361 posts categorized "Current Affairs"

Empathetic leadership during the storm

March 17, 2021

Texas storm capture"Lead with an iron fist," said some.

"Never let them see you cry," others recommended.

"You were born to lead," many affirmed.

Countless people have offered advice and encouragement to me as a leader over the years. Yet the idea of empathy in leadership has rarely been addressed.

As a Black female nonprofit executive in Texas who earlier this winter found herself in a vulnerable moment, I feel compelled to record some of my struggles. First there was the pandemic, followed by the killing of George Floyd and heightened racial tensions, and then — boom! — a winter storm with near-zero temperatures that collapsed the state's power grid and left millions of Texans in dark, unheated homes. Even as it was happening, I knew it was going to be bad, and most likely deadly.

My first instinct was to reach out to my staff and inquire about their housing, food, and other needs. In my experience, employers in times of crisis rarely do wellness checks on their employees (other than to inquire whether the employee will be coming into work or not). While nonprofits are quick to respond to community needs during a disaster, how many organizations offer direct support to their own staff? As an empathetic leader, I was concerned first and foremost that those closest to me were safe and out of harm's way.

During the deep freeze, I considered my teams' mental health and reminded them of our EAP program and insurance plans that could assist with counseling. With a team comprised largely of women of color, I understood how responses to crisis and trauma live in our bodies. But in my role as executive director of Faith in Texas, I also knew I had to consider all the harms suffered by the communities my organization serves.

Where did that leave me? Self-care seems to be the rage these days, but it's much easier said than done. Infuriated by the lack of accountability on the part of Texas officials, ERCOT, and electric companies serving the state, I decided to take a break from the news. But within an hour, an employee texted me asking if we could help dozens of families that had been locked out of their hotel rooms and had nowhere to go.

It was then that the magnitude of the crisis became apparent. This wasn't a time for self-care. As a single mother, my heart ached for the displaced mothers and their children. I imagined them trying to survive the freezing cold, dealing with harsh conditions as they scrambled to find public transportation to the suburbs, where mutual aid groups could secure them rooms. I imgained them trying to find food to eat, water to drink, hygiene products, even underwear for themselves and their kids.

It was more or less the same thing the employee who texted me was experiencing. A Black woman and mother of small children, she, too, was scrambling to find temporary housing. And yet she was advocating for others in crisis; self-care would have to wait.

In the days that followed, family and business colleagues from around the country reached out to check on me and my sons. And my answer to their first question was always, "I'm fine. Grateful to be safe, warm and healthy." But I was numb.

Through my contacts, I began to hear about helpers on the front lines — heroic individuals, small nonprofits, and local Black churches that were doing crucial, in-the-moment work to help people survive. I knew their names wouldn't be mentioned during funder calls. And while local and national media outlets were making an efort to highlight the work they were doing and individuals around the country were responding to calls for donations, I realized I had a responsibility to elevate all the organizations and people who were selflessly neglecting their own self-care to provide critical services. Truth be told, I wasn't sure if every organization had 501(c)(3) status, but that hardly seemed to matter. They needed — and deserved — all the resources they coud get. And they deserved to be trusted to use the money — not just in-kind donations —  in an effective manner. Standing up for grassroots organizations is another role I embrace.

Leading with empathy probably isn't the best long-term strategy for a Black female nonprofit executive looking to impress large funders and donors, but, inspired by John Hope Bryant's Love Leadership, it's the legacy I prefer to leave. Like Bryant, I recognize that there can be no strength without suffering, no power without vulnerability. As Black women calling for equity and healing, my sisters and I speak out of love and respect, from a history of suffering, and mindful of our own vulnerability. All we ask is that you give us an opportunity to show our greatness.

(Photo credit: Mario Cantu/Cal Sport Meia via AP Images)

Headshot_Akilah Wallace_cropAkilah S. Wallace is executive director of Faith in Texas. This article originally appeared in the Opinions section of  Women of Color in Fundraising and Philanthropy.

5 Questions for...Helene Gayle, President and CEO, Chicago Community Trust

February 26, 2021

In Chicago, recovery from the Great Recession was uneven, the lingering economic impacts of the downturn most keenly felt by low-income individuals and Black and Latinx communities. A dozen years on, the COVID-19 pandemic has been equally as devastating for many of those communities, exacerbating disparate economic and health outcomes that all too often are the legacy of structural racism and decades of disinvestment.

To ensure that a post-pandemic recovery does not leave low-income and Black and Latinx communities even further behind, the Chicago Community Trust recently launched Together We Rise: For an Equitable and Just Recovery. Having received more than $37 million in commitments to date, the initiative is working to bring partners from philanthropy, business, government, the nonprofit sector, and local communities together to ensure that those hardest hit by the pandemic are able to build back better and stronger.

PND spoke with Chicago Community Trust president and CEO Helene Gayle about the initiative, some of the lessons we've learned from the pandemic, and what the trust is doing to ensure a more equitable post-pandemic recovery in Chicago and beyond.

Headshot_Helene Gayle Portrait-5QsPhilanthropy News Digest: Tell us about Together We Rise? What is your vision of what success looks like?

Helene Gayle: If you look at the recession of 2007-08, communities of color and communities that were financially fragile and insecure never fully recovered; indeed, they were left further behind. With Together We Rise, we want to make sure those communities don't get left behind this time and that we have a more equitable approach to recovery post-pandemic. We also hope it will be a model for other cities.

Looking at the issue of unemployment, for instance, we are looking at how recovery dollars get distributed to Black and Latinx households and communities, which have been especially hard hit, and at things like small businesses, which, as is painfully clear from the number of business closures in the city, have been disproportionately impacted. Making an impact in these areas means working with communities to build back better than before and helping them develop resilience so that they're better able to weather the next crisis, whatever it might be.

Our vision is to facilitate change that will be noticeable across the community. We want people to see businesses coming back, we want families to be more financially secure and Chicagoans to be able to get jobs that pay well and help them support their families, and we want to stimulate investment in neighborhoods where disinvestment has been the rule. And we hope that we achieve those things in a way that shows members of the community and public officials and other stakeholders that, as a result of the initiative, communities disproportionately impacted by the pandemic were able to bounce back in a way that they would not have without our focus on these issues.

PND: What kind of role did the pandemic and the killing of George Floyd play in the decision to develop and launch the initiative?

HG: Although tragic, COVID and George Floyd's death have been pivotal in raising people's awareness of the legacy of racism in this country. The pandemic clearly highlighted race-based inequities in access to jobs that pay a living wage, in access to affordable, quality health care, in the many structural factors underlying poor health outcomes in this country. And the killing of George Floyd and the sense of racial reckoning it catalyzed have amplified people's commitment to doing something tangible about racial inequity, particularly the economic consequences of the pandemic and issues like the racial wealth gap.

Clearly, one of the things to come out of this whole situation is a much greater awareness of systemic racism in the United States, how it's embedded in institutions and policies, and why it's so hard for individuals of color to get beyond all that. I mean, so many of our systems were set up to keep some populations of color back while giving a leg up to others. With Together We Rise, we're trying to tackle some of these issues, recognizing that while individuals are part of the equation, the real problem is at the institutional and systemic level.

PND: In a recent op-ed, you outlined some of the ways we could begin to address historical race-based inequities — for example, by enforcing and strengthening the Community Reinvestment Act, investing more in public transportation, investing in job creation in low-income communities, and expanding eligibility for the Earned Income Tax Credit. What can CCT and other philanthropic organizations do to make sure the Biden administration is listening and acts on your recommendations?

HG: We've been working on these issues for a long time, but they are also issues that are important to the new administration. President Biden and his team have put economic recovery post-pandemic at the top of their list of priorities, and we're going to continue to push them to move on things that we think will make a difference in closing the racial wealth gap, help close the gap in household wealth, increase investment in communities that have been ignored, and give communities a greater voice in deciding how federal dollars are allocated. All of these are things we'll continue to focus on, and we know they are priorities for the new administration as well.

PND: With coronavirus vaccines being rolled out in communities around the country, what do you think we might be overlooking in our fight against the virus, and what do you think needs to be done over the coming months to address the continuing damage caused by the pandemic?

HG: What was most lacking in the country's response to the virus in 2020 was a clear, consistent national strategy that gave people the information they needed to protect themselves. That would have gone a long way to getting us all rowing in the same direction and saving an untold number of lives. It's one of the things I expect to see under the new administration, and we're starting to see it with vaccine distribution, that kind of all-hands-on-deck effort coordinated at the national level, in partnership with state and local public health officials. That kind of coordinated effort is critical in rolling out vaccines effectively, and it will also help us in our overall COVID prevention efforts.

