The questions we’re asking ourselves after the ABFE Annual Conference

Left to right: California Black Freedom Fund Executive Director Marc Philpart, Community Foundation for a Greater Richmond Vice President of Diversity & Engagement Stephanie Glenn, and Black Future Co-op Fund Director of Partner Engagement & Investment Shona Carter at the ABFE Annual Conference.

The Association of Black Foundation Executives (ABFE) emerged in the early 1970s at a time where Black people across the country were confronting structural violence seen in increasing unemployment and narrative violence seen in the media's deliberate "ghettoization" of our people, all while working towards better outcomes in and for our communities. The organization rallied around the necessity of community investment at the time, building the capacity of Black professionals in the philanthropic community and supporting their impact. Since then, and throughout America's changing political climate, ABFE has remained focused on effective and responsive philanthropy in Black communities, evolving into an influential network known for fostering the knowledge-building and knowledge-sharing that gets us to Black well-being nationally.

The ABFE Annual Conference last month was yet another expression of their mission and impact. Our team was honored to share space with others equally dedicated to supporting our people and our communities across the globe. This year's conference, themed 'Harambee,' which means 'pull together' in Kiswahili, amplified the stories, tactics, and proverbs our ancestors left us — the ones we intermingle into our strategies and lean on to instruct our collective work. The conference provided generative forums for critical discussion, and we left Raleigh, North Carolina, invigorated and inspired to think expansively about our community-led and trust-based philanthropic work.

As our team continues to reflect, we invite other Black philanthropic and nonprofit leaders to lean into embodying the learnings that surfaced at the gathering by stirring on these three questions we're asking ourselves:

How are we disrupting harmful narratives about who we serve?

Narratives informed not just by media but by the books we read, the curricula we learn in school, the stories we tell each other, and the art we create all shape what we believe to be true. At the ABFE Annual Conference, this theme was echoed in sessions calling attention to how narrative violence has been felt by our people and in our work, enabling structural harm and endorsing a devaluation of our brilliance.

While we share in the work of building Black narrative power, in line with Media 2070's envisioning of media reparations, each of us needs to question how the programming we've all been subject to may show up in our philanthropic work and how we can each be proactive in developing systems — internal and external — that disrupt it.

At the Black Future Co-op Fund, our work has never been to 'save' anyone. We work for and with Black Washingtonians, investing in those with the lived experience and wisdom to shape the solutions their community needs. The four Black women who architected the Fund consciously put forth a new model for philanthropy, choosing to leverage trust to fuel investment and transformation. We refute the mental models we were given about our people and us each time we employ this trust-based approach in our grantmaking. We call our grants 'We See You' grants because we see each Black Washingtonian's work to support our liberation and choose to pour into them as partners since we are in this together. By centering trust in the community-building process and working to undo the rigidness typically imposed by white funders, we disrupt narratives about the capability of those we serve and support, acting only as a conduit of resources and an amplifier of their genius.

What language are we using to describe the harm and the people impacted by it?

In the larger world of philanthropy, people are defined by their problems and vulnerabilities rather than their strengths. This deficit framing has long been regarded as a means to an end and excusable if it brings in more resources for communities ”in need.”

Our team wholeheartedly rejects this. Simply put, the language we use to relay a community's story or describe structural harm matters because it makes invisible the root causes of the issues, resulting in misplaced, misguided, and misappropriated interventions.

As Black philanthropic leaders, we navigate a precious tension when describing how things are and how things could be. On the one hand, we always want to be forward-thinking like panelist and CEO of FutureGood Studio Trista Harris implored us to be, claiming all the possibilities our ancestors dreamt for us plus the ones we're working to realize for future generations. On the other, we're dedicated to speaking truth to power, refusing to sanitize the harm imparted on our communities past and present, or mince the words in naming it.

We left the gathering reminded that this dynamic interplay is ever present in our philanthropic work, which means the question of how we're describing the harm is an iterative one that we'll always be asking when screening the language we use to secure better outcomes alongside Black Washingtonians. Our communities are worth the intention and thoroughness.

Are we dreaming big enough?

Possibility was an overarching theme felt and was reflected on at each of the sessions.

Nomzana Augustin suggested 'Greenbook for Philanthropy,' which could help Black communities quickly identify which funders are walking the talk. Tricia Harris nudged us to think futuristically about today's clues on how to prepare for a changing world. And, we left radically inspired to set aspirations that boldly envision what our fund could look like and what our global community of Black philanthropists can look like 30, 50, 100 years from now.

An idea sparked about merging all Black funds across the nation created in 2020. This would increase our collective infrastructure and power to amplify truthful narratives as an antidote to philanthropic redlining. It would also build sustainability in preparation for the nation's discussions about reparations for Black people. After conversations with people doing amazing work at the California Freedom Fund and the Pittsburgh Community Foundation, we're energized at the possibility of this idea existing in the world one day.

Just like the early architects of ABFE, who were courageous in envisioning new ways of doing and being in the face of the shifting world, we step up to the challenge of imagining innovative ways to harness our collective brilliance and communal love in service to our liberation. Keep up with the work of ABFE by following them on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Linkedin, and YouTube. We can't wait to see everyone at next year’s ABFE Annual Conference!