This post was originally published on March 23, 2021.

Using an intersectional frame, last week’s horrific killing of eight people, six of whom were Asian women, can be viewed as the tragic manifestation of the misogyny, racism and white supremacy embedded in the fabric of American culture and society – the same culture that generously described the white gunman’s actions as the result of “a bad day” and his being “fed up.” In America, the crimes of a white male domestic terrorist can be casually regarded with greater humanity than the lives or deaths of those he murdered.

Anti-Asian racism is as American as apple pie. Chinese workers who built the transcontinental railroad in the 19th century were prevented from marrying due to anti-miscegenation laws, then the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 prohibited all immigration of Chinese laborers. The fetishization of Asian and Asian-American women as hypersexualized goes back centuries, from the Page Act of 1875, which barred Asian women from immigrating under the pretense that they were prostitutes, to the exotic and submissive stereotypes of Asian women that can be traced to the US’ imperialist occupation of Asian countries during periods of war (from the Philippines to Korea and Vietnam). And, of the nearly 3,800 anti-Asian hate incidents outlined in Stop AAPI Hate’s National Report, attacks against Asian women made up a disproportionate 68% of those committed since the pandemic began.

This latest tragedy demands that we redouble our commitment to dismantling white supremacy, and to standing in solidarity with our sisters and brothers of Asian-American, Asian, South Asian, and Pacific Islander descent. Our shared humanity and collective liberation require it.

Allyship Resources

Bystander Intervention Training to Prevent Anti-Asian Harassment:

https://righttobe.org/bystander-intervention-training/

How to be an ally and help Asian-Americans fight Anti-Asian racism:

https://www.instagram.com/p/CLM8YSABOnd/?igshid=tjfig3jf9c8c

Resources to Support AAPI Communities

Georgia’s Asian American Leaders Call for Community-Centered Response After Six Asian Women are Murdered:

https://www.advancingjustice-atlanta.org/news/communityresponse

Red Canary Song resources to support families of Atlanta victims:

https://www.redcanarysong.net/atlanta 

Defending Asian women, defending sex workers (Resource List):

http://bcrw.barnard.edu/defending-asian-women-defending-sex-workers/

How to support the AAPI community in a time of hate and violence: A Resource List:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1mjyQokYMdckjc03VW5zFskUfTBAXR_palrs5SjIaL7c/edit?fbclid=IwAR2qnuiGqE7NUl30xQzwZAF4hDxsh2MW1Z6kjyJ-_u1q0rWmiZYeQlaHmQ8#heading=h.f3v4a1nykw59

Resources and statements from Asian American Leaders Table (In support of Atlanta-based Asian organizations):

https://www.notion.so/Asian-American-Leaders-Table-b7c8891aae7b4f438521f6c3d0cbc1ff

Mutual Aid (New York):

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSf1XkhUBCecC3jJHDPl7Jr89ZwD50rwNqU73WOERiqRqd6E8w/viewform

Additional Resources

Long History of Racism Against Asian Americans:

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/nation/the-long-history-of-racism-against-asian-americans-in-the-u-s?fbclid=IwAR2pklNpn9SyBcaSAxlJe78iwGyOZXlyO88I4D7ycdBt5dkKh0nTx11Cxxs

How Racism and Sexism Intertwine to Torment Asian-American Women:

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/18/us/racism-sexism-atlanta-spa-shooting.html?referringSource=articleShare&fbclid=IwAR1ysnb8p6C22pPplXWthfER4ARyGHTfC9O0aI500BxGs_WTUXzcpTxsYCo

Asian American Women Are Resilient — and We Are Not OK:

https://mytamn.medium.com/asian-american-women-are-resilient-and-we-are-not-ok-e7658f4e32a

Working for Equity and Social Justice? Know What Your Asian Colleague is Experiencing:

https://fakequity.com/2021/02/25/working-for-equity-and-social-justice-know-what-your-asian-colleague-is-experiencing/?fbclid=IwAR0HLsGRFq1yKh6ZvHIcMjB_L9S6cy9DTwWK_1UqQFKAemX70zQBblrzgvM

Critical Race Theory is not Anti-Asian:

http://reappropriate.co/2021/03/mari-matsuda-critical-race-theory-is-not-anti-asian/

It’s Time for Philanthropy to Address Its Erasure of AAPI Voices and Perspectives:

https://cep.org/its-time-for-philanthropy-to-address-its-erasure-of-aapi-voices-and-perspectives/

Kimberlé Crenshaw and The African American Policy Forum’s Statement on Anti-Asian Attacks:

https://www.aapf.org/post/aapf-statement-on-anti-asian-attacks

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So You Want to Be a White Ally: Healing from white supremacy

By: Caitlin Duffy

White people aren’t inherently bad or broken. We are humans, born into and conditioned by a toxic culture of whiteness.

I am a person underneath my ancestors’ assimilation and my social inheritance of this culture in the U.S., including the biases it seeds in me, the privileges it affords me, the realities it numbs me from, and the history and lineages it obscures.

This has been a simple but profound reckoning for me as an aspiring white “ally,” especially since I’ve spent most of my life wanting little to do with people like me or my family.

I’m a descendant of Irish, German, and Polish immigrants with deep roots in New Jersey, some going back to the 1600s. My family has next-to-no remnants of the identities and cultures that my ancestors brought from Europe. Michael Eric Dyson, a Black professor of sociology and former pastor, describes the intergenerational process of (white) Americanization as a dramatic makeover, “breaking down, or at least to a degree, breaking up ethnicity and then building up an identity that was cut off from the old tongue and connected to the new land.” This process has isolated my family in many ways.

I grew up in a rural area and small town where 90 percent of the population was white. My first significant engagement with a community of color was through elementary school friends who had immigrated from Costa Rica. Growing up together, I was fascinated by their strong community ties and the collective sense of self expressed and reinforced through their ethnicity, faith, and rich cultural traditions such as food, music, and dance. Looking back, I realize that they represented what my soul craved, but had not experienced, through white culture.

This has become clearer to me over the past 10 years, as I’ve sought out opportunities to learn about race and racism in my academic and personal life, and about diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) in my work in philanthropy.

I’ve met hundreds of white peers in the nonprofit sector. We try to understand the harshness of our country’s legacy of racial terrorism, and the ways it still manifests today. We work to unpack our unconscious biases, and change our behavior to minimize harm to people of color around us. We read articles and participate in book clubs. We attend trainings and pack conference sessions dedicated to DEI, courageous conversations, and power dynamics. Many of us have been fortunate to benefit from the life experiences and teachings of incredible leaders of color like Lori Villarosa, Allen Kwabena Frimpong, Kerrien Suarez, Jara Dean-Coffey, Desiree Adaway, Angela Park, Keecha Harris, Bina Patel, and Vu Le.

In our learning about the extreme harm that white supremacy enacts on Black and Brown bodies, it can be easy to get stuck in guilt and shame about whiteness. These emotions can be leveraged for important action, though I don’t believe it serves us or others to stay in them, especially when heeding important calls to “collect” and “call in” white friends, family members, and colleagues.

Jardana Peacock, a white spiritual teacher and student of antiracist activist Anne Braden, says she was “the girl always calling out other white people, the voice of truth and accountability,” yet she was “pushing most all of the white people away, except those more radical than myself.”

This was very much my experience, especially because I was angry.

Angry because my good intent wasn’t enough. Because the things I’d see and hear things from other white folks reflected back frustration with my own whiteness. Because if I was going to hold myself to high standards, then others like me should, too. Because we need change now, and I wanted other white people – especially those I love – to understand that the same way I did.

I was so self-righteous that a mentor said I was like rushing water, trying to push people against their will. How could I become like a flowing river, to instead bring people along with me?

