True Leadership in Philanthropy: When History Calls, Will We Answer?
Leadership isn't measured by the size of our endowments, but by our courage to act when the moment demands it. As we approach a potential shift in federal leadership, the philanthropic sector faces a critical moment that demands immediate and decisive action. While many foundations have embraced trust-based philanthropy and unrestricted funding models in recent years, these steps—though important—are merely the beginning of what our sector must do to protect and empower communities in need.
The looming threat of HR 9495 should serve as a wake-up call to philanthropic leaders. This legislation's potential to strip organizations of their 501(c)(3) status represents an unprecedented challenge to the nonprofit sector's ability to serve marginalized communities. The bill's broad language and vague criteria for revoking tax-exempt status could be wielded as a tool to silence organizations working with and advocating for minoritized populations.
We in philanthropy must recognize that our traditional approaches—careful deliberation, multi-year planning cycles, and risk-averse grant-making—are ill-suited to this moment. Organizations serving marginalized communities need substantial resources now to build resilience against potential regulatory challenges and strengthen their operational capacity before these changes take effect.
The stakes couldn't be higher. Community organizations are already struggling to maintain services while navigating increasingly complex political and social landscapes. Many operate on razor-thin margins, leaving them vulnerable to any disruption in funding streams or increased regulatory burden. The potential loss of 501(c)(3) status would be catastrophic not just for these organizations, but for the communities that rely on their services and advocacy.
Foundations sitting on billions in endowments must ask themselves: What are we waiting for? The traditional philanthropic model of preserving capital for future generations assumes a stable democratic framework that protects civil society. That assumption is increasingly questionable. Organizations need substantial funding before year-end to secure their operations, strengthen their governance, and build legal defense funds. Waiting until 2025 to make these critical grants could leave organizations scrambling to adapt amid a changed regulatory landscape. The time to deploy these resources is now, when they can help fortify community organizations against coming challenges and give them the breathing room to prepare thoughtfully rather than react in crisis mode.
This means moving beyond incremental increases in grant-making. Foundations should consider:
Dramatically increasing payout rates well above the required 5% minimum
Providing multi-year unrestricted funding that allows organizations to build robust operational and legal capacity
Establishing rapid response funds that can quickly address emerging threats to community organizations
Creating legal defense funds to help organizations navigate potential challenges to their tax-exempt status
Trust-based philanthropy principles remain vital—organizations closest to communities know best how to serve them. But trust must be paired with urgency and scale. Every dollar held back in endowments is a dollar unavailable to help organizations prepare for coming challenges.
The philanthropic sector often speaks of addressing root causes and systemic change. The potential erosion of nonprofit organizations' ability to serve marginalized communities represents a systemic threat that demands an immediate response. We cannot wait to see how political changes play out while holding resources in reserve.
With mere weeks left in 2024, foundations have a rapidly closing window to make transformative grants that could determine the survival of crucial community organizations. Year-end giving isn't just about meeting payout requirements—it's about giving organizations the runway they need to adapt and build resilience before potential regulatory changes take effect. Every day of delay reduces organizations' ability to prepare. Every foundation board meeting that postpones decisive action diminishes the impact we could have had. The time for bold action is now. By this time next year, it may be too late.
Dreaming Beyond Boundaries: Leadership Lessons in Black Freedom Innovation
As the co-founder and Chief Visionary Officer of the Youth Mentoring Action Network, the past three years have taught me that freedom dreaming isn't just an aspirational exercise—it's a revolutionary act of leadership. While philanthropy often claims to seek innovative leaders, the reality is that true innovation requires both audacious vision and substantial resources. For Black women leaders working alongside communities of color, freedom dreaming isn't just about innovation—it's about survival, transformation, and the radical imagination of what could be.
The pressure to conform, to tone down our visions, to "get in line" with conventional nonprofit models is constant and intense. Funders may say they want innovation, but their actions often reveal a preference for safe, predictable programs that fit neatly into existing boxes. Yet, as Black leaders, we must resist the urge to shrink our dreams to fit within these prescribed boundaries. Our communities deserve more than incremental change; they deserve revolutionary transformation.
In our organization's journey, this commitment to freedom dreaming manifested in what many considered an impossible vision: the acquisition and transformation of a one-acre estate into a youth sanctuary. This wasn't just about purchasing property; it was about creating a possibility model that challenges traditional youth work paradigms while demonstrating what Black leadership can achieve when unbound by conventional limitations.
This estate, which we call The Youth Power Hub, represents more than beautiful grounds and buildings—it's a physical embodiment of our freedom dreams. It's a space where young people from our communities can experience luxury, peace, and unlimited potential. In a world where Black and Brown youth are often confined to underfunded spaces, we've created an environment that says, "You deserve beauty. You deserve space. You deserve to dream without boundaries."
The journey to acquire and curate this space wasn't easy. We faced skepticism from traditional funders who questioned whether such an "ambitious" project was necessary for youth work. We encountered resistance from those who believed that nonprofits, particularly those led by people of color, should operate from a scarcity mindset rather than one of abundance. Yet, we persisted because we understood that freedom dreaming requires not just imagination but action—even when that action seems impossible by conventional standards.
The Youth Power Hub has become more than a physical space; it's a testament to what's possible when Black leaders refuse to conform to limited expectations. It's a model for other leaders of color who dare to dream beyond the constraints of traditional nonprofit frameworks. Our young people don't just visit a beautiful space; they witness firsthand what becomes possible when leaders who look like them dare to dream and execute boldly.
To my fellow Black leaders and leaders of color: Keep dreaming audaciously. When philanthropy suggests you should scale back your vision, dream bigger. When conventional wisdom says your ideas are too ambitious, lean into that ambition. Our communities have always thrived through our ability to imagine and create new realities, even in the face of limitation and opposition.