PND: What are the lessons we should take away from the pandemic? What have we learned that we shouldn't forget?

HG: We've learned a lot about how to engage communities that are hard to reach. We've learned a lot about how to work with community organizations to build trust and get the support of communities that are used to being ignored or neglected. Building trust is incredibly important if the vaccine rollout is to be effective. We know that 58 percent of African Americans nationally say they won't take the vaccine, even though African Americans have been among the hardest hit by the virus. So we really have to focus on and lean into how we are working with those communities and make sure we're doing so in a way that builds trust, not only for the duration of this pandemic, but for the next crisis and the one after that.

Matt Sinclair

The Audacity of Joe Biden

February 01, 2021



Civic_cultureIn her victory speech on November 7, 2020, then-Vice President-elect Kamala Harris spoke of Joe Biden’s audacity in selecting a woman — a Black and Asian-American woman, no less — as his running mate.

The turn of phrase brought to mind the title of former president Barack Obama’s book The Audacity of Hope, forming a bridge to the administration in which Biden served so successfully.

Using the word “audacity” to describe a politician with a reputation for “reaching across the aisle” was, in itself, a little audacious.

And it was perfect.

For me personally, Kamala Harris’s words reminded me of a brief conversation I once had with then-Senator Joe Biden.

In 2002, I attended a social gathering in Washington, D.C., at which two senior senators were present: John McCain of Arizona, a Republican, and Joe Biden of Delaware, a Democrat. I spoke briefly and cordially with both. My conversation with Sen. McCain focused on service-disabled veterans and the steps we could take as a nation to honor their sacrifices by creating more opportunities for them. During my conversation with Sen. Biden, I asked, “Am I shaking the hand of the next president of the United States?” His response took me by surprise. He smiled and gestured affectionately toward McCain. “No, that’s him.”

Even as a complete outsider, I could sense the deep and abiding respect between these men from different ends of the political spectrum. They were rivals, yes, but also friends and fellow statesmen engaged in the effort of maintaining and strengthening democracy.

My interaction with Joe Biden engraved forever on my heart the importance of friendship and decency in politics. It also cemented for me the integral role of courage in democracy.

John McCain had served in Vietnam, enduring years of torture as a prisoner of war. He became the symbol of a certain kind of courage.

Together with McCain, Joe Biden has been emblematic of another kind of courage: the courage to consider other viewpoints, to stay open to compromise and conciliation, to trust in the good faith of one’s adversaries based on a common set of values and traditions. Indeed, in his inaugural address on the steps of the Capitol, President Joe Biden spoke openly of the courage he expects of all Americans, of the need to “listen to one another. Hear one another. See one another. Show respect to one another.”

This kind of courage — civil courage — is truly what we need today. We need the courage to end systemic racism, to fight poverty, to address climate change, to ensure that every child has a loving home, to tackle unemployment, to unite our divided nation.

From the moment I arrived in the United States as a young man, I have cherished and admired the decency and generosity of “ordinary” Americans, from the Carolinas to the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest, in small towns and big cities alike. Certainly, among these diverse multitudes you can find less charitable individuals and groups. But I’ve found that for every zealot espousing a close-minded ideology, there are tens of thousands of Americans — Republicans, Democrats, and independents — whose open minds and open hearts provide a critical mass of kindness and understanding each and every day.

After decades of residing in the U.S. and participating in American life, I have come to value the courage that underlies all that kindness and understanding.

It is not unique to America, certainly.

It is a quality I recognize from my travels across six continents and in my conversations with dairy farmers in Kenya, schoolchildren in Bolivia, youth in Morocco, entrepreneurs in India, a restauranteur in South Sudan, community leaders in Ghana, a registered nurse (and SOS Children’s Villages alumna) in Jamaica.

That same courage was evident in my meetings with other, more celebrated individuals, from astronaut and U.S. senator John Glenn to Mother Teresa, from the Dalai Lama to President Bill Clinton.

After each of these interactions, I came away deeply impressed with the tremendous courage of individuals to make transformational change, regardless of the circumstances or the difficulty involved.

The United States is a country where this kind of courage is critical to our economic and social progress, our national security, and our global leadership.

In an open letter I wrote to President Biden and Vice President Harris, I urged them to focus on vulnerable children and youth in this country and ensure that they have the safety, care, and opportunities they need to thrive.

No other country has civic courage woven into its fiber the way America does. No other country needs it as much we do right now.

Headshot_Neil_GhoshNeil Ghosh (@neilghosh4 / ceo@sos-usa.org), chief executive officer of SOS Children's Villages USA and founder of the Global Youth Initiative, is an advocate of vulnerable children and youth; he focuses on advancing nimble and agile cross-sector collaboration systems to foster sustainable development.

Make America whole: how to heal our divided society

January 08, 2021

America_dividedOn Wednesday, a white man strolled into an office, settled down in a leather chair, and casually put his dirty boots on the desk in front of him. I saw this, and I wept.

For this was not his office, but that of Nancy Pelosi, the Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives. She had been evacuated by armed police for her own protection, and the man, Richard Barnett, was part of a pro-Trump mob of domestic terrorists who had smashed their way into the U.S. Capitol building. It had been a long and traumatic day at the end of a long and traumatic four years, and this is what reduced me to tears — a photograph of a white man with his feet up.

How very easily he and his fellow extremists had strolled, virtually unchallenged by police, through the halls of power. How comfortably he committed the crime of sedition, disgracing our country while the whole world watched in amazement. How warmly he was praised for his thuggery by a president who called him a "very special person" and a "patriot."

I wept for our national humiliation and for the violation of our precious, fragile democracy. I wept for all the Black protesters who just six months previously had knelt on the hard, hot streets outside that very building to peacefully proclaim that their lives matter and who had been beaten, pepper-sprayed, and arrested for their pains.

Many of the rioters who stormed the Capitol in the dying days of Donald Trump's nightmarish presidency had tattoos linking them to White supremacist groups with their roots in some of the darkest — or perhaps whitest — chapters of U.S. history. Racism and its dreadful consequences are deeply engrained in our past and have never been fully resolved. Our present is tainted by the ongoing devaluation of those with Black and brown bodies: we can still hear their blood crying from the ground.

I truly believe that the struggle for justice for all will succeed one day, but not before we, as a nation, own the sin of racism. Its horrors cannot be negated; they must be examined honestly and repented, and the pernicious myth of race dismantled for good.

But rather than seek retaliation against those who are taken in by racist lies and madcap conspiracy theories, we should reach out to them. We should strive for reconciliation, for with God's blessings of forgiveness and grace, even the worst of us can be turned away from evil in repentance and redirected toward good. And if it proves beyond us to change the minds of these people, then we must hope to teach their children the true values of democracy. We must show them how to love those who don't look or sound like their parents, so that this hatred does not poison the hearts of another generation of Americans.

Sadly, the divisions we face today are wounds that go well beyond a few extremist groups; they permeate our society. President-elect Biden is now fighting to mend the soul of America. He cannot do it alone or quickly — a cure will take decades — but he can lead us all in taking bold steps toward healing.

Wounds must be allowed to breathe: first, we must talk openly to one another about our discontent and our anger, our fears and our hopes. And we must listen. This will require love, civility, and courage, but we should not rest until we find common ground. We may be surprised by how much unites us. We all have a soul. We all dream of a better future for ourselves and our children. We are all patriots. We all long for justice. We are all God's children.

Having acknowledged our shared humanity, the next step will be to repair our broken nation. Politicians, faith and community leaders, and educators all have their roles to play, but each of us has the capacity to offer our own unique solution: look into your heart and ask yourself, What can I do to make the world better? How can I overcome my suspicion of the "other" and truly attempt to engage with, understand, and even love someone whose ideology is utterly different from my own? How can I redirect our energies toward the common good?

If I could, I would sit down in a neutral space somewhere with that man who put his feet up on Speaker Pelosi's desk. I would ask him what he was hoping to achieve that day, what he was so angry about and why. I would try to really listen to his answers, however abhorrent I mighr find his beliefs. I suspect he would tell me he thought he was fighting to save democracy, because he saw it as the very soul of America, the source of all hope. That, surely, is one thing we would be able to agree on. And perhaps it would be a start...

