Nonprofit and foundation leaders are speaking out against the death of George Floyd in police custody last week and the country’s long history of racial violence and discrimination. The following are excerpts from some of their statements.

Statement on the Continuous Killing of Black people, White Supremacy, and Anti-Blackness

Amanda Misiko Andere
CEO, Funders Together to End Homelessness (New York)

During the global pandemic, my colleague Tabitha, has been reminding us to breathe. She and my other team members often begin and end every Zoom meeting asking us and our members to take deep breaths and remember to breathe throughout the week. Since watching the public lynching of Ahmaud Arbery, it has been harder to breathe. When Breonna Taylor was ambushed in her home by police and killed, my breathing became heavy in despair. And then watching another public lynching in the death of George Floyd, it became impossible to breathe. We, Black people, lost our breath with George as he cried out that he could not breathe.

I honestly don’t have any words to say that give justice to the pain of racism and oppression. The knee on our collective neck is the structural racism that is persistent and pervasive in every aspect of our lives. We are afraid to run, drive, sit in our homes and eat ice cream, or watch birds.

We also know that racism is taking every opportunity from us to feel like we can breathe without oppression in our housing, education, health, and criminal legal system. The public lynching of Black men takes our breath away and the constant structural racism is killing us slowly, leaving us gasping for air as we call out for real change through anti-racist polices.

And what makes it hard to catch a breath is we know the system is not broken. It was designed by white supremacist slave-owners on stolen Indigenous land to protect their interest. It is working just as it was designed.

No matter how many Black men, women, transgender men, transgender women, non-binary people, and young children are killed in front of our eyes, the cycle of attention and inattention continues. We were called to a new sense of urgency when Trayvon Martin was killed without justice, and some of us started to say with our words and actions that Black Lives Matter. From Eric Garner who first reminded us “We Can’t Breathe” to Tamir Rice, Sandra Bland, the election of 2016, Charlottesville, and so many names that fill up a whole page, the urgency only continues to grow. But why does it take someone being killed on camera for us to wake up, when Black people have been grasping for air telling you they are in pain because the oppression and inequities of our systems are too much to bear any longer?

What does it say about America when books we’ve been begging people to read about racial justice and anti-racist policies only sell out when White America is forced to watch two public lynchings in less than a month? The question we have to ask ourselves is why do we say violence is not the answer whenever there is an uprising, yet violence against Black people is the only thing that causes us to wake up and act?

I balked at the thought of even writing a statement. Aren’t we all tired of that cycle as well? Another Black person is murdered, people write statements and articles calling for change, and then the world’s short memory kicks in as it attempts to go “back to normal” and uphold its oppressive systems all while claiming that this time is different.

Given Funders Together’s commitment to racial equity, a statement condemning the deaths of Black people at the hand of government-sanctioned racism should come as no surprise, and in fact, should be expected. I am a Black woman CEO leading an organization that has a board that is a majority people of color and a diverse staff. We last week started another racial equity webinar series on anti-Black racism. We work to identify and dismantle white supremacy culture that prevents us from making progress in our pursuit of racial justice. So our voice is important and needed.

But during several moments this weekend where I could barely breathe at the pain of knowing we were here once again, I cried out to my white friends and colleagues to say something. Their silence was painful. It was not enough for them to be doing the work of racial equity behind the scenes. As imperfect and problematic as their words might be, I needed them to speak out: to speak out to other white people, to honor that the work of being anti-racist is to sit and listen without defense or fragility to people of color with lived expertise, to study and understand the racialized history of our country. Then when the time is right, to consistently and persistently speak and act loudly and boldly and be more than ally, but a co-conspirator for our shared liberation.

Several leaders stepped up. While we need to center the voices of Black people, we also must recognize it is not our job to fix the problem alone.

I ask you to take the time this week to reckon with how philanthropy’s action or inaction has perpetuated and enabled structural racism. Then use your voice and take anti-racist action daily, not just when there is another Black person killed for all of the world to see.

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Kimberly Perry
Executive Director
DC Action for Children

Silence Is Consent

When watching the video of George Floyd’s murder, I heard him call for his mother. My heart sank and broke into pieces. And then the rage ensued, again. Four hundred years of injustice kind of rage.

Since 14-year-old Emmett Louis Till was murdered by brutal, public lynching in 1955, thousands of Black boys and men, and Black girls and women have also been murdered at the hands of white racists— and systemic racism. Each of their Black lives mattered. They were loved. Loved by their families, friends and communities.

