I am tired. First, there was the unfathomable health and economic catastrophe caused by Covid-19. And now there is this.
Ahmaud Arbery, shot and killed as he jogged in his neighborhood. Breonna Taylor, killed by police while she lay in bed in her home. Christian Cooper, an avid birder, threatened with the police and treated as a mortal threat by a white woman in Central Park. And George Floyd, killed by a Minneapolis police officer who suffocated him with a knee to his neck as the world watched.
I am tired of feeling anger, frustration, and constant disappointment. I am angry that violence is used so often and with such impunity against African Americans in this country. I am frustrated that too many white people still do not realize that they must be part of the solution to structural racism. The oppressed cannot fight this alone. And I am disappointed that so many people in philanthropy still quietly voice support for racial equity and justice but do not publicly advocate for fair and just treatment for African Americans and other people of color.
Despite the vivid images of violence and injustice, my white colleagues in philanthropy have largely reacted conventionally. I hear “I want to be your ally, but I don’t know how to help” and “I don’t feel comfortable speaking up. I’m not an expert. You (person of color) are the expert.” I am constantly asked “How are you doing? Are you all right?” It feels like an endless request to share pain without a mutual exchange that uncovers feelings of shame, guilt, and denial felt by white people. The unconscious expectation is that black people should comfort white people. These reactions allow my white colleagues to absolve themselves of racism instead of acknowledging their whiteness and their role in upholding structural racism.
Philanthropy needs to do a better job of defining what racial justice means to us — and together come up with strategies to achieve racial equity. Here’s what I propose:
Get educated. We all need to get grounded in the roots of structural racism and anti-blackness; the laws that uphold power for whites and deny it for others; the systems that enforce those laws, and how individuals maintain those systems. Organizations such as ABFE: A Philanthropic Partnership for Black Communities, Philanthropic Initiative for Racial Equity, and Race Forward offer trainings to increase understanding about structural racism.
Change policies and practices. Foundations need to hire and retain program and executive leaders who have experienced racism, inequity, and injustice in their own lives. Board diversification needs to be accelerated, and racial, ethnic, and economic diversity needs to be a top priority. The sector needs to increase and sustain funding of organizations led by people of color; and it needs to evaluate and report on where funds are allocated and whether and how those funds support racial equity. Lastly, foundations need to manage investments with the mission of racial equity in mind. That means using investment-consulting firms led or staffed by people of color and adding mission-related investments to portfolios. These firms are more likely to identify opportunities and invest capital in African American communities. These recommendations are not new, but they are often more quickly adopted when foundations are led by people of color.
Be an advocate. Thank you for all the statements explaining how you want to be an ally to black people. Now, let’s be accountable to the rhetoric by using our government influence to advocate for public investments sought by those who face injustice and systemic racism every day. Let’s organize philanthropic colleagues to take action. In this moment, white colleagues need to name anti-black racism and put that in the center of all the actions and resources of their institutions on fighting that racism for as long as it takes.
Last January, I had the opportunity to visit with staff of the Deaconess Foundation in St. Louis. Its grant making serves a metropolitan region in which African Americans make up the largest nonwhite demographic group. I learned of the organization’s deep commitment to racial equity. After much research and analysis, Deaconess has committed to an explicit focus on African American children and the black-led organizations that serve them. And it has made public its board’s governance commitment to and strategy for advancing racial equity. Deaconess’s strategy is one that seeks to shift power to African American communities and publicly advocate for justice. I left inspired.
My foundation is starting its own journey. We are visiting and learning from communities across Illinois to better understand how equity and race is defined by and affects the state’s residents. We have put together a more diverse board and staff that has directly experienced racism and injustice. And we are developing a strategy that will incorporate the recommendations discussed in this piece. It is my hope that we will be part of a sustained movement in philanthropy that does not relegate racial equity to a catchphrase, but amplifies the voices and ideas of leaders of color and challenges white leaders to explicitly practice racial equity, share power and privilege, and demand justice.