Headshot_keith_mageeKeith Magee, author of the forthcoming Prophet Justice: Essays and Reflections on Race, Religion and Politics, is a theologian, public intellectual, and social justice scholar. He is also chair and professor of social justice at Newcastle University and a senior fellow in culture and justice at University College London.

Most popular PhilanTopic posts in 2020

December 31, 2020

DownloadMost of us are beyond relieved that the end of 2020 is in sight, but when historians, artists and writers, and grandparents sharing stories of the good old days look back on it, this longest of years is likely to be remembered as one of the more consequential in American history.

In that spirit, we present the ten most popular posts on the blog posted over the last twelve months. A global pandemic, racial injustice and systemic racism, deepening inequality, climate change, democratic decay, the often timid response of philanthropy and the social sector to urgent challenges — they were the proverbial canaries in the coalmine and will continue to demand our attention and best thinking in 2021.

Enjoy and stay safe.

  1. Funding in the time of COVID-19: questions to deepen racial equity (April 4, 2020) — Michele Kumi Baer
  2. Remote onboarding: set up new hires for success (September 11, 2020) — Molly Brennan
  3. Silence in the social sector (June 24, 2020) — Maria Vertkin
  4. Women and the changing face of philanthropy (July 29, 2020) — Shira Ruderman
  5. Dismantling systemic racism requires philanthropic investment in AAPI communities (October 27, 2020) — Eddy Zheng
  6. The solution for saving mon-and-pop businesses (May 18, 2020) — John Hamilton
  7. The reinvention of the nonprofit (May 14, 2020) – Derrick Feldmann
  8. Leading in solidarity to reshape the nonprofit ecosystem (July 1, 2020) — Allandra Bulger, Shamyle Dobbs, Yodit Mesfin Johnson, Donna Murray-Brown, and Madhavi Reddy
  9. Philanthropy's moment: advocating for and funding what's essential (April 14, 2020) — Andrew Wolk
  10. What we can learn from the Sierra Club's moment of self-reckoning (August 31, 2020) — Garrett Zink

Happy New Year from PND and the folks at Candid. See you in 2021!

How Social Issues Influenced Voting by Young Americans

November 24, 2020

VotingsizedThe research team I lead at Cause and Social Influence tracks the behaviors and motivations of young Americans (ages 18-30) with respect to social issues and movements. And while plenty of issues have drawn the attention of young Americans in 2020 — not least COVID-19 — our latest research finds that one issue In particular drove young Americans to vote in the recent U.S. presidential election: racial equity for Black Americans and people of color.

We surveyed young Americans in October and then again on November 4, the day after the election. Our results — published in two waves, Influencing Young Americans to Act — 2020 Election Research Reports, Wave 1 and Wave 2 — reveal that a consistent, overriding concern about racial inequality, discrimination, and social justice, particularly though not exclusively as it impacts Black Americans, was a key factor in young Americans’ decision to vote and choice of presidential candidate.

Based on our sample, here are a couple of things we learned about young Americans' participation in the 2020 presidential election:

1. Young Americans voted for a candidate, not against one. In our first wave of election research in October, the vast majority of survey respondents had already settled on their candidate, with 64 percent saying they planned to vote for Joe Biden and 28 percent planning to vote for Donald Trump. When asked to give a reason for their choice, 58 percent said they liked and supported their chosen candidate’s stance on issues important to them, while 25 percent said they neither liked nor supported the other candidate’s stance on issues important to them. In other words, a majority of young Americans responding to our survey said that support for, rather than opposition to, a candidate and his positions was a key motivating factor in their choice of candidate.

By the time Election Day (November 3) rolled around, nearly two-thirds (60 percent) of young Americans had already voted or planned to vote for Biden for president, while about a quarter (28 percent) had already voted or planned to vote for Donald Trump.

2. Racial equity was a key factor in the way young Americans voted. When asked in October to name the specific issues or causes driving their choice of candidate, 60 percent of respondents said Black Lives Matter (i.e., racial inequity, discrimination, and injustice related to Black Americans), while 39 percent mentioned civil rights/racial discrimination/social injustice related to groups other than Black Americans.

Respondents' reasons for supporting a candidate remained more or less unchanged for those who voted on November 3, with our second wave survey finding that nearly two-thirds (59 percent) of all respondents said the biggest factor in their choice of candidate was Black Lives Matter (racial inequity, discrimination, and injustice related to Black Americans), while 42 percent mentioned civil rights/racial discrimination/social injustice related to groups other than Black Americans.

The other top issues cited as reasons to back a certain candidate were COVID-19 (44 percent), the budget and economy (43 percent), and healthcare reform (38 percent).

3. Young Americans trust social movements and local government the most. Given the proliferation of false and misleading information in the months leading up to the 2020 election — New York Times' reporters tracked 1.1 million election-related "falsehoods" in September and October alone — we asked young Americans how much they trusted specific individuals and entities to do what was right to ensure a fair election. Social movements (65 percent) and local government (65 percent) scored highest, followed by Joe Biden (58 percent) and nonprofit organizations (5 percent).

The list of "I do not trust them at all" responses among our sample was topped by Donald Trump (42 percent), followed by Republican members of Congress (30 percent), Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi (27 percent), corporations (26 percent), and Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (25 percent).

Bright Spots

During what surely was one of the most divisive elections in my lifetime, one response stood out for me and actually made me hopeful. About half of our sample said their voting experience was good because, "I had a voice in the 2020 presidential election. I think my vote matters this year." Another hopeful response: 64 percent said the results of the election won’t affect their charitable giving plans.

Our research underscores the importance of social issues to young Americans — something we will talk more about in the coming weeks. At the same time, the high levels of activity and engagement surrounding the election speak directly to the opportunity nonprofits and for-profit companies have to promote greater civic engagement and participation among young Americans through the causes they themselves support. If anyone is looking for reasons to be hopeful as we try to get a handle on the coronavirus and keep ourselves and our families safe over the next few months, that seems like a good place to start.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Headshot_derrick_feldmann_2015Derrick Feldmann (@derrickfeldmann) is the founder of the Millennial Impact Project, lead researcher at Cause and Social Influence, and the author of the new book, The Corporate Social Mind. For more by Derrick, click here.

Nonprofits, philanthropies lead effort to ensure paid time off for staff to vote

October 28, 2020

VoteIn early September, Global Citizen and HeadCount, a nonpartisan organization that uses the power of music to drive voter registration and participation among youth, announced Just Vote, a three-year initiative to encourage U.S. employers to provide paid time off for their staff to vote and volunteer. With early commitments from industry giants such as Verizon, Cisco, Procter and Gamble, Delta, Coca-Cola, and Chobani, Just Vote joins a growing number of nonpartisan, nonprofit-driven campaigns, including Nonprofit VOTE and Power the Polls, aimed at addressing critical needs related to voting and this year's election. These campaigns are focused on everything from boosting voter registration in the midst of a pandemic, to staffing up underresourced polling sites, to getting businesses, universities, and philanthropies to provide voting information to their employees — as well as paid time off to do so.

In response to these various calls to action, Ford Foundation president Darren Walker and Wallace Global Fund executive director Ellen Dorsey penned an op-ed calling on the philanthropic sector to join and support these campaigns. They also asked grantmakers to encourage their grantees to do the same and set up an online commitment form for nonprofit and philanthropic executives interested in joining the effort.

The collective response has been impressive. Within days, nearly two hundred organizations responded to Walker and Dorsey's call to action by guaranteeing their staff paid time off for nonpartisan volunteering and civic engagement activities. Signatories include major funders such as Omidyar Network, the Rockefeller Foundation, the David Rockefeller Fund, and the Surdna Foundation, as well as nonprofits like the Bridgespan Group, Brookings, Lincoln Center, the National Trust for Historic Preservation, Oxfam, and StoryCorps. Nonprofit VOTE saw similarly high levels of engagement.

"In just a few short weeks, hundreds of nonprofits, including YMCA, Feeding America, United Way and others, have come together through Nonprofit Staff Vote around a common goal of providing their staff with paid time off to vote and encouraging others to do the same," said Debi Lombardi, the organization's director of partner engagement. "This is a testament to how vital a thriving democracy is to many organizations in the nonprofit sector."

For their part, HeadCount and Global Citizen report the Just Vote campaign has engaged corporate, nonprofit, and philanthropic partners who collectively are ensuring that more than four hundred thousand employees have access to nonpartisan resources and time off to register and vote in the 2020 election.