While much in the world has changed since 1955, the blatant disregard for Black lives has not. The difference is that today it is increasingly captured on film. Our children and young people are watching. The whole world is watching, and this weekend’s protests are another sign that people are tired of waiting for justice, as anger and frustration at a broken system boils over.

Many white parents avoid talking about race, particularly with their kids. They might believe that leading by example, with kindness and compassion, is enough. It is not enough. Children and young people deserve to unpack and understand their privilege in society. On the other hand, parents of color are forced to have the conversation with their children, over and over and over. Conversations about racism are vital for all families.

Without conversation, our kids see silence and are themselves ill equipped to confront racism. And silence is consent.

As the scholar Ibram X. Kendi reminds us, “the opposite of ‘racist’ isn’t ‘not racist.’ It is ‘antiracist.’” Racism attacks every facet of our society, creating horrific disparities in education, health, criminal justice and our economy. We need to talk explicitly about racism as the through-line in these inequalities, and we need that talk to lead to anti-racist action.

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Marcus Walton
CEO
Grantmakers for Effective Organizations

Hope Is Not a Strategy for Change

For many of us, the past weeks have seemed surreal, enraging, exhausting. In addition to addressing myriad COVID-19 related challenges (disproportionately impacting communities of color), we have endured the latest in a series of sensational examples of overt racism directed at Black people: in New York, occurring at the hands of an individual symbolizing the worst aspects of unchecked privilege, in Minnesota, by way of an egregious system of unchecked state violence, in Georgia, in Kentucky, in Florida …and we know there are so many other examples that haven’t made national news. These experiences remind me that we heal ourselves whenever we create out of rage. To this end, rather than withdrawing into isolation to grapple with uncertainty or fear, I invite you to summon the courage to be fully present in supportive community with others to re-imagine a new generative response to our collective outrage.

Despite my own personal feelings about these events, including the ensuing protests sparked around the world, it also hurts me acutely as the leader of an organization to witness peers and colleagues, including the brilliant, passionate staff of GEO, experience pain, fear and feelings of helplessness. To this day, no singular action seems sufficient enough to counter the effects of such egregious acts of violence. No encouragement for self and community care seems enough to convey fully my desire for everyone to experience physical and emotional safety. I want each individual to take care, find an empowering outlet for self-expression, reach emotional acceptance of conditions as they change and derive meaning from each experience, no matter how tragic. I choose to be present with GEO’s community of stakeholders as an example for what it looks like in practice to persevere through pain and ambiguity together.

As a Black man who has amassed his fair share of experiences with injustice, firsthand, I am simultaneously encouraged by the broad demonstrations of outrage, while being equally conscientious of the familiarity of this moment. Indeed, many of us may feel that we have experienced this phenomenon before — and, the “ending” is usually predictably unsatisfying.

It is also unsettling for me to experience so many people of diverse backgrounds “discovering” outrage as each new racial atrocity befalls another defenseless Black person when we have seen and heard this play out so many times throughout history, as chronicled for hundreds of years within accounts from the trans-Atlantic slave trade, the Civil War era and the Jim Crow South; throughout the American civil rights eras of the 1920s-60s; and into more contemporary eras characterized by the first opioid epidemic (i.e., crack cocaine) in the 1980s–90s as well as the most recent rash of murders of Black civilians by police officers in the 2010s, which include Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Sandra Bland and many more. Reserving our outrage for the most sensational examples highlighted in the media is dehumanizing and does not honor so many other human lives lost.

As much as we hope to be better, hope alone has never proven a sufficient strategy for change any more than outrage over racial atrocities has effectively prevented future atrocities. Instead, adopting a generational commitment to advancing racial equity through collective action may engender real hope for many populations. For responsive philanthropic strategy, this must involve:

• Framing the issue: Acknowledge and illuminate how institutional barriers to progress are real and persist today;
• Focusing on root cause: Prioritize eliminating the social and political barriers to progress that systemically and disproportionately prohibit thriving within historically marginalized communities;
• Disaggregating data: Illustrate through historical analysis that the entire concept of race in America remains the determining variable for inequity across identity groups, as reflected in disaggregated data (i.e., cataloguing data according to racial, gender, class, geographical, sexual orientation and other categories);
• Exercising power: Change the rules (policies, practices, norms) within your organization that erode trust, put individuals in harm’s way, or perpetuate race-neutral/color-blind grantmaking practices.

