policies that directly affect their lives.
This is the kind of activity that for the first time in 40 years brought a grocery store to Buffalo’s East Side — the Tops market that was the scene of the mass murder. People power like this can change the worldviews, norms, and belief systems that underlie the national narrative, and it can change the daily reality of those who live in these communities. Developing it involves the slow work of creating community: one-on-one conversations, relationship-building, and political education, which over time brings more people into leadership positions.
Each electoral cycle and legislative session should be viewed as opportunities to ratchet up power. Too often, we lose focus after the oft-touted “most important election in our lifetimes” comes and goes once again. Elections are organizing opportunities to build an active citizenry that stays engaged year-round on issues they care about. Sustaining these connections through electoral organizing is critical to maintaining the involvement of new and infrequent voters — particularly Black and Latinos — whose participation determines elections.
Taking the long view. Throughout the history of the United States, white supremacists have fought to uphold the racist, capitalist, and patriarchal roots of the nation’s founding. The planning and resources devoted to the fight against authoritarianism, plutocracy, and white supremacy must reflect that same sense of the long game — the same sustained commitment to achieving a true multiracial democracy as our opponents have shown to obliterating it.
These long-term philanthropic resources should be at a scale proportional to the threats we face, with the recognition that achieving economic, racial, and gender justice will take our lifetimes and longer. In other words, this requires continuing dedicated funding that goes far beyond typical grant cycles.
As co-presidents of Community Change, which has built the power of low-income people of color since its founding in 1968, we work with grassroots groups in more than 40 states and national allies across the progressive movement. These groups are already stretched thin. They need significant, reliable, long-term funding that allows them to build a base of engaged, educated, and motivated constituents who are willing to keep fighting battles that — as the last few weeks have shown us — grow more challenging every day.
But if we work together and stay focused on our vision of a country where everyone can thrive, we will win. We are inspired by James Baldwin’s words: “Not everything is lost. Responsibility cannot be lost; it can only be abdicated. If one refuses abdication, one begins again.”