"We are very encouraged by the Just Vote campaign's momentum across all sectors and proud to see such important civic engagement leadership from our Just Vote partners," said Sarah Acer, head of global philanthropy at Global Citizen. "We know that for many people, voting begins with time off — and time off to vote begins at work — and we encourage all organizations to implement time off to vote measures and encourage their employees to engage in this year's election."

As a result of the collective success of these campaigns, nearly half a million employees will have paid time off to vote and volunteer this year.

Research shows that their engagement could be hugely significant. Nonprofit staff comprise 14 percent of the U.S. workforce, or more than twenty million voters. If every one of them voted, it would be the equivalent of 16 percent of all the votes cast in the 2016 election. What's more, the ripple effects of the commitments already made — and publicized — may lead to more organizations, funders, and institutions agreeing to provide paid time off to their employees to vote.

In an election year like this one, nonpartisan funders, nonprofits, movements, and corporate employers alike have realized that the myriad challenges to voting — from public health-related precautions, to long lines, to the reduced number of polling places, to challenges with arranging child care or pandemic-scrambled work schedules — mean that we all have an obligation to do as much as possible to lessen the burden on our employees. With less than a week to go before Election Day, the most important step employers can take to support staff who want to make their voices heard is giving them paid time off to vote and volunteer.

Headshot_kindred_motesKindred Motes is senior officer, communications and strategic engagement, at the Wallace Global Fund.

5 Questions for Walter Katz, Vice President, Criminal Justice, Arnold Ventures

October 19, 2020

After beginning his career as a public defender in Southern California, Walter Katz spent the next three decades in public service, serving as an independent police auditor in San Jose, California, and as deputy inspector general for the County of Los Angeles Office of Inspector General (OIG) before returning to his hometown of Chicago in 2017 to serve as deputy chief of staff for public safety in the administration of Chicago mayor Rahm Emanuel. In that role, Katz oversaw one of the most complex police reform efforts in the United States and served as a co-negotiator of a consent decree enacted in 2019 that resulted in the design and development of the city's Office of Violence Prevention.

PND recently spoke with Katz about the summer of protests sparked by the death of George Floyd, what calls for defunding the police mean, and the role of philanthropy in driving change.

Headshot_walter_katzPhilanthropy News Digest: There have been a number of high-profile killings of unarmed African Americans by police officers over the last few years. What was different about George Floyd's death? And what do you make of the fact that protests across the nation sparked by his death were multi-racial and multi-generational?

Walter Katz: I think many people not involved in criminal justice reform had moved on from those earlier killings. There are so many other issues competing for our attention, from climate change, to political uncertainty, to the pandemic. But seeing video of that officer use his knee to choke the life out of George Floyd, with impunity and seemingly without any concern for George Floyd's humanity, really focused people on what is happening in this country. It was such a shocking thing that people across the country were forced to acknowledge that this kind of activity on the part of the police cannot be tolerated, that the reforms of the past several years have not had the anticipated effect, and that more urgent action is needed.

As for the protests, I think they're a reflection of the America in which we live. In the past, advocates and activists for change were maybe more siloed off into their own particular issues, but young people today are much more connected intersectionally. The connections between, say, housing policy and policing and underinvestment in communities of color are apparent and readily made; there's a broader understanding of how things connect to and influence each other.

Here at the foundation, we're encouraged by how well the public seems to understand the cross-cutting relationships between, say, police reform and public safety and what we need to do to reduce violent crime. And once you look at the connections between those kinds of issues, it immediately raises questions. How should we respond to people in real time who are in crisis? When someone calls 911 with a tip or problem, should the response always be to send a police officer to the scene? Might it be more effective, depending on the situation, to send a mental health worker or a social worker or a community intervention specialist? Does every single call to the police require an armed response? All of this calls for really thoughtful conversations and for good-faith efforts to dig into data about what works and what doesn't and seeing where that data leads us.

Our Data Driven Justice Project is expressly trying to ask those kinds of questions: What does an effective co-responder model look like? Law enforcement and other first-responders are sent to all sorts of calls, including people who are unhoused or people living with mental illness. First-responders, through no fault of their own, tend to only see the tip of the iceberg. Beneath the surface, however, the person may have a long history with a variety of social services. Being able to have that information is critical, and that requires that we break down silos — not only operational silos, but data silos. First-responders should have access to as much of the data that is out there as possible. Local governments may already have it, but it's often hidden away in a completely different data warehouse. The role of data in all this and how we help jurisdictions that are trying to make it more accessible is something the foundation is thinking carefully about.

PND: The signature demand of protests this summer was a call for the police to be "defunded." Is that something that could happen over the next couple of years?

WK: One of the challenges of the call to defund has been the lack of clarity as to what the term actually means. Some say "abolition" is the goal, but when asked what "abolition" means, some people will say "no police," while others will say "a transformation of public safety that's not necessarily exclusive to policing." The distinction depends on the messenger, and it's the cause of a lot of confusion. City councils that are grappling with these issues have been approving police budgets for years, and I'm concerned that some of the cuts we're hearing about are not being done with a lot of rigorous analysis. In the weeks after George Floyd's death, there was a sort of reflexive "respond in the moment" quality to some of the actions taken. But I believe the rhetoric around "defunding" will evolve into something more thoughtful with respect to what communities want, what they expect, and what the budgeting process should look like. I would say that, in general, we need to have better-informed policy making and budget making. Collective bargaining by our elected officials, for example, needs to be more transparent and we need more accountability from our law enforcement leadership.

PND:What else can policy makers do to make police departments more accountable to their communities?

WK: Elected officials need to be more engaged. They need to ask tougher questions of police departments about budgets and policies and union contracts, and tougher questions about legal settlements that are brought to city council for approval. I've had a lot of exposure to county boards and supervisors and city councils, and there's significant variation in the level of interest and engagement in those kinds of critical public policy issues. Our elected municipal leaders have to be just as accountable with respect to the current crisis as law enforcement officials. To those elected officials I would say, Get out and talk to people in the community. Get out and talk to street cops. Take a few ride-alongs and see for yourself what is going on in your community. I'm calling on politicians not only to be more engaged but to ask a lot of tough questions and to hold themselves, and their police departments, accountable.

PND:In the context of policing, what is qualified immunity? And are police unions a barrier to meaningful police reform?

WK: I'll give you the short answer: An officer is not liable for violating the civil rights of an individual when the court finds that the purported violation was not well-settled law. In essence, a qualified immunity hearing is a motion brought by a defendant officer in a civil rights action in federal court. And the defense is "the thing I'm accused of doing was either a) not a violation of civil rights, or b) even if it was, it was not well-settled law, so I, the officer, was not on proper notice that this would be a civil rights violation if I engaged in whatever conduct I'm accused of."

Traditionally, the qualified immunity decision by a judge would rest on that two-part formulation. But a lot of the courts have skipped to the second part — on whether or not it was well-settled law. The problem is that by ignoring the first part, the courts have not established good jurisprudence for the police as to what conduct is or is not constitutional. And that has become a grave difficulty for plaintiffs, who say there are plenty of cases where, for example, a police shooting has occurred at the end of a foot pursuit. We need to have clarity in cases like that, but instead the courts say, it's not well-settled law. Our argument is that the courts must provide guidance on what the law is. That is where some of the challenges have come from regarding qualified immunity.

With regard to the police unions, I would say that the academic evidence on their impact on reform is scanty. But the research published to date appears to demonstrate that collective bargaining leads to reduced accountability, more frequent use of force, and, from what I have heard about a soon-to-be published paper, more deadly force being brought to bear against Black people. All that is very concerning. When a union says it will fight a consent decree tooth and nail in court or mount an effort to recall a city council member — as a police union in Orange County, California, recently did successfully — I think the answer to your question is pretty clear: police unions are a barrier to policing reform. There are places where police unions have been partners in progress, but not nearly enough, and in general their focus is on pay and benefits and to make sure that the due process rights of their membership are protected.

PND: What is the role of philanthropy in this discussion? Can it actually do anything to move the needle on the reforms that African Americans and others around the country are demanding?

WK: In this moment, I think there are remarkable opportunities for philanthropy at all levels. Advocates and activists have been showing the way on reform for a number of years now, and philanthropy needs to follow. And as it supports calls for more accountability and transparency in policing — and criminal justice more generally — it should insist on having as much as information as it can about interventions and policies that work, and those that don't. It should insist on knowing as much as it can about various structural barriers to reform, about the impact of sunshine laws, about the so-called Law Enforcement Officers' Bills of Rights. Those are all things where we can help deepen the knowledge base, highlight what works, and support advocates pushing much-needed, thoughtful reform.