Despite the cyclical nature of institutional violence that predictably targets Black and other historically marginalized people, we know that the hoarding and asserting of power in order to create or maintain advantage is the source of the problem. Our intentional efforts to consider the impact of our grantmaking decisions, and to make those decisions in ways that share and yield power, provide an important check against abuse of this kind. Going beyond talk to act on racial equity principles and practices in your work provides a meaningful response to the expressions of pain and desperation from so many people who are suffering within our communities.

Though this is only one of many steps required for rectifying generations of preventable social ills, it may be essential to our collective progress as funders. To this end, we remain available as a community of practice and learning to support your efforts both in the immediate as well as the long-term. Working together, we can hold ourselves accountable to generating lasting change.

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Kathleen Enright
CEO
Council on Foundations (Washington)

Our Country Is Broken

Our country is broken. The Covid-19 pandemic has laid bare the devastating disparities in our society. But these inequities are not new — they have existed and persisted for centuries. The systems and leaders we all depend on continue to fail us.

Black communities are under constant threat from individual and state sanctioned violence. People are scared and sick as they battle not only a deadly virus but also the unconscionable racism that threatens their daily lives.

The recent deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery and the racialized threats made against Christian Cooper are stark reminders of the dangers black people in America face every day.

While many are experiencing unprecedented dread and fear, communities of color and Indigenous communities are particularly weary. Having already borne the brunt of the Covid-19 pandemic, with loved ones sickened, dying, or economically crushed by the virus, these communities are forced to endure repeated unjust killings and increased policing with no end in sight. Increased displays of public xenophobia and violence have harmed Asian and Latinx communities. It is unbearable to witness.

In this tragic time, philanthropy must commit to breaking the cycle of racist violence and oppression that is killing people and destroying communities. We have an obligation to redouble our efforts to admit to what is wrong, fix what is broken and help communities heal.

I’ve heard many leaders in philanthropy talk about “building back better” in the aftermath of the Covid-19 crisis. I wonder what that really means? I know what it does not mean.

• Building back better does not mean rebuilding an unjust status quo system that works for some but not for all.
• Building back better does not mean ensuring comfort, safety and economic opportunity for White Americans while leaving Black Americans, Indigenous communities, and communities of color behind.
• Building back better does not mean allowing insidious beliefs and false assumptions about who deserves to survive and thrive in America go unchecked.
• Building back better does not mean preparing for a “new normal” but creating the “next normal.”

After we have taken some time to mourn, grieve and support each other, particularly our Black community members, we need to get to work. The only way we can live up to our promise of advancing the greater good is by working to rebuild and recreate systems in a way that provides safety, economic security, justice, and health for all.

Philanthropy has been at the heart of major advancements in society for generations and will continue to play an important role long into the future, but only if we use the power, privilege and resources we are afforded to create meaningful, deep and transformative change that combats racism as its own deadly disease.

Our colleagues within the CHANGE Philanthropy network — Asian Americans/Pacific Islanders in Philanthropy, ABFE : A Philanthropic Partnership for Black Communities, Emerging Practitioners in Philanthropy, Funders for LGBTQ Issues, Hispanics in Philanthropy, Native Americans in Philanthropy, Women’s Funding Network, National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy, Neighborhood Funders Groupand Philanthropic Initiative for Racial Equity — have led the effort to integrate diversity, inclusion and social justice into philanthropic practice and culture for decades. These organizations articulate a compelling vision for how philanthropy can advance equity and catalyze social change. Their resources, expertise, and tools can guide the way on what will be a long journey toward change. We will continue to amplify their work and deepen and extend the longstanding Council programs, like Career Pathways and HR Retreat, that support a more diverse and inclusive sector.

Sometimes a system must come to a breaking point to be ready for change. In that moment, something tips. There is a broader understanding that the pain of maintaining the status quo exceeds the pain of change. That moment is now.

***

Javier Alberto Soto
President
Denver Foundation

“In these uncertain times.” For the past two-and-a-half months, I’ve struggled with this phrase. While much about this moment is, in fact, uncertain — the course this virus will take, what treatments or vaccines may become available and when, how aspects of daily life are changing — there is a whole lot that is certain.

It’s clear, for example, that the way you experience the pandemic depends a lot on who you are. If you are poor, Black, brown, undocumented, disabled, older, or a worker on the front lines of a hospital or grocery store, you are at greater risk from the health and/or economic impacts of this public health crisis. It is also certain that if you contract the virus and belong to one or more of these categories, your outcome is likely to be much worse than someone who does not.