One teacher who has supported me in this is Sandra Kim, founder of the online platforms Everyday Feminism and Re-Becoming Human. Sandra talks about how we must build the emotional and spiritual capacity of white people to care for the pain of internalized white supremacy, so that it can be transformed into a compassionate call to action.

Sandra describes compassion as a naturally arising human response in the presence of pain – one that is stunted by our unconscious conditioning. To help people like me identify our normalized wounds, she defines the core pains of whiteness as:

• Disconnection from the reality of white supremacy, and therefore from people of color and white people with different racial consciousness;
• Disconnection from ourselves, especially from our bodies, hearts, and spirits;
• Disconnection from our lineages, including blood, ethnic, spiritual, and land ancestors;
• Disconnection from nature, including the land, water, animals, plants, minerals, and our natural rhythms.

That’s why she connects our desire to hold deeper compassion for others with the need for us to deepen our containers for our own pain first. So many of us see fires around us and want to help, but we often only add to the flames because we’re on fire ourselves. We have to acknowledge and care for these pains.

Edgar Villanueva, a long-time grantmaking practitioner and Native American leader, offers similar recommendations regarding our full, feeling selves. In his seminal book, Decolonizing Wealth, he says, “Settlers and their descendants have to grieve the lives of their ancestors, the culture that made their domination and exploitation even imaginable, possible, and acceptable. What confused, numbed, dissociated hell it must have been, on a deep level, even if they enjoyed benefits on other levels. Hurting people hurt others.”

Combined with ongoing education and reparations, I believe that one of the most powerful things that people of European descent like me can do is to reckon with how white supremacy has dehumanized us and our families in these ways, and identify our own stake in racial justice. Questions that have guided me in this include:

• What can healing look and feel like for white people, so that we can show up in multiracial workplaces and social movements in more effective, grounded ways?
• How can we recognize and treat white “fragility” as a trauma response to generations of isolating individualism and disconnection from our shared humanity?
• What is our north star for a different way of being – not just doing? And not just as white people, but as humans?

Resmaa Menakem, a Black therapist and social worker who specializes in trauma work, says that the place to start is with our bodies, which must integrate both our learning and our unlearning. He writes, “We’ve tried to teach our brains to think better about race. But white-body supremacy doesn’t live in our thinking brains. It lives and breathes in our bodies.”

One venue where I’ve found a deep community of practice for ancestral healing and reembodiment has been with the Healing Team of the DC chapter of Showing Up for Racial Justice (SURJ). Together, we experiment with dialogue, reflection, ritual, and more holistic ways of being. Conscious breath, mindfulness, song, and movement have all been powerful practices for reconnecting with my body, voice, and emotions, and for holding space for those of others.

This approach to anti-racism has helped me peel back the layers of my anger to find pain, loneliness, and grief over the loss of community, culture, and identity in my lineage. It has provided more space for joy in my life and relationships with other white people, like the Healing Team, as well. Lebanese poet Khalil Gibran beautifully described this when he wrote, “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”

Now when anger arises within me, I’m able to see it as an indication that something has been broken, such as an explicit agreement or an unspoken value that I hold. I’m better able to treat myself and others with compassion, and to give and receive feedback. This has strengthened my ability to engage with others around issues of race and racism in my family and my work; for example, in organizing caucuses with white peers in philanthropy. I also continue to take educational courses like “Roots Deeper Than Whiteness” with White Awake, and I donate monthly to local groups like the Diverse City Fund, where I served on the “Board of Instigators” for three years.

I encourage you to find your own community of practice, and I invite you into relationship. I believe this work can help move us beyond white-savior charity mindsets and performative allyship, and build a foundation for more authentic, accountable relationships and collective liberation.

In the words of Richael Faithful, a Black healing justice practitioner whose teachings have influenced my life, “Ending white supremacy is as much about humanizing people of color as it is about reclaiming whites’ own humanity.”

Thank you to Richael Faithful, Sandra Kim, Jennifer Lockwood-Shabat, Jina Song Freiberg, the SURJ DC Healing Team, and PEAK Grantmaking for their support with this piece.

Photo credit: Rob Ferrell Photography

Resources and organizations that might support you:

• “White Supremacy Culture” by Tema Okun
• “Undoing Racism” workshop from the People’s Institute for Survival and Beyond
• “Allyship” workshop from Service Never Sleeps 
• White Ally Toolkit by David Campt
• “Beyond Lists: On White Allyship and Reparations” by Karen Pittelman
• “White People in Philanthropy — This Is Our Move” by Pamela Shifman
• “Paying Attention to White Culture and Privilege: A Missing Link to Advancing Racial Equity” by Gita Gulati-Partee and Maggie Potapchuk
• “Grieving the White Void” by Abraham Lateiner
• “Whiteness on the Couch” by Natasha Stovall
• Human Ecology of Racism (H.E.R.) from Richael Faithful
  • “Compassionate Interventions of White Supremacy” webinar
• “Healing from Internalized Whiteness” course from Sandra Kim
• White Awake
  • “Roots Deeper Than Whiteness” by David Dean
  • “The Vast and Beautiful World of Indigenous Europe” by Lyla June
  • “The Maturation of a White Ally” by Mushim Patricia Ikeda

The post So You Want to Be a White Ally: Healing from white supremacy appeared first on Equity in the Center.

By: Kad Smith

If you’ve checked out our offerings at CompassPoint before, you know that we’ve referenced the habits of white supremacy culture frequently. It’s become one of the guiding frameworks that’s helped us build a common language around racial justice and equity at CompassPoint. As we all find ourselves being pushed, challenged, and transformed by this moment in time, it should be no surprise that dominant culture habits may be creeping back into our work, our teams, and our organizations. 

This popular post, which has been making the rounds on social media, brilliantly diagnoses how habits of white supremacy are showing up in virtual spaces now that many of us are working remotely. 

It should be no surprise that these habits are hard to break. In fact, as I’ve stared at this blog post over the last few days, the habit of perfectionism has deterred me from feeling good enough with just about anything I’ve typed up. The perfectly made cocktail of imposter syndrome and an existential crisis prompted by the world around us hasn’t helped either. 

During a crisis, it can be easy to fall back on habits of white supremacy and forget the hard work we’ve done to cultivate different ways of being. So what are some antidotes, alternative mindsets, and practices we can center right now?

Antidote #1: Letting go of productivity for productivity’s sake (the idea that above all else, we should be producing as much and as quickly as possible) 

The crisis we face right now is exacerbated by a norm that “producing by any means necessary” will lead us to some promised land.  In fact, this pandemic has demonstrated that one of the clearest failures of Capitalism is how we’ve designed a society and economy fueled by the production of a lot of non-essential things. Just as we are letting go of non-essential things in other parts of our lives, we should—where we can—slow down and reflect on what we’re holding onto to feel productive for the sake of productivity in our organizations. 

In our respective areas of work, we need to ask the question, “What’s essential right now?” And we need to keep asking it. We should be working in coordinated ways to solve problems that threaten the livelihoods of the communities we are a part of. But that doesn’t mean “staying busy”. Busy-ness is not a virtue. How much you can produce right now, in the midst of multiple crises, is not a measure of your worth or your value as a person. We have to make peace with the fact that not everything is going to get done right now.  

Positional leaders have to model that our productivity cannot come at the expense of our sanity, our well-being, and our ability to tend to our loved ones right now. Realize that this moment is as much a time to reflect, re-focus, and reset as it is to move, generate, and flourish in new ways. The permission leaders can provide by encouraging a principled approach to our prioritization (operating from our values, our politics, our missions) can’t be understated. We need to acknowledge our bandwidths are not the same in this time and pretending they are will cause inequities in the requests and expectations we set for each other. 

If your organization is one that requires reporting out of tasks completed while working from home, or stipulates the use of intensive time-tracking measures and other forms of often tedious surveillance, now would be an appropriate time let go of micromanaging and ask what really needs to be tracked and why. We have to ground ourselves by asking, “What goals can we realistically move toward during this time and why are these goals critical to what we do?” 

