This article was originally published on September 6, 2022.
An incorrect diagnosis will lead to failed treatment. Even a great cure applied to the wrong problem stands a good chance of making matters worse. Democracy philanthropy is mired in a misdiagnosis moment.
If you sit in a room with foundation leaders, many say “division” is the biggest problem afflicting American democracy. Buzz-phrasey solutions pepper discussions: “common ground,” “bridge-building,” “togetherness,” “civility,” “dialogue,” “pluralism.” Smartly packaged polling insists the mythical middle-American everyman/mom is alienated and just wishes the loudmouths on both sides would stop their rude squabbling so the rest of “us” can meet in the imaginary middle.
Right?
In this worldview, divisiveness is the culprit, so disagreements need to be quashed. The volume turned down, along with the heat. Facilitate friendliness. Fund the least offensive. Incivility is the acid eroding our democracy, so the cure is kumbaya.
Wrong.
I am a very polite person, but niceties are not my North Star. In this moment of reckoning, I have a claim to make and I will make it at the decibel level required to elicit a fair and proper response. Protestors don’t yell because they like to be loud. They yell so that those whose feet rest on our necks will step off.
Because I am a Black woman, absolutely no one in my family reminisces fondly about nicer yesteryears in America. So a “return to civility” at the cost of truth-telling escapes me. I don’t long for some fantastical time when, in back rooms without women and with whiskey, laws were hashed out. There has never been a time when we got a seat at the self-determination table by being sweet and docile. Redressing injustice requires agitation. Change generates friction.
For anyone in doubt, the January 6 hearings have confirmed that America’s biggest problem is not incivility. Our problem is that a well-funded, white nationalist, authoritarian minority is determined to use lies, propaganda, corruption and violence to overthrow duly elected officials and turn Americans against one another. They are also using philanthropy. They abhor democracy and work for minority rule and power. That is the rot at the core of the dissolution of our democracy. Attempts to bridge with or mollify those forces embolden them. And that goes for not only the Oath Keepers on the ground, but also the well-dressed foundations that fund them.
But how can you be against finding common ground?
Don’t get me wrong — bridging with people different from ourselves is an essential skill in healthy communities and a functioning democracy. Bridging is not a goal in itself, but it can be a powerful process toward building a multiracial, inclusive democracy. However, I have repeatedly heard of bridge-building funder tables requiring that hand-picked BIPOC nonprofit leaders swallow their demands and instead demonstrate endless affability in the hope of winning funds from these opaque donor formations.
Fellow funders, throw out the playbooks that say we have to meet in the middle and focus instead on bridging with people who are trying to move the middle toward justice. If you are in a room where surface agreement is more important than fighting against racism, standing up for women’s rights, insisting on fair wages for hard work, and demanding truth-telling about our leaders and elections, you need to get up and find another room.
A recent example of truth-telling as a tool for finding common ground is Kansas. Not long ago, strategists opined that abortion and reproductive justice were too divisive. Yet weeks ago, organizers like Libra grantee URGE produced a resounding pro-choice win. They reached out to young and angry and never-registered folks. They reached out to Trump and Biden supporters as well as a huge number of “decline to states.” They talked about what was at stake in their state. They offered a vision for collective action to stop women’s rights being taken away. They used sophisticated data analysis and old-fashioned door-knocking to create a resounding win.
Community organizers are skilled listeners, bridgers and engagers. They bring a vision for where we can go together and provide people with a place to join others in that pursuit: Community Change, People’s Action, Poor People’s Campaign, National Domestic Workers Alliance, Climate and Clean Energy Equity Fund, State Voices, Native Voices Rising, Florida Rising Together, NDN Collective, Southern Movement Assembly, Black Voters Matter, Afiya Center and Texas Organizing Project, to name a few. Philanthropy can join these activists’ tables instead of whitewashing dissent or creating “shared goals” that maintain the status quo.
Taking a stand for what is right by definition excludes being on the same team as those who champion wrongdoing. Climate philanthropy wasted decades requiring environmentalists and oil and gas executives to get together to “find common ground” only recently to realize those endless commissions were part of the industry’s strategy to delay change. Donors who fund and/or refuse to eschew far-right extremists are following the same playbook and democracy philanthropy runs the risk of being played by the same fiddler.
When we listen to real talk, not homogenized niceties, we grow the power to create change together. Community organizers are on the front lines of repairing our broken democracy. They are the listeners in community who are willing to engage issues that matter to build bold solutions. The bridges they build take us to a better shore. Philanthropy, let’s go there together.
Crystal Hayling is the executive director of the Libra Foundation and convener of the Democracy Frontlines Fund, a donor table created in the wake of the racial uprising to defend democracy and support Black-led organizing.