Here’s what else is certain: The people who bear the brunt of this terrible moment are the same people who suffer under the inequitable and unjust systems that span American life, from criminal justice and public health to education and even our democracy. Pick an indicator: In almost every case, the outcomes nearly always leave people of color and other marginalized groups at a deficit. The coronavirus has made this more obvious, but it’s been certain for a long time.

The killing of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer provides yet another clear, unambiguous, and yes, certain, example of how race so often shapes destiny. As we are all too aware, however, Mr. Floyd is not the first African American male to suffer this fate in America. He is just the latest person whose life has been cut short by someone with real or imagined power of authority.

I was a 10-year-old living in Miami when the police sirens and black plumes of smoke rose over the city in 1980. A grand jury had acquitted four police officers in the murder of Arthur McDuffie, a Black salesman and former Marine who was killed after a high-speed chase. The McDuffie Riots, as they became known, were the first explosions of urban violence in a large US city since the 1960s. They changed Miami in many ways, damaging the city’s economy and reputation.

The riots also resulted in a missed opportunity. Rather than using that moment to build cohesion and trust among Miamians of disparate backgrounds, many retreated into segregated communities as new walls, fences, and other barriers were built to fortify these lines of separation.

These feelings of fear, pain, and anger came rushing back 32 years later, when Trayvon Martin, a teenager from Miami, was shot dead by a self-described vigilante in Central Florida where Trayvon was visiting relatives. We can be certain that wearing a hoodie and carrying a box of Skittles isn’t what got Trayvon killed. Doing those two things as a young Black male did.

Over the past week, cities across America, including Denver, have responded with rage. Many protests have been peaceful while others have devolved into violence and conflict, mainly between agitators and law enforcement. We must not lose focus on what sparked this rage in the first place; rather, we must all ask ourselves what we can do to address it. Because the anger is real. The anger is deep-rooted. The anger is justified. But the anger must be harnessed in ways that actually change the course we are on.

True justice must come to those responsible for taking Mr. Floyd’s life. But full and complete justice will come only when true equality stretches across all of our economic and political systems, especially for those who happen to be Black or brown in America.

That much is certain.

***

Dan Cardinali
CEO
Independent Sector (Washington)

See, Judge, Act

The world needs many of us to step up.

I speak only for myself. As a white man who runs an advocacy organization headquartered just blocks from the White House, I know I can do more. With no condemnation, I believe that many of us can do so much more.

It struck me that we talk about the current crisis gripping our nation as if it’s new. We all know it’s not new. No community knows that more than the Black community in this country. No one understands the weight of 400 years of oppression, discrimination, hate, and systematic racism more than the people who have directly suffered from it.

The killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery join a long list of others. Other names who have become hashtags and shaken our image of ourselves, our country, our organizations, and our communities. And if we’re willing to take a longer historical perspective, thousands more names need to be included that have been memorialized so powerfully at the Equal Justice Initiative’s National Memorial for Peace and Justice.

Many of us began the work of embedding racial equity or disaggregating our data or considering strategies that better center the voices and experiences of people of color only within the last decade. We have made incremental steps over the last few years, hiring more people of color, changing missions, focusing on data-driven results. And while I want us to honor the incremental steps we are making so that we don’t lose sight that even small progress is admirable, we must do more.

Many of you may know that my background and education are in theological reflection and social change. I spent years in Mexico as a young man and I learned a liberation theology and social justice framework known as “see, judge, act.” I have found it incredibly helpful in my own processing of our current events. The framework invites us to push our thinking and understand what it is we’re seeing in ourselves and others, judge and interrogate the systems in which we operate, and act to change it.

Seeing is about grounding yourself in the lived experience of others, as well as taking a hard look at yourself. We see Black people killed by police, we see a complex system of policing that resists reform, we see COVID-19 disproportionally affecting people of color and indigenous communities, we see the discrimination and bigotry toward Asian Americans being blamed for a global pandemic. At times, the pain of the infliction is bad enough, but it’s compounded by the insidious culture wars that divide us and pit us against our family members, colleagues, neighbors, and even our leaders. As leaders in our own right, we must lean into seeing this and not retreating in pain from those who are held down by systems — often literally and violently.

Judging is about taking the time to interrogate your values, belief systems, and behavior, as well as striving to understand how the various systems of our society work. As leaders we’re called to do the research, clarify the values that drive us individually and organizationally, analyze systems, disaggregate the data and look for patterns of disparity, and then do the hard work to understand how inequity gets perpetuated. And all of us in leadership roles must balance community voice and agency in building that analysis, while striving not to burden the people suffering the most to do our hard work of “judging.” Judging ideally results in building both a commitment and a clear results-oriented pathway to dismantle inequity.