Antidote #2: Learning from our mistakes and striving to be far from perfect

We’re going to make a lot of mistakes as we adjust to this new reality. That’s certainly been the case for us over the last month. The weight of this moment may make those mistakes harder to come to terms with. Anxiety and fear might mean that we forget to extend grace and forgiveness. That’s an understandable dynamic for many of us, but it’s the illusion of perfection that often keeps us from building a new reality together. The choices we make, both big and small, will be full of missteps. However, they will also be laced with opportunities for us to get rich feedback, integrate learning into our next actions, and build trust in a way that the standard of perfectionism doesn’t allow for. Let’s ask what we’re learning from failure instead of believing, wrongly, that we’ll be free from it. 

Rejecting perfectionism right now is an act of compassion and extension of grace. As adrienne maree brown says, “What we pay attention to, grows.” If we continue to tend to a false sense of perfection being achievable, we will only further set our folks up for failure. That sets up cycles of blame and shame, which stop us from being creative in a moment where we need flexibility and imagination.

Antidote #3: Recognize comfort is fleeting and check your fragility

One of the habits of white supremacy that might be rearing its head right now is “right to comfort”—the belief that those with power have a right to emotional and psychological comfort. Let’s be clear: we all have a right to emotional and psychological safety—especially during times like these—but that doesn’t mean we can’t and shouldn’t be challenged outside of our comfort zones.

For the positional leaders out there, don’t let the sense of urgency or capitalistic demands of this moment keep you from tending to the self-work necessary to combat fragility. We all deserve spiritual, emotional, and mental well-being amidst this crisis.

However, self-care should not be weaponized as a way to reject feedback, hoard decision-making power, or to further marginalize those who may cause you personal discomfort by speaking truth to power when reflecting back how your leadership is affecting others. 

Of course, there’s a lot to be anxious about in this particular moment as folks leading and working in nonprofit organizations. Leaders are dealing with tough decisions every day and the burden of financial hardships becomes increasingly real for our organizations and teams. Uncertainty casts a shadow over the future and can make even our sunniest days feel gray. But within our organizations, the way in which comfort and safety are perceived and experienced is not the same. If you have the ability to make decisions that impact the livelihoods of others, your personal comfort cannot and should not come at the expense of those further from the center of gravity where power lives. You need to be ready to be challenged instead of running for the hills when things get emotional or uncomfortable. Those of us with positional power should tread carefully and understand that our comfort is a luxury, not a right. Acting as if we deserve it only further serves to distance us from the realities of those who’ve never felt a remotely comparable sense of protection from criticism and accountability. 

Now is an opportunity to demonstrate how growth and transformation can be catalyzed by discomfort. Your call to leadership should always be about those you choose to lead. How can you sit with the discomfort you feel and use it to build individual, interpersonal, and organizational resiliency?

Antidote #4: Embrace complexity and both/and thinking

If there was ever a time to break beyond binaries and sit with the complexity of possible paths forward, it’s now. The world as we know it could very well be ending and the world we’ve been so desperately dreaming of could be arriving earlier than we had anticipated. 

Either/or thinking is often driven by a rush to over-simplify. It’s easy to fall back on because it reduces ambiguous realities into a frame of “this or that”. One thing I’ve been reflecting on is that either/or thinking is often presented in organizations that are straddling questions around “Here’s what we’ve always done” and “Here’s what’s needed of us now”. This dynamic shows up in our internal practices, our external programming, and everything in between. Instead of it being an either/or headspace, how do we create the conditions necessary to honor the value of thinking through a both/and lens whenever possible? Either/or thinking is a habit of white supremacy because it often preserves the status quo and stops us from imagining new ways of being and doing. It creates dynamics of gridlock and stalemate. It forces us to take one of two sides and pushes us into team dynamics of “us versus them”.  Now, more than ever, we need to adopt whatever both/and strategies and perspectives that let us rid ourselves of a status quo that’s quite honestly not working for our organizations or the communities we work for. 

We got this, y’all

These are just some of the habits of white supremacy culture, also known as white dominant culture. This isn’t by any means a comprehensive take on how all of these habits may be showing up. I’d encourage anyone working in an organization to start a conversation on where you see these habits appearing. The truth is, they are called dominant culture habits for a reason—it takes constant tending to push back against them. I’ve felt their presence in all five of my years at CompassPoint. 

But it’s not the presence of the habits that I want to wallow in, it’s the brilliance of my colleagues who actively work to break these habits that I’m choosing to celebrate. From what I’ve seen, it takes practice, rigor, self-awareness, and exercising empathy. Even with that commitment, these habits aren’t broken easily or magically cured. But naming them in real time and honoring a commitment to create new norms is now more critical than ever. I remain deeply hopeful that our sector will come out on the other end of this pandemic transformed in ways I can barely begin to imagine. We got this y’all. 

Link to Original Blog Post on Compass Points of View

[Pronouns: he/ him / his, they/ them/ theirs]

Kad Smith is a project director with CompassPoint. In his time at CompassPoint Kad has specialized in program design and the facilitation of CompassPoint’s cohort leadership programs. Outside of his work with CompassPoint’s cohort leadership programs, Kad enjoys facilitating workshops in CompassPoint’s public training program where he covers a broad range of content and topics.

A native of Berkeley, Kad is a self-described “bay-destrian.” His family hails from Texas and across the southern United States. Kad is passionate about racial justice, prison reform, civic engagement, and the liberation of all marginalized people across the globe.

Before joining CompassPoint, Kad worked with the Ecology Center of Berkeley for six years, focusing on community engagement and environmental justice advocacy. Through his work with the Ecology Center, Kad also served as a precinct captain in Berkeley’s Measure D Campaign of 2014, which resulted in the historic passing of the first soda tax in US history. Most recently, Kad served as the Co-Director for Berkeley’s Measure Y1 Vote 16 Campaign, resulting in California’s first authorization of 16 and 17 year olds participating in a municipal election.

He has previously served on the Board of Directors for Berkeley’s Ecology Center, the Berkeley Community Fund and as a City Commissioner on Berkeley’s Community Health Commission and Police Review Commission. Additionally, Kad recently concluded his tenure of five years advising for the Berkeley YMCA’s Youth and Government program, where he advised young leaders to cultivate skills for a wide range of different types of political engagement.

In his spare time, Kad is an avid reader and writer. He also enjoys outdoor adventures, playing basketball and NBA2k (as he says, “come get this work!!!”), and watching the Golden State Warriors demolish any and all competition. 

The post Pushing Back Against Habits of White Supremacy During a Crisis appeared first on Equity in the Center.

By: Nicola Chin

Last week as I was creating this framework for Strategic Thinking in a Long-Term Crisis, I came across a hole in our library of resources: grieving.

Up With Community has tools and resources to share on trauma, but we were lacking supports to offer during the waves of grief, both overt and subtle, that are flowing through our communities right now.

For me, rituals of grieving were something that I learned through family tradition. First, as an altar girl serving funerals at my local parish and then through the aging of loved ones in our circle. The spirit of this learning still serves me today. And I’d like to connect with others through more interfaith, cross-cultural and non-dogmatic foundations for sharing in grieving and engaging in rituals together.

Last week I put a call out to our network for valuable resources on grief. Thank you to all who contributed thus far. Gabriela Alcade, Maura Bairley, Laura Gale, Dennis Johnson, Lulu Miller, Elizabeth Seja Min, Jyothi Natarajan, Nitika Raj, Brigette Rouson, Mark Rovner, Edith Sargon, Phoenix Soleil and Katie Unger, thank you!

This list is offered from the belief that there are many ways to grieve, that no form of grief is more deserving than another and that grieving is an iterative, cyclical process that takes time. We also believe that this catharsis can surprise us. By turning towards—rather than away from—what we need to feel, we can take the next step.

