A few years ago, a young colleague invited me to a party to meet his boss, executive director of a global nonprofit and a former scion of Wall Street. Some cursory research beforehand revealed that we had a mutual acquaintance who served on a board with the nonprofit leader. When introduced, I brought up the connection, but he displayed no interest. Instead he talked about his volunteer work and tossed around household names like confetti. As he spoke, he scanned the room without so much as a sideways word of inquiry.
As my friend fidgeted next to me, another alpha male approached. I introduced myself, but my friend and I were closed out of the conversation as the two men shared yuks about some insider financier stuff. My companion tried to weave me back into the conversation; he mentioned I was a writer and an artist with a big show on the horizon. My friend did not mention that I also was a potential donor. The men regarded us as if we were heads of iceberg lettuce and returned to their conversation.
I excused myself from the group and then the party. My friend later apologized, as nice men often do for the bad behavior of other men, and then lost his diplomacy, using colorful language to condemn the whole exchange. Weeks later, I got an email from the director with an inquiry about pursuing a grant application with our foundation. It was an easy no.
A Shifting Culture
These conversations used to be the kind of thing women suffered through. But in the last two years, the #MeToo movement, the Brett Kavanaugh confirmation hearings, and the revelations of bad behavior of all kinds have prompted women and men to talk more openly about gender dynamics.
Rightfully the focus in the nonprofit world has been on harassment and other abuse, especially given findings such as the Chronicle-Association of Fundraising Professionals polling that found that 1 out of 4 female fundraisers have been harassed. Two-thirds of that inappropriate behavior came from donors, board members, and others who are in power.
I have confidence that egregious sexism is going to be ever-more-closely monitored and legally challenged to make safer work environments. But all of the attention to extreme gender inequity got me thinking about subtler forms of sexism that are pervasive in the nonprofit world.
As a woman and a leader of a family foundation, I have never been scared for my job or physically threatened, which is a critical distinction. Yet sexism is pervasive, disrupting, and draining; it undermines the real work that needs to be done.
Letting this culture persist is not just ethically wrong, but a practical mistake that could leave hundreds of millions of dollars on the table instead of going to nonprofits.
More women are gaining access to significant wealth or creating it themselves. One estimate says that women now hold one-third of the world’s wealth, and life-expectancy tables indicate that some women will inherit twice, once from their parents and again from their spouses.
I can tell you firsthand that the sexism we see today is having a harmful impact on many organizations. As I thought about my own giving in recent years, I realized that we have drifted toward nonprofits led by women, and it may be because of the way male executive directors treat female donors. True, there are many women in the nonprofit arena, but I realize now that the transition is deliberate. We have gravitated toward collaboration, away from hierarchy or a traditional masculine chain of command. I suspect we are not alone.
A Variety of Offensive Behaviors
How does sexism in philanthropy play out? Sometimes in an initial meeting I trigger a competitive response from men and am forced to listen to a long monologue validating their expertise — what I call the “speaker’s corner” conversational approach.
At other times, I am invisible as they focus attention on my husband and avoid eye contact with me. On more than one occasion, a fundraiser has pushed his business card only toward my husband.
While my husband and I interviewed one philanthropy consultant, he answered each of my questions aggressively with his own question — à la Kavanaugh and Senator Amy Klobuchar during his confirmation hearings. He did not do so with my husband. Most men are jocular with my husband and regard me warily.
For years, the climate in the investment world was toxic, until we finally found the right partnerships. One young “duke” of Wall Street repeatedly asked me (and not my husband) if I was able to grasp his presentation. I finally called him out on his behavior by asking him if he was concerned that I was slow. He got the message.
An undercurrent of resentment often gets funneled from men toward women with financial ballast. If we challenge male authority, we can get branded as “difficult.” That’s not news, but it is a great way to deter women philanthropists. I have to admit that I am complicit in enabling this kind of sexism because I put up with it.
I enjoy the relationships with the women fundraisers I work with — I know about their families, sometimes connect on social media, and enjoy lovely exchanges. By contrast, most of the men I work with know very little about me. Very few ask about my profession or my children, or really exhibit much curiosity about what registers with me and how or why. This lack of engagement goes further than maintaining a professional “Maginot Line” — it is a cultural norm that we need to change. I know that withholding curiosity can be rooted in laziness, a desire to hold on to power, or simply a fear of connection. Curiosity invites a cerebral intimacy, an association that takes effort and time. The investment is worth it.
Debra Mesch, a professor of philanthropic studies at the Lilly School of Family Philanthropy at the University of Indiana, noted in an article on women and giving that “while we know women’s potential as donors is growing, we know far less about women donors themselves — their motivations for supporting specific causes, the experiences that have shaped their approach to philanthropy, or what they ultimately hope to achieve through their contributions.” Savvy nonprofits will remedy that situation as quickly as possible.
How We Can Put an End to Sexism
Donors have to be dedicated and tactful stewards of change to root out cultural biases that are ingrained. Donors should insist on board diversity, observe staff behavior to suss out gender inequities, and challenge sexism that is entrenched in institutional behavior.
Small gestures matter. Recently, I attended a lunch meeting where no water was available. When I asked the male director where to get some, he shrugged me off. When I went foraging in a cupboard for four glasses and a pitcher, a female subordinate hustled in to assist me.
I knew it never occurred to the director how sexist this seemingly innocuous series of actions appeared. I should have politely asked him to engage, to put down his phone and show me where to get water — to not assume a woman would take over a menial task. He is an otherwise thoughtful man, not an oaf or malicious in any way, just clueless. And yet I made a mental note to observe the vibe of the staff more closely in case this small scenario was indicative of a bigger pattern.
The philanthropic world is predicated on making the world a better place and elevating us all into a better global community, and yet it is constricted by the same limitations as the rest of the universe. Enough already. It’s time to lead the way.
Isa Catto welcomes suggestions for future topics. She is an artist and executive director of the Catto Shaw Foundation and is writing a book about inheritance.