Matt Sinclair

The role of offline and online behavior in advancing social causes

October 15, 2020

In May, when George Floyd, a Black man, was killed while in police custody, igniting protests across the country decrying police brutality against African Americans, the research team I lead at Cause and Social Influence was already tracking the response of young Americans to COVID-19. As spring turned into summer and the two issues merged into a nationwide movement centered around demands for racial justice, our researchers were able to observe in real time the forces that motivated individuals, nonprofits, companies, and allied causes to take action.

Indeed, it was an unprecedented opportunity for us to study how online and offline behavior feed off each other to create and drive a movement. And while we aren't claiming to show definitively that one kind of activity led to another, we were able to identify a number of patterns and connections among certain kinds of online and offline actions.

Looking more closely at the response to the virus and the protests sparked by George Floyd’s death, we noticed some commonalities:

The power of corporate influence. Our research revealed that 80 percent of young Americans believe corporations can influence attitudes toward the virus through their actions*, while 75 percent believe they can have a "great deal" or "some" influence on mitigating racial inequality‡. As we were fielding our survey, for example, Nike’s "Play for the World" campaign was encouraging Americans to stay indoors and social distance; by the time Nike ended the campaign, it had generated 732,000 likes on Instagram and a total of about 900,000 social media engagements (Instagram, Twitter).

Lack of trust. Our research revealed that, in June, nearly 50 percent of young Americans thought President Trump was addressing racial issues "not well at all," with only 12 percent of respondents overall (and 16 percent of white respondents) saying he was handling the issue "moderately well." The same month, messages out of the White House or from Trump related to racial inequality or the pandemic were followed by spikes in social media activity*‡. An interview the president gave to FOX News' Chris Wallace that zeroed in on the administration’s response to COVID generated millions of tweets and retweets on Twitter. Tweets put out by the president calling an elderly protester "an antifa provocateur" generated a combined 531,000 responses; similarly, a Twitter announcement of a Trump campaign rally in Tulsa, the site of a notorious race riot in 1921, generated 3.6 million tweets.

Fig1.1_Trump Perf on Racial Issues

Our analysis also revealed some differences in activism around the two issues:

Social media played a larger role as an information source for racial justice activists than as a source of information about COVID-19. According to our research, young people initially relied on local government (37 percent) and family members (30 percent) for information on COVID-19*, while 76 percent said they turned to social media "often" as a source for news and information related to racial equity‡. At about the same time, the first week of June, the hashtags #BLM and #BlackLivesMatter generated more than 1 million tweets, while across all social media platforms hundreds of thousands of individuals shared updates containing references to Black Americans who had died in police custody.

Young Americans are more likely to turn to celebrities and online influencers for information about racial equity than for information about COVID-19. Our research revealed that in the first month of the pandemic, 40 percent of young Americans said they took some kind of action related to the pandemic because of something a celebrity or online influencer said or did, while in the  month following George Floyd's death, 52 percent of all respondents (and 58 percent of Black respondents) said they took action because of something a celebrity or online influencer said or did. In early June, a Black Lives Matter special featuring comedian Dave Chappelle garnered 22 million YouTube views. Later in June,  #ObamaDayJune14 generated more than 500,000 tweets, while a tweet by U.S. Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez stating that "The United States of America should not have secret police" generated nearly 500,000 likes and was the #3 trending tweet that day.

Different immediate responses. Our research also found that, initially, young people were inclined to shop locally as the best way to help out with the pandemic, and that only 25 percent said they were sharing COVID-19 information via their social media channels*. In the week after George Floyd's death, however, the top actions taken by young people in response to his death were posting on social media and signing petitions,‡ including 2 million social engagements featuring a #BLM or #BlackLivesMatter hashtag and 1.6 million using the hashtag #BlackoutTuesday.

Our conclusion: Social media tends to bring together both like-minded people and people with polarizing views across all types of divides — including income level, geography, age, education, work experience, etc. — for "conversations" that unfold in real time. The impacts of the COVID pandemic and calls for racial justice will continue to overlap in the lead up to the election in November; what happens after that is anyone's guess. But by examining offline actions and online engagements and conversations, we can begin to understand the interplay of dramatic events and social movements in real time and how each contributes to, and reinforces, action to advance a cause.

To see all the research and sources referenced in this article, visit: causeandsocialinfluence.com/ActionsAndOnlineDiscourse.

Headshot_derrick_feldmann_2015Derrick Feldmann (@derrickfeldmann) is the founder of the Millennial Impact Project, lead researcher at Cause and Social Influence, and the author of the new book, The Corporate Social Mind. Read more by Derrick here.

_______

* Influencing Young America to Act, Special COVID-19 Research Report - Spring 2020, causeandsocialinfluence.com/2020research.

Influencing Young America to Act, Special Report - June 2020, causeandsocialinfluence.com/2020research-june.

What’s at stake with Trump’s Supreme Court nominee: health care and civil rights

October 05, 2020

SCOTUS-ext-daySenate Republicans' rush to fill the vacant U.S. Supreme Court seat before the election is a terrible blow to Black people's civil rights and the health of our communities.
 
In her twenty-seven years on the Supreme Court, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a champion of civil rights. During those same years, Republican presidents and senators moved the court further and further from its duty to protect racial equity and the rights of working people.
 
During the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s, we counted on the U.S. Supreme Court to uphold the constitutional principle of equality under law. We have counted on federal courts to enforce the Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act, federal laws that finally put the force of law behind the idea that Black people are included in the U.S. Constitution's opening words, "We, the people..."
 
Today's Supreme Court, in contrast, is a far cry from the court that did away with legal segregation, a far cry from the court that upheld civil rights laws won with the blood, sweat, and tears of Black people and our allies in the struggle for equality.
 
Justice Ginsburg was often a key vote in 5-4 decisions that protected civil rights, and as the right solidified its power on the court, she was often a prophetic voice dissenting from abominations like the gutting of the Voting Rights Act in 2013.
 
As part of a political deal to help him win the White House, Donald Trump turned over selection of judges to a hard-right legal movement that wants to reverse many of the social justice gains of the past century.
 
Any Trump nominee would have been a threat to the causes for which Ginsburg devoted her life.
 
Judge Amy Coney Barrett believes Obamacare is unconstitutional, and there's a case coming before the Supreme Court just a week after the election that will give her and other right-wing justices a chance to undermine access to health care and legal protections for pre-existing conditions, right in the middle of a pandemic.
 
In a case that raises alarms about her commitment to racial equity, Coney Barrett voted to deny a hearing to a Black man who worked for a company that assigned staff to different stores based on their race.
 
If she is confirmed, our ability to count on federal courts to protect our rights will be diminished further. Yet just a month before Election Day, with many Americans already voting, this is a top priority for Senate Republicans.
 
Here’s what Senate Republicans aren't doing while they confirm every judicial appointee, no matter how extreme or unqualified, President Trump sends their way:
 
Dealing with the COVID crisis that is killing Black and brown people at a far higher rate than white people — or providing sufficient relief for working people thrown into dire economic straits by the pandemic.
 
Taking up the John Lewis Voting Rights Act, which would bring back federal protections for voting rights that were once embraced by politicians from both parties.
 
Acting on the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act, which would bring greater accountability to law enforcement and protect people of color from racist and discriminatory policing.
 
The push by Trump and Senate Republicans to shift the Supreme Court to the right while ignoring the urgent needs of our community and our demands for justice is the ultimate evidence of how important this election is to America, especially to Black America.
 
Do not sit this one out. Get registered. Make a plan to vote. And vote like your life depends on it.
 
Headshot_Ben_Jealous-PFAWBen Jealous is president of People For the American Way and the People For the American Way Foundation. A graduate of Columbia University and Oxford, where he was a Rhodes Scholar, Jealous became the youngest-ever president and CEO of the NAACP  in 2008. 