Late-stage capitalism and the pursuit of white supremacy have sought to strip cultures and communities of our rituals of grieving, as well as commodify and profit off of exploiting the practices and cultures of BIPOC communities. Today, we reject both.

Nurturing our relationships with ourselves and each other, we step into the waves of grief when and where we are called to. Hopefully this list can be a chair, a mirror, a handkerchief or a light in that process.

If you have a resource to add to this list, please email: nicola@upwithcommunity.org. We’ll be updating this post regularly.

• “Mourn. Unless we find within us the capacity to mourn, any action that we take is likely to come from contracted energy that goes against rather than towards. We are then way too likely, even if we succeed, to recreate the very thing we are aiming to change. Mourning allows us to expand our hearts, find the love, touch the longing for something different in a soft way, and connect with our vision more fully.” https://baynvc.org/
• Spell for Grief or Letting Go, by adrienne maree brown
• That Discomfort You’re Feeling is Grief, by Scott Berinato from Harvard Business Review
• Poem: The Well of Grief, by David Whyte

• Book: When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times, by Pema Chodron
• Poem: Season’s Grievings, by afrosa fatima ahmed
• Podcast: Brene Brown and David Kessler on Grief and Finding Meaning 
• Embracing Grief, by Sobonfu Somé
• Poem: Dead Stars, by Ada Limon
• Resources for healing from Susan Raffo

• Book: It’s OK to Laugh (crying is OK too), by Nora McInerny Purmort
• Poem: Instructions on Not Giving Up, by Ada Limon
• Articles from the Yes! Magazine recent issue on Death:
  • Dealing with Loss When Death is Uncertain
  • Why I Wore Black After He Died: Lessons from Victorian Mourning Culture
  • The Story of Death is the Story of Women
• The Geography of Sorrow, Sundance Magazine

Nicola Chin is the Founder of Up With Community, a practice for building creative, powerful, liberated teams. For more resources and tools visit: www.upwithcommunity.org.

Link to Original Blog Post

The post On Grieving appeared first on Equity in the Center.

We’ve spent the last two weeks virtually connecting with community-based partners across the country on their responses and needs at this moment. We have heard the resounding historic theme that, in moments of crisis, communities of color and other marginalized communities suffer first, and often hardest. The threats to our livelihood and justice can appear insurmountable. Yet, from the history of our ancestors, and all those who walked these roads before us, we know survival and hope are open to us.

In the search for that path, we have co-created a new tool, Strategic Thinking in a Long Term Crisis: One Approach. We hope this evolving resource can be a jumping off point to help community-based organizations make meaning of this moment together, and build the power we need for the weeks, months, and years ahead of us.

Read on for an excerpt from the guide and a link to download the full document.

In unprecedented times of crisis, we must begin our work with immediate, rapid response interventions. When a short-term crisis becomes a long-term reality, it can be helpful to merge rapid-response planning tools with strategic thinking to plan for the short, medium and long term simultaneously.

Building on the work of Erik Peterson’s VAST framework for campaign planning, as well as Leslie Sholl Jaffe and Randy Alford’s POP model (shared via STP), Up With Community has compiled this map of questions to support strategic thinking in a long-term crisis.

• After the first week or two we need to transition from “sprint mode” (working at 100% speed) into “marathon mode” (50% to 75% speed) to sustain our pace for a longer period of time.
• To help that transition, we want an easy way to keep our long- and medium-term objectives in our mind, while continuing to rapidly respond to the short-term needs of our communities.
• It is important during this time to continue:
  • Creating pathways to process emotions, impact and grieving for all teammates–attending to both the observable and perceived losses of each person. This can be a time to explore somatics and other new habits that can support healthy, sustained action.
  • Collecting and analyzing our own sources of data on the crisis, assessing which governmental entities are the most valuable for our individual communities.
  • And foregrounding questions of justice–particularly as the most marginalized communities are most impacted by crises and fascists often use crisis as a way to consolidate power.
• During a long-term crisis, we need to be able to see different “altitudes,” or perspectives, on the crisis at different times–and sometimes within the same meeting. We have mapped strategy questions to these altitudes to help your team move between perspectives. Please see this framework as a jumping-off point to organize and generate the questions most relevant to your work.

GET THE FULL GUIDE HERE. CLICK TO VIEW AND DOWNLOAD.

Nicola Chin is the Founder of Up With Community, a practice for building creative, powerful, liberated teams. For more resources and tools visit: www.upwithcommunity.org.

The post Building for Justice: Strategic Thinking in a Long-Term Crisis appeared first on Equity in the Center.

POSTED ON SEPTEMBER 9, 2019

[Español abajo]

By Amy Mandel (Bio below)

During our “pause for the cause,” AMKRF has entered a time of organizational reflection and analysis building. As a part of our work, we are sharing reflections about what we’ve learned in the process of building relationships with one another and analyzing power, white supremacy, oppression, alongside liberation. 

I’ve been spending time reflecting on some big questions lately: What is the value of building relationships and internal culture for an organization like ours? How has the internal work we’ve done as a team impacted our external work? And how has this work aided our journey toward a new organizational structure and a forthcoming leadership transition?

A year ago, we began working with Beth Trigg and Tamiko Ambrose-Murray to build a team culture centered on a shared set of values. We built analysis together and in community. We envisioned and launched an extensive community-based research process. Our grantmaking and programming will be forever changed because of this work. 

But because of Tamiko and Beth’s work with us, I have changed. And the way the rest of the team shows up has changed. 

When the “pause for the cause” idea emerged, I began to think about the Center for Participatory Change (CPC). I had heard about CPC’s transition process–how they had learned to have the hard conversations and continue to build trust. I wondered how our team could be changed by a similar process. I have long admired CPC because my sense is that their values are not only reflected in what they do but how they do it. Since I first started having contact with CPC staff, I was heartened by the way they bring their whole selves to their work. I want this for AMKRF because I believe that “whole selves” make the most impactful change. 

It’s hard to say exactly what has made our internal work and the community research process so impactful. But several things stand out. As consultants and guides, Tamiko and Beth co-created a deeply intentional process grounded in relationship building and ritual. They insisted that we take the time we needed to grow and to let things percolate.They brought incredible faith in me and in the staff. Throughout, they held onto the possibility that AMKRF could go from where we have been to where we want to go.

This process has taught me so much. Here’s some of what I have learned that I want to share with my friends and colleagues doing this work…

Relationship building pays off. Alongside our community research, staff have spent time building relationships  with each other. Each team member demonstrated tremendous willingness to show up, even when our conversations were difficult. We’ve added several practices to our culture. We do personal check-ins at the beginning of each meeting. We eat lunch together in a social way once a month to keep up on each others’ personal lives, joys, and challenges. We’ve incorporated ritual and reflection into some of our meetings to set the tone for the space we want to hold. This work has morphed us from a bunch of individuals to a functioning team. 

Trust is indispensable. As we spend time together, we are learning each other’s personalities and vulnerabilities. Trust is growing in ways that are beginning to allow us to talk about more difficult things.

Real relationships built on trust are crucial to building alliances and collaborations and, ultimately, to changing hearts and minds. This is something our facilitators, Tamiko and Beth, have modeled for us beautifully. As our trust deepens, we have been able to experiment with a new decision making model, we call the advice model. It allows us to work more seamlessly, for staff to have greater autonomy, and for community to have greater voice in our decision making processes.  

Directness is critical. The niceness that has been bred into white women through patriarchy and white supremacy was entrenched in our organization. It got in our way. The learned tendency to protect each other’s feelings leads to indirect communication. Our entire team is becoming more direct about what we each see, want, and need for the organization to function. I have learned that if we commit to being direct and honest that our conversations, although sometimes challenging, lead to more points of view being expressed, which make our work stronger.