The work of freedom dreaming isn't just about creating new programs or spaces—it's about fundamentally reshaping what's possible in our field. It's about showing future generations of leaders that they don't have to choose between serving their communities and dreaming big. They can, and should, do both.
Our Youth Power Hub stands as proof that freedom dreams can become reality, even in a sector that often seems designed to limit rather than liberate. It's a reminder that true innovation in Black leadership isn't just about new programs or services—it's about creating new possibilities, new models, and new ways of thinking about what our communities deserve.
For those of us engaged in this work, the challenge is clear: continue dreaming, continue building, and continue pushing the boundaries of what's possible. Because in the end, our freedom dreams aren't just about us—they're about creating new realities for generations to come.
Leadership Lessons: The Perfection Trap in Nonprofit Leadership
As the co-founder and chief visionary officer of the Youth Mentoring Action Network, I recently experienced a rollercoaster of emotions following our annual fundraiser, the Sneaker Gala. While the event was largely a success, I found myself fixating on the imperfections, allowing them to overshadow the numerous triumphs of the night. This experience led me to reflect on the immense pressure leaders face to achieve perfection and how this pressure can be particularly crushing for Black women leaders and leaders of color.
As the co-founder and chief visionary officer of the Youth Mentoring Action Network, I recently experienced a rollercoaster of emotions following our annual fundraiser, the Sneaker Gala. While the event was largely a success, I found myself fixating on the imperfections, allowing them to overshadow the numerous triumphs of the night. This experience led me to reflect on the immense pressure leaders face to achieve perfection and how this pressure can be particularly crushing for Black women leaders and leaders of color.
The morning after our gala, I woke up with a heaviness in my chest that I couldn't shake. Despite the smiling faces, the generous donations, and the palpable energy of the night before, my mind kept replaying the moments that didn't go according to plan. The technical glitch during our speaking program, the last-minute cancellation of a high-profile guest, the missed opportunity to send people to the merch table – these "failures" loomed large in my consciousness, eclipsing the overwhelmingly positive feedback we'd received.
This fixation on imperfections is a common struggle for leaders, but it takes on a different weight for Black women leaders and other leaders of color. We often feel we're not just representing ourselves or our organizations, but our entire communities. The pressure to be flawless is intensified by the knowledge that any misstep could reinforce negative stereotypes or jeopardize hard-won opportunities.
The morning after our gala, I woke up with a heaviness in my chest that I couldn't shake. Despite the smiling faces, the generous donations, and the palpable energy of the night before, my mind kept replaying the moments that didn't go according to plan. The technical glitch during our speaking program, the last-minute cancellation of a high-profile guest, the missed opportunity to send people to the merch table – these "failures" loomed large in my consciousness, eclipsing the overwhelmingly positive feedback we'd received.
This fixation on imperfections is a common struggle for leaders, but it takes on a different weight for Black women leaders and other leaders of color. We often feel we're not just representing ourselves or our organizations, but our entire communities. The pressure to be flawless is intensified by the knowledge that any misstep could reinforce negative stereotypes or jeopardize hard-won opportunities.
The concept of perfectionism is deeply rooted in white supremacist culture. It sets an impossible standard that disproportionately affects Black women, people of color, and Queer folks who often have to work twice as hard to be considered half as good. In the nonprofit world, where financial resources and community reputation are constantly at stake, this pressure is amplified. We feel that failing isn't an option because the consequences extend far beyond our personal careers.
However, this pursuit of perfection is not only unrealistic but also detrimental to our growth as leaders and the development of our organizations. It stifles creativity, discourages risk-taking, and creates a culture of fear rather than innovation. Moreover, it sets an unhealthy example for the very youth we aim to mentor and empower.
The concept of perfectionism is deeply rooted in white supremacist culture. It sets an impossible standard that disproportionately affects Black women, people of color, and Queer folks who often have to work twice as hard to be considered half as good. In the nonprofit world, where financial resources and community reputation are constantly at stake, this pressure is amplified. We feel that failing isn't an option because the consequences extend far beyond our personal careers.
However, this pursuit of perfection is not only unrealistic but also detrimental to our growth as leaders and the development of our organizations. It stifles creativity, discourages risk-taking, and creates a culture of fear rather than innovation. Moreover, it sets an unhealthy example for the very youth we aim to mentor and empower.
As I reflected on my post-gala blues, I realized that by focusing on the imperfections, I was discounting the incredible achievements of our team and the positive impact we had made. The young speaker who overcame his nervousness to deliver a powerful testimony, the unexpected connection made between a donor and a young person, the volunteer who went above and beyond to ensure every guest felt welcome – these were the true measures of our success.
It's time for us as leaders, especially Black women leaders, to challenge this perfection paradigm. We need to embrace a more holistic view of success, one that values progress over perfection, resilience over flawlessness. This doesn't mean lowering our standards or accepting mediocrity. Rather, it means recognizing that imperfections and setbacks are not just inevitable but are often the stepping stones to greater achievements.
Moving forward, I commit to being more transparent about our challenges as well as our successes. By sharing our vulnerabilities and lessons learned, we can create a more authentic and supportive leadership culture. We can show that true strength lies not in being infallible, but in how we respond to and grow from our missteps.
To my fellow leaders, particularly those who are Black women: Let's give ourselves permission to be imperfect. Let's celebrate our efforts, learn from our mistakes, and remember that our worth is not determined by flawless execution but by the positive change we strive to create in the world. In doing so, we can free ourselves from the perfection trap and lead with greater authenticity, creativity, and impact.