[Review] Five Days: The Fiery Reckoning of an American City

September 23, 2020

Cover_five_daysFive years ago, antipoverty activist and nonprofit CEO Wes Moore found himself in Baltimore for the funeral of Freddie Gray, a young man from the "wrong side" of the city who had made eye contact with a Baltimore police officer on a bicycle and decided to run. The officer gave chase and, with two other officers, eventually caught Gray, searched him, and found a pocketknife in one of his pockets. The officers arrested Gray and, as Moore writes in the Prologue to his new book, Five Days: The Fiery Reckoning of an American City, "when he couldn't, or wouldn't walk, to their transport van, they dragged him along the sidewalk. What happened next was a matter of dispute, but when Freddie Gray died a week later, from a severed spine, much of Baltimore believed the police had killed him."

The day of Gray's funeral, thousands of people converged on New Shiloh Baptist Church, which Moore had attended while he was a student at Johns Hopkins University. Filing into pews in T-shirts and mourning black were men and women, rich and poor, young and old, and a who's who of Baltimore's political class. But the funeral of Freddie Gray was no celebratory homecoming for Moore, who couldn’t shake the feeling as he sat among the mourners that but for a few lucky breaks and a mother who wouldn’t take no for an answer, his road through life could’ve been much like the one traveled by Gray: born addicted to heroin, exposed to harmful concentrations of lead in public housing as a child, and, before his last encounter, involved in multiple altercations with the police. Reflecting on that day later, Moore was overwhelmed by frustration and a feeling of "intolerance for the system that had ended a young man's life."

Established in opposition to unaccountable authority, the United States is a country with protest and dissent embedded in its DNA. From the Boston Tea Party to the civil rights movement, Americans have been a people willing to fight for their rights — and to extend those rights beyond just white men of property. And yet progress toward a more perfect union often has been elusive and insufficient. There is no formula for how to create real social change, no model for how to mobilize the support needed to cause people to sit up and pay attention. The killing of George Floyd by Minneapolis police sparked protests and outrage around the globe — and caught many by surprise. There are many theories as to why Floyd's death was such a catalyst: the slow economic recovery from the Great Recession and the growing wealth inequality it spawned, the disproportionate burden of COVID-19 on BIPOC individuals more likely to work in high-risk jobs deemed essential, and, thanks to COVID-related shelter-in-place orders, a global community on pause from the day-to-day noise of life and more willing to pay attention to suffering and injustice. Although not written in response to COVID-19 or the killing of Floyd, Moore’s timely account asks us to consider as well the burdens that systemic racism and income inequality place on people of color and goes a step further, asking the reader to think about how we are all connected to each other.

Written with New York Times journalist Erica L. Green, Five Days is structured as a series of vignettes based on the lived reality of eight Baltimoreans in April 2015. Three, of them — Tawanda, Anthony, and Greg — are African American and found themselves on the front lines of the civil unrest that followed Gray’s death. John Angelos, executive vice president of Major League Baseball’s Baltimore Orioles franchise, was pulled into Gray's story in a way that forced him to face his own white privilege and power. And the others — Nick, Jenny, Marc, and Billy — function as representatives of a system forced to answer for the death, under questionable circumstances, of another young Black man. Moore himself, a native of Baltimore who was raised by his mother and grandparents and later graduated from Yale, personifies the struggle to rise above the systemic racism that traps so many people in lives of desperation, even as he makes a point of not minimizing the experiences lived by his book's Black protagonists, writing that the "sound of a siren strikes a different pitch depending on which neighborhood hears it." To read Five Days is to begin to know their stories — and, without necessarily becoming familiar with the specifics, to understand how a collective tragedy can bring people together. And yet… In the weeks and months after Gray's death, all the people whose stories Moore recounts did what they could to prevent what happened to Freddie Gray from happening elsewhere — with decidedly mixed results.

Beyond the stories of the eight individuals Moore and Green recount, Five Days is a conversation about how American society treats its economically vulnerable. When poverty is treated as something that Americans raised on the myth of "equal opportunity for all" fall into because of their own missteps and/or not trying hard enough, the conversation becomes about who deserves, or doesn't, assistance, rather than what can be done to create mechanisms and opportunities that actually lift people out of poverty. But with the 2019 Poverty and Inequality Report from the Stanford Center on Poverty and Inequality suggesting that millennials could be the first American generation to experience as much downward as upward mobility, fully 49 percent of Americans born in the late 1980s ending up in a lower-paying job than those held by their parents, and poverty itself becoming all-too easy to correlate with ZIP code, race, and educational level, America has a problem; indeed, that is the core message of the book.

The kaleidoscopic structure of Five Days interlaces stories of loss and humanity with anecdotes from the social sector and a conversation about the limits of philanthropy. Moore, the CEO of Robin Hood, a New York City-based anti-poverty nonprofit that works with more than two hundred and fifty nonprofit partners to provide food, housing, education, legal, and workforce development programs and services to New Yorkers living in poverty, notes that nearly $700 billion is given to charitable and philanthropic causes every year. Take out endowment and capital gifts to private foundations, hospitals, and institutions of higher education, and about $175 billion is left to address every social (and environmental) issue under the sun. Philanthropy can be a powerful vehicle for driving change and doing good, and we should not underestimate its potential to do so. But if we fail to acknowledge the performative nature of much of the philanthropy one sees in the United States and the fact that philanthropy, both individual and institutional, all too often perpetuates negative power dynamics that impede rather than advance well-intentioned efforts, we will never see the kind of systemic change America needs.

In closing, Moore tries to give voice to a protagonist we never hear from in the book: Freddie Gray. "Loving your country means fighting for the institutionalization of its core goodness," he writes. "Loving your country does not mean lying about its past." For this reader, Moore's narrative demands we not lie about its present, either. Wealth inequality and lack of opportunity are not an abstractions; wealth inequality and lack of opportunity are five days in Baltimore where the frenetic actions of protestors, police, and politicians were galvanized by the death of a young man whose tragic end was inextricably linked to his ZIP code and our collective acquiescence in vilifying those deemed to be "undeserving" of help.

Headshot_Emilia CharnoEmilia Charno, a former intern with the Global Partnerships team at Candid, is studying for a BA in International Relations and Spanish at Tufts University.    

[Review] The Uninhabitable Earth: A Story of the Future

September 16, 2020

23499-The-Uninhabitable-Earth_David-Wallace-Wells-1Published in February, before the COVID-19 pandemic and national protests sparked by the killing of George Floyd grabbed the world's attention, The Uninhabitable Earth: Life After Warming by David Wallace-Wells provides an utterly disturbing picture of the many ways in which global warming will transform every aspect of life on the planet — changes, according to Wallace-Wells, likely to lead to untold human suffering and quite possibly the extinction of our species. As he frames what follows in the first line of the book, "it is worse, much worse, than you think."

A deputy editor at New York, Wallace-Wells first came to the attention of the public three years ago with an article in that publication about the perils of climate change. In it, he outlined some of the repercussions we are likely to face if we fail to take meaningful action to slow global warming, and his book expands on that warning. Or, as he puts it, the book is not "about the science of warming; it is about what warming means to the way we live on this planet."

The many examples he marshals in support of that statement are grim and left this reader with a sinking feeling that has been hard to shake. As Wallace-Wells writes, efforts to hold the average global temperature below 2°C above pre-industrial levels already seem doomed, and for every half degree of warming societies will experience a 10 percent to 20 percent increase in the likelihood of armed conflict. By 2050, the global production of fossil fuel-based plastic is expected to triple, and it is possible there will be more plastic than fish in our oceans. With a 2.5°C increase in warming, the planet may experience a global food deficit. In the American West, wildfires will consume sixteen times more acreage than they do today. With a 4°C increase, hundreds of cities will be inundated by sea-level rise, and in many others venturing out of doors will be life-threatening. An additional 200 million people will become climate refugees.

But Wallace-Wells doesn't confine himself to the familiar dangers of rising sea levels, ocean acidification, or furnace-like temperatures rendering mega-cities uninhabitable. As an environmental studies major, I have read about the likelihood of an increase in interpersonal conflict and domestic violence due to increasing temperatures, but I hadn't heard about the unpredictable ways in which gut microbiota may react to a warming planet. Wallace-Wells describes unknowns like these as "elements of chaos," and warns that no single one, but rather many in combination, are what is likely to bring about our demise.

There is little to take comfort from in the book, and that's intentional. Just four years ago, the Paris climate agreement committed the global community to keeping global temperature rise below 2°C above pre-industrial levels and to pursuing efforts to limit it to 1.5°C. (The United States pulled out of the agreement after Donald Trump's election.) Tragically, the former worst-case scenario now looks like an improbable best-case outcome, with some climate experts predicting four degrees of warming by 2100. Because such numbers are small and an abstraction for most people, we tend to seek reassurance and comfort by trivializing the difference between them. But as noted above, Wallace-Wells makes sure his readers comprehend how catastrophic the consequences of one extra degree of warming are likely to be. And when we start to contemplate the now worst-case outcome of six to eight degrees of warming, the level of uncertainty — and catastrophe — can barely be comprehended.