Time is a friend. Fear of not responding adequately to the real crisis of this time can prevent those of us in movement and nonprofit work work from taking our time: How can it be ok to slow down when the needs of our grantees and our community are so great and the world seems to be on fire? This culture breeds a deep sense of urgency–Be productive. Get it done. Do it fast so you can do more. Do it perfectly. In the past, this intensive pressure led us to replicate oppressive dynamics in our grantmaking and programming.To keep us from knee-jerk responses and to ground our work, we need to slow down. Building anti-oppressive ways of being takes time. The time is worth it.

Embrace messiness. This pause for the cause has been so non-linear. Internal work happened alongside community research. Pilot programs were launched to distribute funding in the interim. A new staff person was onboarded, and we began conversations about what a new structure of leadership might look like. It’s been a messy process, which has challenged the perfectionism that was embedded in our organizational culture. Perfectionism requires that we overdeliver and, in the process, suppress some parts of ourselves. This bringing-the-whole-self work is NOT easy. It’s messy and uncomfortable, but it is real and productive. It feels atypical, and yet feels so very healthy. For the first time, it feels like our work is sustainable. And as we embrace the messy, we are able to find new ways, better ways, to do philanthropy and support local leaders. 

What’s Next?

When we started our journey, I felt proud of my work as  AMKRF’s founder and visionary, yet I was increasingly working at the edge of my capacity to manage and implement AMKRF’s vision. A significant period of time has passed since I was working on the ground as a community organizer. There are gaps in my own skill set and limits to what I can see because of my own identity as a wealthy, white woman who was born into money. I needed others to expand the vision and take it to places I could not even see. 

I’ve known for awhile that a leadership transition is necessary to take AMKRF to the next place. At first, I felt this as a  loss. Now that we are here, it just feels right. 

I don’t know exactly what is next for me as my role shifts, but I trust that my involvement will continue to be satisfying. A shift in power is what is needed for our next chapter. 

Over our time working together, Tamiko shared, “I know when the work I am doing with organizations is transformative when I am transformed.” 

I can truly say now that the work of AMKRF has transformed me and ultimately that leaves me with hope about what’s next. 

La reflexión de una fundadora sobre la pausa y la transición

Por Amy Mandel (Bio abajo)

Durante nuestra “pausa por la causa”, AMKRF ha entrado en un tiempo de reflexión organizacional y de desarrollo de análisis.Como parte de nuestro trabajo, estamos compartiendo reflexiones acerca de lo que hemos aprendido en el proceso de construcción de relaciones entre nosotrxs y analizando el poder, la supremacía blanca y la opresión, junto con la liberación.

Últimamente he pasado tiempo reflexionando sobre algunas preguntas grandes: ¿Cuál es el valor de construir relaciones y una cultura interna para una organización como la nuestra? ¿Cómo ha impactado el trabajo interno que hemos realizado como equipo a nuestro trabajo externo? ¿Y cómo ha ayudado este trabajo en nuestro recorrido hacia una estructura organizacional nueva y a una transición hacia un próximo liderazgo?

Hace un año empezamos a trabajar con Beth Trigg y Tamiko Ambrose-Murray para construir un equipo centrado en la cultura compartida de un conjunto de valores. Nosotrxs construimos análisis juntxs y en comunidad. Visualizamos e iniciamos un proceso de investigación amplio basado en la comunidad. Nuestra programación y sistema de entrega de becas nunca serán los mismos gracias a este trabajo.

Pero yo he cambiado gracias al trabajo que Tamiko y Beth han realizado con nosotrxs. Y la manera en la que el resto del equipo aparece ha cambiado también.

Cuando la idea de “una pausa por la causa” apareció, comencé a pensar en el Center for Participatory Change (CPC).  Había escuchado del proceso transición de CPC – en el que ellxs habían aprendido a tener esas conversaciones difíciles y continuaban construyendo confianza.He admirado a CPC por mucho tiempo porque siento que sus valores no solo se reflejan en lo que hacen sino también en como lo hacen. Desde que empecé a tener contacto con el personal de CPC, me reconfortaba en la manera en que traían todo su ser al trabajo que realizaban. Esto es lo que quiero para AMKRF porque creo que “todo nuestro ser”es lo que crea el cambio más impactante. Había escuchado del proceso de CPC – en el que ellxs habían aprendido a tener esas conversaciones difíciles y continuaban construyendo confianza. Me preguntaba cómo nuestro equipo podría cambiar al usar un proceso similar.

Es difícil decir exactamente que es lo que ha hecho que esta experiencia tenga tanto impacto. Pero varias cosas sobresalen. Como consultoras y guías, Tamiko y Beth co-crearon un proceso profundo e intencional basado en la construcción de relaciones y en un ritual. Ellas insistieron en que nos tomáramos el tiempo que necesitáramos para crecer y dejar que las cosas se filtraran. Nos trajeron mucha fe no solo a mí sino a todo el personal. A través de esto, ellas mantuvieron la posibilidad de que AMKRF pudiera ir de donde hemos estado a donde queremos ir.

Este proceso me ha enseñado mucho. Aquí hay algo de lo que he aprendido y que quiero compartir con mis amigxs y colegas haciendo este trabajo…

La construcción de relaciones da sus frutos. Junto a nuestra investigación comunitaria, el personal ha pasado tiempo construyendo relaciones les unxs con les otrxs. Cada miembrx del equipo demostró tremenda voluntad para presentarse, aun cuando nuestras conversaciones eran difíciles. Hemos agregado varias prácticas a nuestra cultura. Hacemos chequeos personales al inicio de cada reunión. Almorzamos juntxs de una manera social una vez al mes para mantenernos al tanto de nuestras vidas personales, nuestras alegrías y desafíos. Hemos incorporando el ritual y la reflexión en unas de nuestras reuniones para establecer el tono del espacio que queremos tener. Este trabajo nos ha transformado al pasar de ser un montón de individuxs a ser un equipo funcional.

La confianza es indispensable. A medida que pasamos tiempo juntxs, estamos aprendiendo de cada una de nuestras personalidades y vulnerabilidades. La confianza esta creciendo de maneras que nos esta empezando a permitir hablar sobre cosas mas difíciles.

Las relaciones reales construidas bajo la confianza son cruciales para crear alianzas y colaboraciones, y finalmente a cambiar los corazones y las mentes. Esto es algo que nuestras facilitadores, Tamiko y Beth, han modelado para nosotrxs de manera hermosa. A medida que nuestra confianza se profundiza, hemos podido experimentar con un nuevo modelo para tomar decisiones. Lo llamamos el modelo de asesoramiento. Este nos permite trabajar sin problemas, para que el personal tenga una mayor autonomía y para que la comunidad tenga una voz mayor en nuestro proceso de toma de decisiones.

La franqueza es crítica. La amabilidad que se ha generado dentro de las mujeres blancas a través del patriarcado y la supremacía blanca estaba arraigada en nuestra organización. Se metió en medio de nosotrxs. La tendencia aprendida para proteger los sentimiento de cada unx lleva a la comunicación indirecta. Nuestro equipo completo se está volviendo más directo sobre lo que vemos, lo que queremos y necesitamos para que la organización funcione. He aprendido que aunque nuestras conversaciones sean difíciles, si nos comprometemos a ser directxs y honestxs, esto nos llevara a que más puntos de vista sean expresadas; lo cual hace que nuestro trabajo sea mas fuerte.

