What’s Next for Mutual Aid?
Last week we dove into what motivates people to give directly to those in need and how technology is making that easier than ever. As my colleague Eden Stiffman reported, it’s a topic that has a lot of traction right now. She explored many different forms of direct giving, including mutual aid — a practice with deep historical roots that increased significantly during the pandemic.
Mutual-aid groups emphasize an egalitarian way of meeting needs and providing help with no strings attached, Eden reports. Community-based nonprofits may participate in and collaborate with mutual-aid networks, but the groups themselves are typically volunteer led and unincorporated — often because they prefer it that way.
Some mutual-aid organizers and participants oppose the bureaucracy and hierarchies of nonprofits and the donor-recipient power dynamic that dominates many charities.
“There aren’t donors versus constituents versus volunteers, but rather we have this huge overlap of all three,” says Frank Fredericks, who is involved with Astoria Mutual Aid Network in Queens. It’s the idea that everyone has needs and everyone has something to give back. “There’s this breakdown of these categories, and that’s part of the beauty of mutual aid.”
Another nonprofit, Ioby, offers a crowdfunding platform and fundraising coaching, as well as other assistance to very small grassroots groups. The name stands for “in our backyards.” The nonprofit launched a pilot program to support 10 mutual-aid groups in the New York area. Ioby’s assistance includes fiscal sponsorship, which allows the groups to accept charitable donations even though they don’t have tax-exempt status themselves.
As local needs have ebbed and flowed since the start of the pandemic, the organizations have continued to evolve. Some are now seeking nonprofit status as a way to attract more funding from foundations and businesses so they can continue offering assistance as smaller contributions have waned. Others are working to distribute the money they raised and are considering disbanding.
The groups’ divergent paths show both the promise and the precariousness of mutual aid as a way for communities to meet their own needs at a time when other systems fail to deliver.
Fredericks, the volunteer in Queens, New York, connected with the organizers of the Astoria Mutual Aid Network and began volunteering. The network became a place where many direct services in Astoria were coalescing — shopping and delivering food and hygiene products for neighbors, checking in on the elderly, helping people navigate health care or insurance information, for example. Fredericks helped create a fundraising team, applied for grants, and worked to develop the group’s accounting practices.
He saw Astoria Mutual Aid Network as an opportunity to quickly tap into the people and resources needed to address urgent concerns.
“If that means we’re working with an old-school nonprofit, fine,” he says. “If it means we’re helping start a new nonprofit, fine. If it means we’re getting a government grant, fine. But how do we get it done so that our community is taken care of?”
That just-get-it-done attitude resonates with Erin Barnes, who co-founded Ioby. The structure an organization takes should fit the work, not donors’ expectations, she says. “You don’t do better work because you have certain indicators of incorporation. You do better work by doing better work.”
For some groups, not having tax-exempt status was — and continues to be — a logistical barrier.
Hadass Wade created the fundraising infrastructure for Bed-Stuy Strong, a mutual-aid network in Brooklyn. She stitched together a series of payment apps — Venmo, PayPal, Zelle, and Cash App — to filter into a “community fund” in a personal bank account that the group used to purchase groceries and other items that neighborhood residents needed.
“Having the flexibility of movement through those different platforms really helped us move a lot of money and provide a lot of groceries and supplies over the course of the month,” she says.
But many platforms had limits on how much money individuals could move each day or week, while groups with tax-exempt status or a corporate bank account had more flexibility.
Fiscal sponsorship through Ioby removed some of the risks for individual organizers, who no longer had to use their personal bank accounts. It also allowed groups to attract charitable gifts without incorporating as nonprofits themselves.
Bed-Stuy Strong has raised nearly $1.4 million, and organizers have committed to spend down financial reserves. The group has maintained public spreadsheets to show how much money is coming in and going out.
Organizers are working to figure out how to distribute cash grants to neighbors in need. Beyond that, they’re discussing how the group may adapt or change, Wade says. “We’re also examining the possibility that there might not be a reason for Bed-Stuy Strong to exist anymore.”
Take some time to read Eden’s full story on mutual aid. It’s well worth your time.