If there's a silver lining in the book it is that Wallace-Wells does not want to shock his readers into paralysis: "I am optimistic," he writes. "I know there are horrors to come….But those horrors are not yet scripted." In other words, the future is editable, and it's up to each of us to decide how much worse — or better — it will be. Indeed, dozens of solutions to global warming have been proposed and the technologies to implement them exist. So why hasn't the global community been able to come together and move them forward?

From normalization of the risks (think frog in a pot of water) to fear of the unknown, Wallace-Wells outlines many possible reasons as to why we have settled into uneasy complacency. And yet, he remains optimistic, writing in closing, "if there is to be any chance of preserving even the hope for that happier future…[c]all me crazy, or better yet naive, but I still think we can."

Though the sentiment is meant to leave the reader feeling she can make a difference, it doesn't do much to erase the existential dread that permeates the book. Yes, we want to be optimistic, but that dread keeps tugging at us, sapping our energy and resolve. Wallace-Wells implores us to snap out of it. As yet another record-setting wildfire season in the American West makes all too clear, we need to lean into that dread and ramp up our sense of urgency, not to mention agency, with respect to global warming. Educating ourselves about the challenge is a great way to start and sharing what we learn with others is a critical next step. Climate change is everyone's problem, in that almost everyone will be impacted. As he writes, "there is no single way to best tell the story of climate change….Any story that sticks is a good one."

Wallace-Wells has written a pretty powerful one.

Headshot_issy_nesciIzzy Nesci, a former intern in the Insights department at Candid, is an environmental studies major at Bucknell University.   

Report or vote? Young BIPOC journalists can (and should) do both

August 04, 2020

18-29-Now_social_staticYears ago, when I was a reporter for a well-known daily, a colleague of mine noticed my "I Voted" sticker.

"You vote?" she asked, adding that she had not voted since starting her journalism career. "Aren't you afraid that if anyone digs into your voting record you'll seem…biased?"

I looked at her — a white woman in her early twenties — uncomprehendingly. She might as well have expressed surprise that I ate, drank, and showered on a daily basis.

I explained to her that my great-grandmother, Mildred "Belle" Cosey, was an unsung civil rights hero from Mississippi who marched with the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., participated in the Freedom Rides, and taught other Black people in her community how to vote. In the 1960s, the hard-nosed, eloquent, and impeccably fashionable woman I knew as "Greatmama" hosted Poor People's Club gatherings in her home and not only instructed her neighbors on the basics of the electoral process but escorted her "students" to the polls, where, fearful that their white employers would see and fire them, she would hold their trembling hands.

A generation on, her granddaughter (my mother) was forced to sit in the "colored" balcony of the local movie theater. In her late teens, having inherited her grandmother's penchant for eye-catching attire, my mom, on a visit to an exclusive department store in Jackson, Mississippi, was discouraged from trying on any clothes. It was well known in the community and confirmed for her by a salesperson that any item of clothing worn by a Black person, even briefly, would have to be discarded so as not to upset the store's white clientele.

Blackness isn’t something that anyone in my generation, my mother's generation, or her mother's mother’s generation (and those who preceded them) has ever been allowed to forget. The same is true on my Alabama-born father's side.

As I watch a new generation take up the fight in the seemingly endless war against racism in America, I am also fully aware that my identity as a Black person is intrinsic to my being and affects every aspect of my life in America.

It's why I'm proud to be leading YR Media, a nonprofit that has spent more than twenty-five years educating, employing, and amplifying the work of young Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) journalists, many of whom hail from underrepresented communities across the nation. The journalists we support unapologetically embrace all aspects of their identity and incorporate that perspective into their work. Indeed, in our latest collaboration with WNYC’s Radio Rookies project, YR Media contributors under the age of 30 are covering issues of critical importance to them through the lens of the upcoming election.

Who are we to ask them to sit idle this November?

The content creators behind the "18-to-29 Now: Young America Speaks Up" initiative include young "Dreamers" whose legal status hinges on what happens in the next presidential election. Some of them are college students struggling with food and housing issues who worry how they'll get through the next semester — or whether there will even be a next semester. There are other young adults in swing states wondering whether, because of the pandemic or voter suppression tactics, they'll have the opportunity to make their voices heard at the ballot box. And there are young people dealing with chronic health challenges who want to know what is going to happen with the Affordable Care Act.

"This coming election means more to people than taxes and border security," says contributor Erianna Jiles, who lives in the Twin Cities area, where George Floyd drew his last breath with a police officer's knee on his neck. "Young people want to know if they’re going to survive."

Most, if not all, of these young people want to realize the American dream, be included in the political conversation, and advance the causes that are important to their future. And they have every reason to believe their vote is important. A recent analysis by CIRCLE outlined how young people of color can shape and possibly decide the outcome of many federal, state, and local elections this year.

As the contributors to the "18-to-29 Now" project make clear, those of voting age cannot afford to be apathetic. First-time voter Madison Hall, who lives in Baltimore, Maryland, breaks it down like this: "This election means I can vote for the first time; it's my opportunity to do more than repost a picture on Instagram. With everything that happened this year, it's still daunting to think this could be the year I actually have a say in some of the issues I'm passionate about."

Our storytellers always look at what's behind and beyond the hashtag and work hard to report on systemic transformation. The fact that they are also eager to vote on Election Day gives me hope and brings me back to that moment many years ago when I was challenged to make a choice between being a journalist or being a Black citizen of the United States.

For me, the decision was easy. I kept on collecting my "I Voted" stickers and plan to do so again in November. I invite young content creators to do the same.

Headshot_Kyra KylesKyra Kyles is the CEO of YR Media, an Oakland-based nonprofit that works to educate, employ, and amplify the voices of a diverse group of young content creators in the Bay Area and beyond. A longtime media executive who has served as editor-in-chief at EBONY, Kyles has written for and made on-air contributions to outlets such as CNN, Bustle, Zora by Medium, the BBC, and NPR.

Uplifting the LGBTQ+ community in the nonprofit sector

June 30, 2020

Pexels-photo-4658052The LGBTQ+ community has had a lot to celebrate during Pride Month. On June 15, in a 6-3 decision, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the 1964 Civil Rights Act protects gay, lesbian, and transgender employees from job discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or transgender status.

According to the Chronicle of Philanthropy, nearly one in five nonprofit employees who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or "queer" report that their sexual orientation has had at least a "slightly negative" impact on their career. Thanks to the court's ruling, however, the future looks brighter.

Pride Month is a celebration of LGBTQ+ equality and achievement, but this year, especially, we are reminded that social progress is driven by the passion, commitment, and hard work of thousands upon thousands of ordinary people over time. As our month-long celebration comes to a close, let's remember the actions and courage of the activists who laid the groundwork for the recent Supreme Court decision — and for those who even now are peacefully demanding an end to systemic racism and police brutality against Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) — and show our support for LGBTQ+ equality, racial and gender justice, and an America where all people, regardless of skin color or sexual orientation, can realize their full potential.

Not sure how to start? Here a few ideas:

Strive to incorporate the values of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) into your nonprofit's operations, and commit to adopting diverse and equitable hiring practices. Obviously, this will be more of a challenge if you aren't a member of the leadership team at your organization or working in a human resources (HR) capacity, but you can and should raise the issue of DEI with your nonprofit's HR department if you feel the organization isn't paying sufficient attention to it. Because LGBTQ+ people have long faced barriers to advancement in the nonprofit sector (as well as other industries), investments in DEI also represent an investment in LGBTQ+ people. And while it's important that nonprofits invest in more equitable and inclusive hiring practices, they should also mandate unconscious bias training for all employees, current and future. Such training helps people identify the implicit biases they may have and act on in their own lives and better position them to address those biases. For example, hiring managers should be encouraged to look for potential candidates outside of their usual networks and can use diversity job boards to do so. For additional DEI tips and advice, Candid's GrantSpace portal is a great place to start and is also an excellent source for LGBTQ+ specific resources.