El tiempo es un amigo. El miedo a no responder adecuadamente a la crisis real de este tiempo, puede prevenir a aquellxs de nosotrxs que hacemos movimiento y trabajo sin fines de lucro a que nos tomemos nuestro tiempo: ¿Cómo puede estar bien desacelerar cuando las necesidades de nuestrxs becarixs y nuestra comunidad son tan grandes y el mundo parece estar incendiado? Esta cultura genera un sentido profundo de urgencia — Sé productivx. Hazlo. Hazlo rápido para que puedas hacer más. Hazlo de manera perfecta. En el pasado, esta presión intensiva nos llevaba a replicar dinámicas opresivas en la entrega de nuestras becas y nuestra programación. Necesitamos parar para poder mantenernos alejadxs de las respuestas irreflexivas y enfocarnos en enraizar nuestro trabajo. La construcción de diferentes maneras anti opresivas lleva tiempo. El tiempo vale la pena.

Acepta el desorden. Esta pausa por la causa no ha sido linear. El trabajo interno sucedió junto con la investigación comunitaria. Los programas pilotos se lanzaron para distribuir los fondos en el intermedio. Se unió una nueva persona a nuestro personal y empezamos conversaciones sobre como se podría ver una nueva estructura de liderazgo. Ha sido un proceso desordenado, lo cual ha retado el perfeccionismo que estaba incrustado en nuestra cultura organizacional. El perfeccionismo requiere que demos en exceso y en el proceso suprimimos algunas partes de nosotrxs mismxs. Este trabajo de traer todo el ser NO es fácil. Es desordenado e incomodo pero real y productivo. Se siente atípico y aun así es muy saludable. Por primera vez, se siente que nuestro trabajo es sostenible, Y a medida que aceptamos el desorden, somos capaces de encontrar nuevas y mejores maneras para hacer el trabajo de filantropía y de apoyar a lxs lideres locales.

¿Qué sigue?

Cuando empezamos nuestro recorrido, me sentía orgullosa de mi trabajo como fundadora y visionaria de AMKRF. Aún así estaba trabajando al borde de mi capacidad para administrar e implementar la visión de AMKRF. Ha pasado un periodo de tiempo significativo desde que estuve trabajando en el campo como organizadora comunitaria. Hay brechas en mis propias habilidades y limitaciones de lo que puedo ver debido a mi propia identidad como una mujer blanca, adinerada que nació con dinero. Yo necesitaba que otras personas expandieran la visión y la tomaran a lugares que yo no podía ver.

He sabido por un buen tiempo que una transición de liderazgo es necesaria para llevar a AMKRF a su próximo lugar. Primero, sentí esto como una perdida. Ahora que estamos aquí, se siente muy bien.

No sé exactamente que es lo que sigue para mí a medida que mi rol cambia pero confío en que mi involucramiento continuara siendo satisfactorio. Un cambio en el poder es lo que se necesita para nuestro próximo capitulo.

Durante nuestro tiempo trabajando juntxs, Tamiko compartió, “Yo sé que el trabajo que estoy haciendo con las organizaciones es transformativo cuando yo me transformo”

Puedo decir ahora sinceramente que el trabajo de AMKRF me ha transformado y finalmente me deja con esperanza sobre lo que sigue.

Amy Mandel,
Founder and Funder,
The Tzedek Social Justice

Amy was born into a Jewish family in Cleveland, Ohio in the earIy 1950s. She moved to the Boston area to attend Brandeis University and stayed in the area for 32 years. Her first exposure to social justice activism came through reading about the resistance to the Holocaust in the fifth grade. Throughout Amy’s college years she was involved in anti-Vietnam protests. She participated in the second wave of the U.S. women’s movement and the growing post-Stonewall LGBT movement. Amy has become increasingly focused on efforts to build bridges between and alliances among communities that have traditionally been at odds. This focus includes supporting efforts that integrate voices and issues of marginalized groups into mainstream progressive organizations. Amy and her partner Katina have been together since 1991 and were legally married in Massachusetts in 2009. In 2001, they moved to Asheville and have never regretted it. They both feel firmly planted in their new community. These days Amy enjoys spending time with their granddaughter, friends, and family; playing piano; practicing qigong; witnessing the effective work and impact of the Tzedek Social Justice Fellows; and, after a long hiatus due to illness, singing once again with her beloved community women’s chorus, Womansong of Asheville.

The post A Founder’s Reflections on Pausing and Transitioning appeared first on Equity in the Center.

POSTED ON JUNE 5, 2019

[Español abajo]

By Lindsay Majer (Bio below)

I imagine our pause for the cause has looked like an eleven-month vacation. We did not welcome a new cohort of Fellows. We haven’t hosted lunch and learns or community forums. We haven’t produced widgets. Though our grantmaking has continued and we recently announced several pilot programs, some of you may have wondered what we’ve been up to.

I can attest that we’ve been hard at work. We have been looking inward naming our privilege, looking power in the face, unlearning internalized beliefs, and resisting practices entrenched in white supremacy with patience, compassion and care for each other. It’s ongoing work that requires emotional labor and continual reflection. Here, I share with you part of my processing:

Going Inward

When we are in constant motion reacting to the immediate needs in front of us, it’s difficult to identify the systems and structures in place that perpetuate oppression. This pause has made us sloooow down and sit still in who we are, where we come from, what we value, and what we believe to be true.

I hold a lot of privilege and power as a straight, cisgender, abled, 38 year-old, formally-educated white female.  White culture reinforces the idea that people who look like me have the answers, but the truth is, I don’t know what I haven’t experienced. And I have a responsibility to listen and learn from others’ experiences, hold space without being in the center of it, and amplify the voices of those whom society places in the margins.

Similarly, as AMKRF goes inward, we are identifying the power we hold as a funder. We are learning how the systems of philanthropy are oppressive, conspire to keep the status quo, and maintain power over. These systems are inconsistent with our values. Informed by the community listening project and guided by our trusted advisors, this pause has allowed us to think creatively about how to do philanthropy differently.

Relationships Are It

Over the past few months, AMKRF staff have spent a lot of time sharing stories about the places we’ve lived, the people who shaped us, and the experiences that have influenced our perspective. Sharing these personal stories felt revealing and vulnerable at times, but hearing and sharing these perspectives connected us on a human level. Getting to know each other in this way brought a new level of respect and trust.

With that trust, we started to examine the culture of our organization. What power does each of us hold? How does this inform our decisions? How does white supremacy show up in our organization? Knowing where each of us was coming from was helpful when having difficult conversations and identifying tensions within our organizational culture. When tensions arise, and they do, we trust they come from a place of deep caring.

Bringing our whole self to work is liberating. Valuing each other as a whole person rather than the hat they wear when they show up is truly a radical act. Taking the time to listen and share builds trust – trust in the process, trust in each other, and trust in what you are working to create.

Culture Building

As we peeled back the layers of the AMKRF onion throughout our pause, dominant white culture continued to show up. We identified that our communication was overly nice and non-confrontational. We asked everyone for input, but never shared how feedback would influence the decision making process. Our unspoken norms were reactionary and urgent. Our grant applications assumed white leadership and asked a lot of unnecessary questions. Our organizational policies were either absent or unclear leading to confusion and inequalities. Our outlook was apologetic, guilt ridden, and seeped in white fragility. We showed up in community unaware of the power we hold as a funder.

I could go on about all the hard truths we identified and continue to identify about our organizational culture. Fortunately, being aware and naming them is the first step to transforming them. Eleven months ago, I didn’t have time to think about these things let alone possess the words to name them. With some guidance* and patience, by going inward, trusting in relationships, and building our organizational culture, we are creating systems more in line with our values. We hope the culture we create as individuals within our organization ripples outward into a more just world.

*Extraordinary guidance provided by Tamiko Ambrose Murray of Ambrose Consulting and Beth Trigg of Taproot Consulting. Learn more about their work with social justice organizations by reaching out to them at ambroseconsultingwnc@gmail.com and beth.trigg@gmail.com.

