Stories and Updates

At Black Future Co-op Fund, we know that Black artistry is more than just a form of expression—it’s a lifeline. In this piece, co-architect and Interim Managing Director Andrea Caupain-Saunderson discusses how BFCF supports the arts because of its vitality to Black survival, resistance, and joy

When we look at the history of Black philanthropy, culture, and activism, we see its roots throughout all facets of the diaspora. We see hallmarks of our shared traditions through holidays like “Kwanzaa”, a borrowed word from Kiswahili which signifies the start of something new. We see it within the intricate hairstyles found in Black communities across the globe, a signifier of our varied culture and a symbol of colonial resistance.

The history of Black resistance is not complete without examining the trailblazers who authored our story.

From August 27th to 29th, Black Future Co-op Fund hosted its grantees at the Snoqualmie Tribe’s Salish Lodge for a multi-day retreat focused on connection, rest, and imagination. Event organizer Morgan Dawson describes her vision and experience throughout the retreat.

The story of Black history in the United States has always been one of struggle, brilliance, and survival–all in spite of deliberate erasure. Despite every attempt to erase us, our histories endure.

We are witnessing a full-on attack on data, research, and knowledge. As we honor our embodied community wisdom, we know and understand that data is an important tool to offer necessary context and clarity about the society we inhabit. 

We are excited to announce our latest cohort of We See You grantees! When we built the Fund in 2020, we didn’t aspire to do philanthropy the Eurocentric way. We wanted to do it Blackly— focusing on community wisdom, healing, and relationships.

In Black communities, the act of mothering has always extended beyond biology. It is a practice rooted in care, protection, and collective responsibility — a radical form of love that emerges not just from family ties, but from communal bonds.

This morning, as I stepped outside my door, I found a dead sparrow lying still on the earth. I paused, caught off guard by the smallness of it, the surprise of it, the quietness of the moment. Elders have taught me that when we see something dead, it means its medicine or symbolic power has been fully incorporated.

For generations, Black communities have turned to cooperative economics as a means of survival, resistance, and self-determination. We take this moment to reflect on the history of cooperatives, and the impact that they hold in our present day.