Finally, we must act — individually, organizationally, and collectively. We must do things differently. We must honor the progress small and large, but never stop striving to dismantle the systems that cause these inequities, taking well thought through risks in not just calling for peace rooted in justice, but smartly deploying our talent and financial resources to rework the unjust systems to ensure sustained progress. It is humbling and deeply encouraging to engage with the people and organizations working to dismantle many of our nation’s unjust systems. Some organizations have been working on these issues for generations. Others may be newer to the work. All bring critical assets to make a big difference. What has become clear to me in my tenure at Independent Sector is that it is only through the collective effort of myriad individuals and organizations that we’ll continue to evolve our systems in favor of a nation in which all people thrive.

As leaders in this sector, we are the heart and conscience of this nation. As leaders we cannot recoil from the pain of this moment or allow it to overwhelm our individual and organizational ability to respond to the structural racism once again laid bare so clearly. We are a nation in crisis. We are humanity in crisis. While obvious, it is worth saying that how we show up right now must be grounded in intentionality, while harnessing the passion and drive for action.

For me, the reflective practice of “see, judge and act” has helped me ground myself to clarify our work at Independent Sector and mobilize our resources in partnership with other sector leaders to work for racial equity. It also grounds me in the brutal reality that there is tremendous work still before us and complacency is not an option.

We say we believe that the result of our work should be all people in the United States thriving. It is clear that people are not thriving. We are committed to doing more. We ask you to join us in coalition, in membership, in partnership and in fierce accountability within our own system. See, judge and act, and always take care of yourselves while you do.

***

Sister Donna Markham
President
Catholic Charities USA (Alexandria, Va.)

These past few days as we watched the news, many of us found ourselves moved to tears over the killing of George Floyd. Our horror at watching the murder of this man on live TV will be something we can never forget. Catholic Charities USA is profoundly disturbed by such continual repetition of acts of wanton indifference to human life, especially to the lives of our African American brothers and sisters.

Community is created by human beings, by our choices and actions. Together we can change things. As we enter into this Pentecost season, we join in prayer that God’s Spirit will lead us to deep conversion of heart and equip us with the wisdom, insight, and courage to reject hatred and racism and lead us all to heal our broken nation and our broken hearts. We pray most intently for our black and brown sisters and brothers in this time of extraordinary suffering.

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Alberto Ibargüen
President
Knight Foundation (Miami)

The killing of George Floyd is challenging all of us to rise to the moment; a moment of justice and a moment of change.

To do that, let’s first acknowledge that this isn’t about a single incident. It’s about a long line of Black Americans like George Floyd killed by police, and of criminal justice responding only after, as in the case of Ahmaud Arbery, video evidence broke open what in the past was hidden.

The cumulative weight of perceived, consistent injustice makes any community explode. That righteous anger leaves any demonstration easy prey for incitement to violence, including by those whose goal is to disrupt and divide us.

To rise to the moment, we need facts; we need light, not more heat. And that is where a free and independent press shows how essential it is to a functioning democracy. The combination of people with smartphones and journalists amplifying the story and giving context, using digital technology to disseminate the information in real-time, have put an end to that silence. The roar we hear now is the sound of an engaged community making itself heard.

Journalists must be free to inform community about what is happening, to hold power accountable and to help tell the story of a community’s pain. To rise to the moment, any attack on journalists by police, by demonstrators or by public officials must be opposed. What happened in Minneapolis has become a touchstone for frustration, anger and pain felt in communities across the country. We stand with every community that wants a more equitable future. And we will continue to work on behalf of this value in the 26 communities where Knight Foundation operates.

Informed, equitable, inclusive and participatory communities are as essential to a strong democracy as an informed citizenry. The killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis is a terrible affront to that ideal — and this weekend is a reminder of how tough it will be to rise to the moment. But our democracy depends on our willingness to try.

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Ashwin Vasan
CEO
Fountain House (New York)

Fountain House abhors the police violence and racism infusing the criminal justice system that led to the tragic recent murders of George Floyd in Minneapolis and Breonna Taylor in Louisville, and delayed prosecution in the murder of jogger Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia.

We are an organization dedicated to working together with people with mental illness so that they can thrive and advocating for policies that support that thriving — including justice reform. People with serious mental illness, particularly Black people with mental illness, are seriously overrepresented in the justice system. Too often, people come to Fountain House after they have been harmed because of structural racism and related unwarranted encounters with police and the justice system. Such violence is also a catalyst for trauma and mental illness to develop or worsen. There are policies and practices being piloted around the country that can avert these unlawful tragedies.