Liberación de Adentro Hacia Fuera

Por Lindsay Majer (Bio abajo)

Imagino que nuestra pausa por la causa parece una vacación de once meses. No recibimos a un nuevo grupo de becarixs. No hemos organizado almuerzos para aprender ni foros comunitarios. No hemos producido widgets. Aunque hemos seguido nuestras donaciones y recientemente anunciamos varios programas piloto, puede ser que algunxs de ustedes se hallan preguntado qué hemos estado haciendo.

Puedo dar fe de que hemos estado trabajando arduamente. Hemos vuelto nuestra mirada hacia adentro nombrando nuestro privilegio, viendo al poder en la cara, y resistiendo las prácticas arraigadas en la supremacía blanca con paciencia, compasión y cuidándonos mutuamente. Es una labor consistente que requiere trabajo emocional y reflexión continua. Por medio de la presente comparto con usted parte de mi proceso:

Yendo Hacia Adentro

Cuando estamos en constante movimiento reaccionando a las necesidades inmediatas que tenemos enfrente, es difícil identificar los sistemas y estructuras que prolongan la opresión. Esta pausa nos ha hecho bajar la velocidad y quedarnos quietxs en quiénes somos, de dónde venimos, qué valoramos y qué creemos que es cierto.

Yo tengo muchos privilegios y poder por ser una mujer blanca, heterosexual, cisgénero, sin discapacidades de 38 años, con educación formal.  La cultura blanca reafirma la idea que la gente que se ve como yo tiene las respuestas, pero la verdad es que no conozco las experiencias que me faltan y tengo la responsabilidad de escuchar y aprender de las experiencias de lxs demás, dar espacio sin estar en el centro, y amplificar las voces de quienes la sociedad marginaliza.

Del mismo modo, a medida que AMKRF mira hacia adentro, estamos identificando el poder que tenemos como financiador. Estamos aprendiendo cómo los sistemas de filantropía oprimen, conspiran para mantener el estatus quo y mantener el poder.  Estos sistemas son incompatibles con nuestros valores. Con la información del proyecto para escuchar a la comunidad y bajo la asesoría de nuestrxs asesores de confianza, esta pausa nos ha permitido pensar creativamente en cómo hacer filantropía de manera distinta.

Todo Depende de las Relaciones

Durante los últimos meses, el personal de AMKRF ha dedicado mucho tiempo a compartir historias sobre los lugares donde hemos vivido, las personas que nos moldearon y las experiencias que han influido en nuestra perspectiva. A veces, compartir estas historias personales es muy revelador y vulnerable, pero escuchar y compartir estas perspectivas nos conectó en un nivel humano. El llegar a conocernos de esta manera trajo consigo un nuevo nivel de respeto y confianza.

Con esa confianza, empezamos a examinar la cultura de nuestra organización. ¿Qué poder tienen cada unx de nosotrxs?  ¿Qué influencia tiene eso sobre nuestras decisiones? ¿Cómo se manifiesta la supremacía blanca en nuestra organización? El saber de dónde venimos nos ha ayudado cuando sostenemos conversaciones difíciles y también a identificar tensiones dentro de nuestra cultura organizativa. Cuando surgen tensiones, y sí que surgen, confiamos que provienen de un lugar de profundo cariño.

Es liberador incorporar nuestro ser por completo a nuestro trabajo. Valorarnos mutuamente como personas completas y no solo el papel que jugamos es un acto verdaderamente radical. Tomarnos el tiempo para escuchar y compartir crea confianza-confianza en el proceso, confianza mutua, y confianza en lo estas creando.

Creando Cultura

A medida que pelamos las capas de la cebolla de AMKRF a lo largo de nuestra pausa, la cultura blanca dominante seguía surgiendo. Identificamos que nuestra comunicación era excesivamente agradable y no conflictiva. Pedimos la contribución de todxs, pero nunca compartimos cómo esa retroalimentación influenciaría el proceso de toma de decisiones. Nuestras normas no expresadas eran reaccionarias y urgentes. Nuestras solicitudes de becas asumían un liderazgo blanco y hacían muchas preguntas innecesarias. Nuestras normas organizativas estaban ausentes o no eran claras, lo que creaba confusión y desigualdad. Nuestro panorama era apologético, abrumado por la culpa, e infiltrado por la fragilidad blanca. Participábamos en la comunidad sin ser conscientes del poder que tenemos como financiadorxs.

Podría continuar hablando sobre todas las verdades difíciles que identificamos y que continuamos identificando sobre nuestra cultura organizativa. Afortunadamente, el primer paso para transformar esas verdades es reconocerlas y nombrarlas. Hace once meses no tenía tiempo para pensar en estas cosas y mucho menos tenía las palabras para nombrarlas. Con algo de asesoramiento* y paciencia, al ir hacia adentro, confiar en las relaciones, y crear nuestra cultura organizativa, estamos creando sistemas que están en línea con nuestros valores. Esperamos que la cultura que creemos dentro de nuestra organización como individuos cree olas para tener un mundo más justo.

*Asesoramiento extraordinario proporcionado por Tamiko Ambrose Murray de Ambrose Consulting y Beth Trigg de Taproot Consulting. Conozca más sobre su trabajo en las organizaciones de justicia social poniéndose en contacto en ambroseconsultingwnc@gmail.com y beth.trigg@gmail.com.

Lindsay Majer,
Director of Mindful Operations and Finance,
The Tzedek Social Justice

Lindsay grew up moving every three or four years in an Army family. Having lived five different places by the age of 15, including eight years in Germany, Lindsay learned the importance of community early on. She began her professional career in environmental planning and natural resource management and soon realized social equity is too often left out of sustainability efforts. Lindsay began working for social justice in 2013 with a job-training and workforce development non-profit organization. This work increased equitable access to opportunity, education, health, and wealth to all individuals regardless of their background, which is the only way thriving communities are created. When not providing organizational support for the Amy Mandel and Katina Rodis Fund, Lindsay teaches yoga in a variety of settings from group classes, wellness retreats, and one-on-one private sessions in Asheville, NC. She loves digging in the dirt and making flowers and vegetables grow. She also enjoys cooking and spending time dining with friends. Visit Lindsay’s website.

The post Liberation from the Inside Out appeared first on Equity in the Center.

The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle Philanthropy

POSTED ON AUGUST 19, 2019

[Español abajo]

By: Marsha Davis (Bio below)

During our “pause for the cause,” AMKRF has entered a time of organizational reflection and analysis building. As a part of our work, we are sharing reflections about what we’ve learned in the process of building relationships with one another and analyzing power, white supremacy, oppression, alongside liberation. 

 

“If they don’t give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair.” – Shirley Chisolm

I’ve learned many lessons from my family of Haitian immigrants. My parents came to this country seeking better opportunities for themselves and their children; and as I was growing up, they drilled into my head the importance of taking “my seat at the table.”  While they believed in America’s potential, they weren’t naive about America’s reality. They knew that my status as a black woman in a white-led country left me vulnerable to all sorts of discrimination. My parents knew that in order to take advantage of all that America had to offer and to have the most self-determination over my own life, I had to be in the rooms where the decisions were made.

So I worked hard and navigated white supremacy and patriarchy like Neo from The Matrix. I had a singular mission: get a seat at the table. I made career choices that matched my ambition. I graduated from Harvard and set out to change the world. What my parents never told me, however, was what to do once I got my seat at the table.  Like generations of parents from the African diaspora, they put all of their energy into pushing their children towards more opportunity, without an idea of what the landscape would look like when we got there.

My journey into leadership mirrors the journey of “The ‘Problem’ Woman of Color in the Workplace” depicted by the Center for Community Organizations (COCo).

I faced challenges that my education and family didn’t prepare me for. Like, what to do when your white boss asks you to convince another black employee that the organization doesn’t have a race problem. Or when institutional racism is so entrenched you can guess which employees work in administration by looking at the color of their skin. Or how to address legitimate concerns about how people of color (POC) are treated by your organization while finding the time to do the job you were actually hired to do.

