In
response to all our recent problems snowballing into a (non-melting)
glacier-sized multi-issue crisis, some foundations have seemingly
started to focus more on grassroots social change work. For instance,
their websites often claim to fund only change efforts led by the
same marginalized people whom those efforts will benefit. These
claims are accompanied by the requisite photos of determined
protesters, with their signs and bullhorns and identical T-shirts,
mid-chant. Also on their websites are pledges of solidarity with
those who are marginalized: “Our theory of change calls for social
justice achieved and scaled through the leadership of marginalized
communities whose work centers the intersectionality of ...”.
This
sounds like encouraging news for grassroots nonprofits – you know,
the community center founded and operated by East African immigrants
and refugees (I/R) to serve local East African immigrants and
refugees...the local social service agency for local battered women
whose board and staff are predominantly domestic violence
survivors...
But
is it? Maybe these foundations have changed their websites to include
photos of women wearing hijabs, showcase their staff diversity, or
outline their new-and-improved theory of change (social change is
best led by the marginalized communities whom it will benefit).
Nevertheless, many foundation practices and policies that shortchange
grassroots organizations are still very much in place.
One
of the most troubling is the increasingly popular
Don’t-Call-Us-We’ll-Call-You (DCUWCU) funding approach, often
explained like this: “Because our staff capacity is limited, we
cannot accept unsolicited applications.” This statement, which
conjures up images of a dingy, windowless office and a few frazzled
staff duct-taping the crack in the mimeograph machine, is especially
rich when the very same foundation’s tax return shows 50 million
dollars in assets. Another popular explanation for the DCUWCU
approach is that the funder is focused on a very few issues (it has
identified The Problem) that it wants to address in a very specific
ways (it has The Solution); so in the interest of responsibly
stewarding foundation and applicant resources, applicants need not
apply unless invited.
DCUWCU
is problematic for several reasons.
First,
it strands most nonprofits in a “maybe we can get on the
foundation’s radar” limbo, futilely looking for mutual contacts,
subscribing the foundation to their e-newsletter, inviting foundation
staff to annual meetings, and so on. In implementing DCUWCU, the
funder is transferring the cost of establishing a relationship with
would-be applicants to would-be-applicants – many of which don’t
have a Mr. Coffee, never mind 50 million dollars in assets. In my
experience, the organizations that somehow do get on the funder’s
radar are typically better resourced, have more connections and more
name recognition than the others. So the grassroots organizations
that most need funding to stay afloat are least likely to get it,
regardless of the quality of their proposals and their
qualifications.
Second,
DCUWCU says, “You [the applicant] are qualified to lead social
change efforts affecting your community only if your priority issue
and corresponding fix conform to our predetermined expectations.”
So much for solidarity with marginalized people leading their own
struggles for justice.
Third,
this practice limits the public dialogue about what needs fixing and
how to do it to only a small minority of the public. What kind of
theory of social change, especially in the midst of so much economic
inequality, endorses this kind of financial elitism?
To
the social change funder who may be reading this: Put your money
where your mouth is. Otherwise your giving becomes another example of
the kind of philanthropy known as "people of privilege telling
the rest of us what our problem is and what to do about it."