We mourn with the families and friends of those slain — recognizing that there are likely many other victims’ names that we do not know — and join with advocates across the entire social justice spectrum calling for systemic police and justice reform.

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Ellen M. Gilligan
President
Greater Milwaukee Foundation

Now Is the Time for Racial Justice

There are two public health crises in America right now. One is quite recent. One has been afflicting us for generations.

Racism is our nation’s oldest sin and most vile disease, and I am grief-stricken that we are again mourning more black lives lost and more communities capsized, all the while lamenting that nothing has changed since the last atrocity. Well, we must change, and we must start now.

Our communities of color are vibrant, unique and essential, yet we accept that in Milwaukee, an African American can expect to live 14 fewer years than a person who is white. There are no excuses, and there can be no more delays. We need to eradicate the systemic racism that withholds wellness and power from people of color and keeps our entire region from truly thriving.

We cannot continue to tolerate the apathy or intent that causes the lives of black and brown fathers, brothers, mothers, sisters, children to be disregarded, devalued and discarded. This cycle of pain endlessly affects people in our community, and the recurring injustice — whether in our back yard or 1,000 miles away — causes damage in equal amounts to the heart and health of all who live with the reality that the next time history repeats, they or their loved ones could be in harm’s way.

Individual acts of violence and prejudice inflame these wounds, but the roots are embedded in how we have shaped society in a manner that benefits people differently, and for the most part, those differences are favorable if you’re white and detrimental if you’re not. That cardinal disparity of embedded racism, and the systems that support it, are what leaders across our community — especially white leaders — must work together to dismantle.

The policies, practices and social norms that drive life experiences to diverge by race are obvious to those affected but often remain invisible to those with privilege: Housing covenants and real estate practices that have prevented nonwhite residents from living in communities of their choice and securing mortgages and homes that would have changed their family’s trajectory for prosperity. The uneven application of laws resulting in incarceration rates for black men that have reached epidemic levels. School and social structures built to be navigated by English language speakers, leading to disparate access to learning and resources for those whose fluencies do not include English. And now, COVID-19, which, through the disproportionate rates of infection and loss of life in black and Latino communities, has proven just how deep our health inequities run.

These and many other systems of bias predate us all, but many in power have tended to them through the years while others have perpetuated them through inaction.

For how long have our friends and neighbors of color cried for justice, only for their calls to be met with silence and indifference by those who should be their allies?

The reactions to injustice we see now are the result of accumulated oppression and the denial of hope that the disparities, the persecution, the dehumanizing treatment will ever end. But end they must — if not yesterday, then today.

First, we must be willing to honestly see the suffering in our neighborhoods, our communities and our country. We must exit the comfort of our individual existence and hold tight to the humanity that allows us to recognize the innate worth all people possess. We must celebrate diversity, including the rich contributions that communities of color have made and continue to make to our collective way of life.

Most importantly, we must hold ourselves and each other accountable for permanently changing both our narrative and reality.

The Greater Milwaukee Foundation made a generational commitment to racial equity and inclusion in 2016, and the work we have accomplished side-by-side with community means something, but it is not enough. Our pace must be faster, our resolve must be sharper, our urgency must be greater as we seek justice. A much greater burden must be carried by white leaders and white institutions, and I pledge to do all I can to advance a new era that ends racist structures.

As your community foundation, we love Milwaukee and have spent the last 105 years dedicated to its brightest future. I know you love Milwaukee too. Our community has come together before to develop bold solutions to big problems. We have the knowledge. We have the ability. Together, we have everything we need to transform Milwaukee.

I want you to hear and know that you matter. Your family matters. Your community matters. Now is the time to rid ourselves of the virus of racism so everyone in our community can experience the joy, health, safety and fulfillment in life that they deserve. Now is the time for everyone to thrive.

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Valerie Red-Horse Mohl
Executive Director
Social Venture Circle (Sunnyvale, Calif.)

The events of the past few weeks, whereby a Black man was murdered in an obviously unjust show of power and force amidst a global pandemic that has been creating an even greater poverty divide for our marginalized communities, are more than disturbing. While I don’t condone violence, I understand the generational feelings of helplessness, anger, and injustice that fester to where violence becomes almost unavoidable. What we are experiencing is not a new phenomenon. This is not about one death or one instance of abuse of power. Our country has a history of genocide, slavery, and murder and it was built on unjust and inequitable crimes against Native Americans and African Americans. It is a deeply rooted systemic issue. The systems of wealth and power in this country are broken.