Now that I have a seat at a philanthropic table, influencing how funds are redistributed, I’ve looked to my black queer feminist ancestors for guidance on how to lean into this moment. I find myself returning to Audre Lorde’s words, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change.”

I look to the work of social justice movement builders, and all of American history, to remind me that while I’ve been able to reap benefits from the systems of this country, the system is still rigged. Philanthropy sits at a complex point in our capitalist system, where it is both a tool of support for marginalized communities while also being funded from a system that allows the top 1% to horde wealth to the detriment of the remaining 99%.

As a first-generation American who has, in some ways, lived into the American dream, I am deeply personally invested in helping this country to embody the values it says that it espouses–values of human dignity, self-determination and an engaged democracy where everyone is empowered in their pursuit of happiness. Many of the “best practices” of philanthropy actually move funders further away from those values. For example, many funders have strict restrictions on what grantees can use grant dollars on, leaving nonprofit staff in the position of ignoring what is best for their organization and community so they can contort to fit the funders’ requirements. These practices enhance the control of the wealthiest and uphold the values of “the master’s house.”

I’m not interested in reproducing those systems at the Mandel Rodis Fund. With our team, I am grappling with the concept of “genuine change.” Is it possible to create a reparative relationship between funders and grantees where we are co-conspirators in the fight for liberation? Can we work together to dismantle the master’s house with the understanding that inequitable systems hurt us all, both the wealthy and the poor? Can we build alternative systems that strengthen and empower our entire community? I owe it to my ancestors, my immigrant family, and my current community of social justice warriors to do the work to answer these questions.

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La filantropía no se desmantela con las herramientas del amo

Por Marsha Davis (Bio abajo)

 

Durante nuestra “pausa por la causa”, AMKRF ha entrado en un tiempo de reflexión organizacional y de desarrollo de análisis. Como parte de nuestro trabajo, estamos compartiendo reflexiones acerca de lo que hemos aprendido en el proceso de construcción de relaciones entre nosotrxs y analizando el poder, la supremacía blanca y la opresión, junto con la liberación.

“Si no te dan un puesto en la mesa, trae una silla plegable.” – Shirley Chisolm

He aprendido muchas lecciones de mi familia de inmigrantes haitianxs. Mis viejxs vinieron a este país en busca de mejores oportunidades para ellxs y sus hijxs, y durante mi crianza, me inculcaron la importancia de tomar “mi puesto en la mesa.” Aunque ellxs creían en el potencial estadounidense, no eran ingenuxs acerca de la realidad de Los Estados Unidos. Ellxs sabían que mi condición de mujer negra en un país liderado por gente blanca me hacía vulnerable a todo tipo de discriminación. Mis viejxs sabían que para poder aprovechar todo lo que Los Estados Unidos ofrecía y para tener la máxima autonomía sobre mi propia vida, yo tendría que estar en los lugares en donde se tomaban las decisiones.

Por eso trabajé muy duro y me desplacé por la supremacía blanca y el patriarcado como Neo en The Matrix. Mi misión era una sola: tener un puesto en la mesa. Tomé decisiones profesionales que coincidieran con mi ambición. Me gradué de Harvard y me dispuse a cambiar el mundo. Sin embargo, lo que mis viejxs no me dijeron fue qué hacer una vez tuviera mi puesto en la mesa. De la misma manera en que generaciones de padres y madres de la diáspora africana, ellxs pusieron toda su energía en impulsar a sus hijxs hacia más oportunidades, sin tener idea sobre cómo sería el panorama cuando llegaran ahí.

Mi travesía en el liderazgo se asemeja a la travesía de “The ‘Problem’ Woman of Color in the Workplace (La ‘problemática’ mujer de color en el trabajo) representada por la organización Center for Community Organizations (COCo).

Enfrenté muchos retos para los que ni mi educación ni mi familia me prepararon. Por ejemplo, qué hacer cuando tu jefe blancx te pide que convenzas a otrx empleadx negrx de que la organización no tiene ningún problema racial. O cuando el racismo institucional está tan arraigado que puedes adivinar cuáles empleados trabajan en posiciones administrativas solamente con mirar el color de su piel. O cómo hacerle frente a las preocupaciones sobre la forma en que tu organización trata a las personas de color (POC, por sus siglas en inglés) a la vez que tratas de encontrar el tiempo para hacer el trabajo para el cual te contrataron.

Ahora que tengo un puesto en la mesa de la filantropía, influyendo en cómo se redistribuyen los fondos, he recurrido a mis ancestros negrxs feministas y queer para que me guíen sobre cómo mantenerme firme en este momento. Me encuentro regresando a las palabras de Audre Lorde, “La casa del amo no se desmantela con las herramientas del amo. Puede que nos permitan vencerlo de momento en su propio juego, pero nunca nos permitirán causar un cambio verdadero.”

Recurro al trabajo de lxs constructorxs del movimiento de justicia social, y a toda la historia estadounidense, para recordarme que aunque yo he podido beneficiarme de los sistemas de este país, el sistema sigue estando amañado. La filantropía se encuentra en un punto complejo en nuestro sistema capitalista, en el que es una herramienta de apoyo para las comunidades marginadas, pero a la vez es financiada por un sistema que permite que el 1% acumule riqueza en prejuicio del 99% restante.

Como ciudadana estadounidense de primera generación, que de ciertas maneras ha vivido el sueño americano, tengo un profundo interés en ayudar a este país a ser un ejemplo de los valores que dice apoyar–valores de dignidad humana, de autonomía y de democracia participativa en donde todxs tengan poderío en su búsqueda de la felicidad. Muchas de las mejores prácticas” de la filantropía resultan alejando a lxs financiadorxs aún más de esos valores. Por ejemplo, muchxs financiadorxs tienen restricciones sobre cómo lxs becarixs pueden utilizar el dinero, poniendo al personal de las organizaciones sin fines de lucro en la posición de ignorar lo que es mejor para su organización y comunidad para poder retorcerse y ajustarse a los requisitos de lxs financiadorxs. Estas prácticas incrementan el control de lxs más adineradxs y sostienen los valores del “amo de la casa.”

No me interesa reproducir esos sistemas en el Mandel Rodis Fund. Junto con nuestro equipo, lucho por el concepto de “cambio verdadero.” ¿Es posible crear una relación reparadora entre financiadorxs y becarixs en la que conspiremos juntxs en la lucha por la liberación? ¿Podemos trabajar juntxs para desmantelar la casa del amo, entendiendo que los sistemas injustos nos perjudican a todxs, tanto a lxs adineradxs como a lxs pobres? ¿Podemos construir sistemas alternativos que fortalezcan y empoderen a toda nuestra comunidad? A mis ancestrxs, a mi familia inmigrante, y a mi comunidad actual de guerrerxs de la justicia social les debo el poder hacer el trabajo para responder a estas preguntas.

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Marsha Davis,
Co-Director of Organizational Strategy and Practice,
The Tzedek Social Justice

Marsha was born and raised in New York City as a first-generation Haitian-American. Her introduction to social justice came from the many stories her parents shared of the Haitian Revolution. Marsha believes deeply in the power of community to create positive change and create equitable environments. She first dived into social justice as an educator, working to inspire students of color to pursue science in college. Marsha graduated from Harvard University with a BA in Molecular and Cellular Biology and earned a Masters in Science Education. She transitioned to nonprofit administration to broaden her impact on social justice movements. Marsha has over ten years of experience as an educator, administrator, and racial equity consultant. In 2012, Marsha founded and led The Trifecta Tribe, providing life coaching and retreats centered on the self-care needs of LGBTQ women of color. In her most recent role as the Chief Program Officer at the YWCA of Asheville she oversaw their grant-driven programs. In her capacity at Davis Squared Consulting, she works with organizations to create equitable internal cultures.   Marsha lives in Asheville with her husband Marcus and demanding cat Milo.

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