August Blog: Last Day of Black Philanthropy Month

As we close out Black Philanthropy Month (at least we get a full 31 days unlike the other month
designated for us to celebrate our history), but I digress. Side note – if I’m being really honest,
prior to writing this blog, I wasn’t even sure of the origins of Black Philanthropy Month and what
its purpose was/is. For those out there like me – here’s what I learned: Black Philanthropy Month
was created in 2011 by Dr. Jackie Bouvier Copeland and the Pan-African Women's
Philanthropy Network. It’s an annual, global celebration of African-descent giving. So essentially
it’s a time for us to /celebrate how we – as Black people – give, which oftentimes looks very
different from what mainstream traditional philanthropic giving looks like. I digress again – that’s
for another blog.
What I’ve been thinking a lot about lately is what it means to be a Black practitioner or
professional working within the field of philanthropy. What are the extra responsibilities we carry
as we work to move resources to Black-led organizations and communities of color? As a self-
proclaimed “recovering funder” (Thank you, Dr. Janelle Williams, Co-Founder and CEO of the
Atlanta Wealth Building Initiative for letting me borrow that term), I often think about the
challenges that come with being Black and in philanthropy. Yes – it comes with its privileges –
access to rooms, access to resources (resources we’re almost always reminded of that don’t
belong to us), access to information, and social capital. But navigating the philanthropic field also
comes with a great deal of responsibility. The responsibility of deciding who gets what and how
much of these limited resources that aren’t our own, which often translates into deciding who
doesn’t get something or anything. This process of picking and choosing which non-profit
leaders of color to elevate and build a deeper relationship with isn’t easy. In fact, it immediately
thrusts you into a position of power and hierarchical ranking – a place that we all fundamentally
know doesn’t feel right. Hell, if it were up to me (and if the resources were mine), I’d give out as
much and as often as possible – few questions asked. Simply based on the fact that I
understand our history and know that this country was built on the backs of free Black labor. So
there’s much repair and replenishing that needs to happen. No questions asked! But I digress
again, because it’s not my money, so I often find myself having to make difficult decisions – ones
that don’t always feel right when I think about how to best support and help my own Black
people and communities. Because the truth of the matter is, those often closest to the ground
doing the work within our communities are often not the ones “presentable” to our trustees.
Then it becomes an exploration of – which organizations and leaders – do I think can pass
muster? Who can I sneak by them? Which ones can I convince my board and trustees to invest
in? And then it’s up to me – as the middle woman (aka “gatekeeper”) – to deepen the relationship
with that leader of color to help them navigate what it means to be in partnership with a
traditional funder. Which then leads me to think about what it means to hold someone
accountable with love or in a way that allows for missteps but grace? How do I allow this Black
leader to show up as their authentic self and allow them to remain that way without having to
shape-shift in order to convince my trustees that they’re worthy of resources? When you pause

to think about it, and I’ve had 5 years out of the field to reflect, it’s not an easy place to be. It’s
nuanced and fraught with challenges and complexities. And I suspect that for those of us who
stay in the field long enough, we get weary and tired of “having to make the case.” I don’t have
any easy answers for my Brothers and Sisters in the field, but I do know that without you/us
there at the table – we’d likely be even further behind…or would we? But I digress, that’s for
another blog: What ways do we as Black people hold white supremacy in place because some
of us are beneficiaries of the perceived privileges it brings? Maybe I’ll tackle that topic next
time.