This is not purely a racial issue — it is foundationally rooted within bureaucracy and privilege. Many White people were also protesting alongside our Black, Brown, and Red brothers and sisters this weekend. We are all tired of the injustices continually tolerated and overlooked. We must unite as humanity to demand deep and serious systemic change.

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The Washington Ballet

The Washington Ballet is deeply saddened and outraged by the tragic death of George Floyd and all of those before him who have been victims of racism, racial profiling, violence, injustice, and marginalization.

Our community of dancers, students, families, staff, and patrons of all shades of black, white, and brown from our nation’s capital and across the globe stand together, committed to bringing change to our nation and healing to our community through the connective power of our art form.

As ambassadors and leaders of the artistic and cultural fabric of our community and nation, we recognize our position of power and privilege and feel it is our responsibility to help us come together.

Tomorrow (Tuesday, June 2), The Washington Ballet will join in solidarity with the black community, the music industry, and other cultural institutions for Blackout Tuesday: a day to disconnect from work and reconnect with our community. We invite our community to delve into this list of resources to heighten this day of contemplation and learning. #TheShowMustBePaused

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Don Howard
President

Kafi D. Blumenfeld
Chair of the Board
James Irvine Foundation (San Francisco)

We Stand With the Protestors Because Our Country Must Change

We start the week with heavy hearts. We are both optimistic people, but the senseless killing of George Floyd in Minnesota and the protests that have followed reveal just how far we have to go to end the racism in America that extinguishes opportunity, hope, and, too often, lives.

There are far too many examples of police and others with power devaluing the lives of Black Americans and other people of color. It should be no surprise when anger about this turns to protests and even destruction.

We stand with the protestors because our country must change. George Floyd. Ahmaud Arbery. Breonna Taylor. These are not isolated incidents of rogue individual actions or unfortunate circumstances. These Americans, and far too many others, are innocent victims of racist acts of violence.

We must mourn and honor them, but we also must see the bigger picture: These deaths are egregious symptoms of historical and ongoing racist policies and practices that keep power with some while denying the most basic opportunities to the rest of our fellow Americans. Racist policies and other biases determine where people can live, what education and health care they receive, how the criminal justice system treats and mistreats them, and, ultimately, how long they live.

So, our hearts are heavy. But we stand with the protestors and remain hopeful that this renewed focus on the persistence of systemic racism will lead to desperately needed progress. We feel the responsibility and the potential for progress, as we lead a foundation focused on creating opportunity for the people of California.

Racism is a persistent obstacle to the Irvine Foundation’s vision for our state: a California where all low-income workers have the power to advance economically. It affects who is recruited, hired, and advanced at work; who can speak up to protect their wages and rights on the jobs; and whose voice is invited and heard in local and state decision making.

We are grateful that our focus and resources allow us to support courageous, inspiring leaders and organizations working to build power among communities that face racism and other barriers to opportunity. We will continue to fund these efforts and to learn from them — and use that knowledge to continue pushing our institution to do what is in our power to remove those barriers.

We end with two examples of leaders we are proud to support, listen to, and learn from.

The first is Reverend Ben McBride, Co-Director of PICO California, who founded The Trust Through Reform project to engage California’s communities and police in dialogues, and to deliver a community-led training program for the police (called H.E.A.T. for Hiring, Equipment, Accountability, and Training). In a sermon last week, Ben said: “This current moment is calling us to reimagine, redesign, and rethink how we move forward and build a society that sees the humanity of black and brown people. We call for action! Go to bringtheheat.info to join the movement.”

The other is Anthony Thigpenn, who founded and leads California Calls, a grantee that has built power among people of color in Los Angeles and beyond for over 30 years. This past weekend he shared his analysis with us: “What makes this moment particularly unique is the convergence of three historic crises: COVID-19, the resulting economic recession/depression, and the mass resurgence of the movement against racist police violence and power abuses. We should also note that while communities of color overall suffer most, Black communities suffer disproportionately. This requires building both multiracial efforts and related efforts specific to particular communities.

“What this moment affirms for me is:

1. People and communities who are suffering most being at the center of determining what change is needed and actively participating in bringing about that change. This means community organizing, leadership development, and power building.

2. No one organization, network, community, or social sector can alone build the power needed to achieve the deep structural change needed. This means alliance building and strategic collaborations are fundamental.