Support nonprofits already working in the LGBTQ+ space. Even if you're not working at a nonprofit that directly supports the LGBTQ+ community, it doesn't mean you can't have an impact. The end of another Pride Month is the ideal time to step up and support organizations working to promote and uphold LGBTQ+ equality and rights. Know, too, that there isn't one, right way to stand with the LGBTQ+ community. Instead, feel free to participate in virtual Pride events, sign petitions, advocate for LGBTQ+ equality, and donate what you can to charities that champion LGBTQ+ causes. And while you're at it, do what you can to support one of the many nonprofits working to advance the Black Lives Matter movement.

Actively seek out and engage with your professional LGTBG+ peers. Reaching out to and engaging with your LGTBQ+ colleagues can be more helpful than you might imagine, and, besides, it's just a good inclusive practice. The LGBTQ+ community has a long history of trauma and feeling invisible, and as a result LGBTQ+ people (as well as other members of traditionally underrepresented communities) often lack the confidence to publicly express their opinions or feel excluded from important conversations. One way to ensure that all voices in your organization are heard is to actively seek out those voices and include them — and that's especially important if you're in a position of privilege or power. You can do this by individually connecting with different colleagues, and, if you often have the spotlight in meetings, by inviting colleagues who may be reluctant to have their voices heard to contribute their thoughts.

Actively use preferred pronouns in the workplace. Using pronouns (i.e., "she/her/hers," "he/him/his," and "they/them/theirs") that people have chosen for themselves is a sign of respect and an important acknowledgement that you see them for who they are. You and your organization can also encourage their use by including them in email signatures, bios, and name tags. If your organization doesn't already do this, raise the practice with your HR department. It may also be helpful for HR to conduct a training for staff before rolling out a new pronoun policy so that staff understands the rationale for the policy and how pronouns should be used.

Create special interest groups that make it easier for LGBTQ+ people in your organization to connect with one another. At Candid, we have various virtual spaces where staff members belonging to different communities can connect. I personally love the fact that there are different outlets where I and others can express our true, authentic selves. It can be difficult for members of the LGBTQ+ community (and other marginalized groups) to feel comfortable enough to bring their authentic selves into their place of work, so employers should do what they can to make it easier for them to do so and create safe spaces for different communities within their organizations.

Learn, and keep learning. Educate yourself about different aspects of the LGBTQ+ community, including the history of Pride Month and milestones in the fight for LGBTQ+ rights. In light of the Black Lives Matter protests, I also urge you to learn about what's happening with the Black LGBTQ+ community. As one activist highlighted in a recent USA Today article that looked at how members of the LGBTQ+ community in Kentucky have stepped up as leaders of the Black Lives Matter movement says: "Pride isn't canceled. It's evolved." It's a statement that rings true for me for two reasons. First, the feel of this year's Pride Month has been different because of COVID-19, with many in-person events cancelled or transitioned to an online format. And two, the focus of many Pride events has shifted to the struggle for racial justice and equity. It's been a huge epiphany for the LGBTQ+ community and Pride, as some of us learn for the first time (and others remember) just how important the civil rights movement and Black activists have been to the struggles of LGBTQ+ community. Pride Month would never have come about without Black LGBTQ+ activists such as Bayard Rustin, Stormé DeLarverie, Audre Lorde, and Marsha P. Johnson. Now it's your turn: here are a few ways you can be an active ally to the Black LGBTQ+ community in the months and years to come.

I do believe our sector has made commendable strides in advancing DEI, but there's still progress to be made with respect to the LGBTQ+ community (and other underrepresented groups). Before I sign off, I want to highlight two groups doing great work in this space. Recent research by the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy (NCRP) makes a strong case that foundations need to increase their funding for marginalized communities, as well as social, racial, and economic justice work. And in terms of the LGBTQ+ community specifically, Funders for LGBTQ Issues works to increase the scope and impact of philanthropic resources benefiting the LGBTQ+ community. I encourage LGBTQ+ nonprofit professionals to check out the group's website, which includes a lot of LGBTQ+ focused research, jobs, and funding opportunities.

As we bring down the curtain on another Pride Month, remember: No one is really and truly free until everyone is free, and the impact of Pride shouldn't be restricted to just one month. You should strive to uplift the voices of the LGBTQ+ community, and of other marginalized groups, throughout the year.

VVoPham HeadshotViet "Vee" VoPham (he/him/his) is the marketing specialist for the Networks division at Candid. You can follow him on Twitter at @VVoPham.

We need more than COVID charity; it’s time for systems change

June 16, 2020

Land-grant-university-racial-equityToo many people in our home state of North Carolina are struggling to survive as COVID-19 wreaks havoc on their health, financial stability, schools, and communities. As the pandemic rages on, we also see thousands of residents protesting George Floyd’s murder and the injustices and racism that have permeated all aspects of our society for far too long. Charity is not enough to make a long-term difference.

We must begin laying the groundwork for what comes after this uncertain moment. We have the opportunity to reinvent what we want our state to look like and reform the systems that have failed many of our most vulnerable residents — communities of color, rural residents, elders, children, and families with low incomes.

Like many foundations in our state and around the country, The Duke Endowment and the Kate B. Reynolds Charitable Trust moved quickly in the early months of the public health crisis and released millions of dollars to address urgent needs in the state, including food scarcity, housing insecurity, and inadequate healthcare supplies.

No matter how quickly we move, however, COVID-19 and the nationwide protests spotlight have amplified inequities that existed long before today.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, people of color are disproportionately impacted by this virus. They’re more likely to be hospitalized or die from the disease. Latinos are almost three times as likely to be uninsured; African Americans are twice as likely to lack insurance.

We also have learned that many residents with lower incomes are essential — risking their lives so that others can ride the bus, buy groceries, or visit the doctor. A lack of access to affordable housing, reliable transportation, and personal protective equipment puts vulnerable residents in jeopardy.

As philanthropic leaders, we are calling on other foundations, government, and business leaders to think about how we, collectively, can change the path forward.

The public and private sectors came together to respond to urgent needs by investing millions when the COVID-19 crisis hit. If we continue to work together, we can make systemic changes that will help our state thrive well beyond this moment.

What might such a shift look like?

In North Carolina, all residents would have access to quality, affordable health insurance and care — during this health crisis and over the long-term. Residents in rural communities would be able to visit healthcare clinics that offer high-quality primary care and seamless connections, via telehealth, to regional medical centers. Children would have access to and thrive in quality early-childhood programs, where teachers are supported and appropriately compensated. Law enforcement policies that negatively impact communities of color would change.

How can we, collectively, make this happen? We — government, nonprofits, foundations, and businesses — must each do our part to ensure coordinated access to health care and mental health services. We must address the factors outside of medicine that impact health by investing in affordable housing, transportation, economic supports, and access to healthy food. We must increase access to technology and high-speed Internet so students and families can stay connected in a time when virtual learning is imperative. We must invest in innovation centers as our state transitions to value-based care to ensure that this new model of care, one that encourages providers to treat the whole person, produces equitable health outcomes for all. And we must strengthen our state’s public health system so that local communities are better prepared to address the next health crisis head on. These are just a few ideas; working together with our communities, we will develop more.

If we don’t seize this moment, we will end up revisiting these issues — entrenched poverty, systemic racial bias, high uninsured rates, children left behind in school, a shaky public health system — over and over again.

While we can’t literally join hands as we are social distancing, we can unite for change. Philanthropy and business can incubate and pilot innovative ideas and approaches, and our local, state and federal governments can bring those successful ideas and innovations to scale.

Will this take a significant investment of time and resources and a commitment to include all voices in the solutions? Absolutely. But experience shows that we can tackle difficult problems together. The moment to do so is now. COVID-19 and residents marching in the streets have taught us that the stakes of inaction and disinvestment are high.

By investing in bold ways to help our most vulnerable communities, we have an opportunity to build a future where we are stronger than we were before, with an equitable system that supports all residents.

Headshot_comp_Laura_Gerald_Rhett_Mabry_PhilanTopicDr. Laura Gerald is president of the Kate B. Reynolds Charitable Trust in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, and Rhett Mabry is president of the Charlotte-based Duke Endowment.

Quote of the Week

  • "[L]et me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is...fear itself — nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance...."


    — Franklin D. Roosevelt, 32nd president of the United States

Subscribe to PhilanTopic

Contributors

Guest Contributors

  • Laura Cronin
  • Derrick Feldmann
  • Thaler Pekar
  • Kathryn Pyle
  • Nick Scott
  • Allison Shirk

Tweets from @PNDBLOG

Follow us »

Filter posts

Select
Select
Select