3. No one form of exercising power (mass protest, voting, advocacy, direct action, moral appeals) can achieve the deep structural change needed. What we have not figured out, let alone mastered, is developing strategies that incorporate all these forms of power. This is a challenge for social justice movement leaders, particularly in this moment.”

There is much work to do, and we stand with those working for change. And we recommit to turning tragedy into action; action that will end the violence, end the racism, and give all Californians the opportunity to pursue the American dream.

***

Jonathan Peck
President, CEO
The CivicLab (Chicago)

“People are torn and hurt because they are tired of seeing black men die, constantly over and over again … they have pain, they have the same pain I feel … I want everything to be peaceful but I can’t make everybody be peaceful” — the words of George Floyd’s brother, Philonise.

The tragic sanctioned murder of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis Law Enforcement once again highlights the deep-rooted systemic racism, societal injustices and in particular the rampant police brutality that pervades our society against Black and Brown people.

Our people are tired, frustrated and angry! It’s not enough to fight the COVID-19 pandemic with all of the exasperated racial and gender inequities, but to do so all while under direct threat of being verbally harassed, assaulted, beaten and or killed while shopping, eating, bird watching, walking, jogging, or working out. What kind of living is this — Indeed, this has been the normal standard daily routine for millions of Black and Brown people living in these United States, it’s just now in recent decades getting caught on video and more readily available for masses to consume and digest.

United States law enforcement and white people brazenly harass, assault and kill Black and Brown people constantly with impunity and for all to see. They violate with such rigor our civil and human rights daily utilizing all of the forms of oppression with all its tools readily available: ideological, institutional, interpersonal and internalized superiority and with virtually no repercussions for such inhumane and terroristic behavior towards their fellow human beings.

To be crystal clear whenever you put too many sparks around a powder keg, that thing is most likely going to explode and if it is still in the house then clearly the house will be destroyed. We are witnessing the justified outrage and resistance to decades and centuries of brutal subjugation by white colonial institutions like their police forces who continue to terrorize our communities and murder our brothers and sisters fully sanctioned by the local, county, state and federal legal and socio-political institutions of these United States.

***

Jim Canales
President
Barr Foundation (Boston)

In Another Moment of Shared Tragedy, Profound Sadness, and Anger, We Must Act

There is no denying that the scourge of racism continues to plague our country.

The murders of Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia, George Floyd in Minnesota, and Breonna Taylor in Kentucky remain far too familiar. In the first two instances, we know their names and their stories because there is video evidence of the heinous actions leading to their deaths. As many have asked whenever such horrific incidents occur: how many of these acts happen sight unseen?

Last week, we also saw the viral video of the disturbing confrontation in Central Park between Amy Cooper, a white woman walking her dog, and Christian Cooper, an African-American bird watcher. The exchange captured her instinctive willingness to render a false accusation about an African-American man to the police, after being rightly called out by Mr. Cooper for violating park rules to keep dogs leashed.

Let’s call it for what it is: at the center of each of these incidents is racism, plain and simple. So, what are we to do?

For those who have experienced racism on a consistent basis and seen this cycle play out far too many times, it is all so exhausting.

Of course, we can condemn and lament. Yet, actions always speak louder than words. I know my words in a blog post matter little. What matters is what we now choose to do.

Earlier this year, I wrote about “Barr’s Equity Journey” and the long-term work we have been engaged in to more fully integrate diversity, inclusion, and equity in our work.

At Barr, what we do must continue to be shaped and influenced by the disproportionate effects of COVID on communities of color, the continued racist actions toward African-Americans in particular, and the existence of policies and structures that systematically oppress people of color, immigrants and others who are, put simply, not white.

Centering our work on equity runs through every facet of Barr’s work. Through our Education program, we support the fundamental redesign of high schools so that they create opportunities for students left behind by our current system. We advocate for climate policies that not only reduce greenhouse gases but address the inequitable impacts of our old ways of doing things. We advance arts and creativity that lift up the full breadth of our diversity and help us imagine a more equitable future.

As we redouble these efforts, we interrogate what it means to put equity at the center, to keep examining the systemic causes of inequities, and to advance the fundamental changes we need. For us, asking these questions is central to our mission, is rooted in our values, and is essential to how we mark progress.

We commit to this long-term work and, more importantly, to the actions that render these words real. We also stand in solidarity with our partners and all who continue to work tirelessly to create a more equitable and just world.

The tragic events gripping our country right now make it clear how much more work there is to do, how necessary it is for all of us to engage, and the urgency of converting intention into action.