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EXPANDING IN THE 1990'S
National Committee for
Responsive Philanthropy
COMMUNITY FOUNDATIONS AND CITIZEN EMPOWERMENT:
LIMITED SUPPORT FOR DEMOCRATIC RENEWAL
A Working Paper
by
Sally Covington
The National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy
2001 S Street, NW
Suite 620
Washington, DC 20009
December, 1994
2001 S Street, N.W. #620 Washington, D.C. 20009 (202) 387-9177 FAX (202) 332-5084
Introduction
Little available data exist on the extent to which philanthropy contributes to the
amelioration of social and economic disadvantage through grant support of citizen
empowerment and social action projects. This question assumes increasing importance
in light of the long-term growth of income inequality and the thirty year decline in voter
turnout and other forms of political participation in the United States. Recent census
data show that the top fifth of American households now earn 48.2 percent of the
nation's income (up from 44 percent in 1938) while the bottom fifth earns only 3.6
percent (down from 5 percent in 1988). This magnitude of inequality not only
undermines the social basis for effective citizenship, it also distorts the democratic
process by creating and sustaining differentials in political power and policy influence.
The long-term decline in voter and other forms of political participation both
reflects and compounds the problem of political inequality. It has been well documented
that middle and upper income citizens, for example, register and vote at significantly
higher levels than do lower income citizens. There is a similar class-based disparity in
other forms of political involvement, including such activities as working for a political
party or candidate, contacting elected officials, or contributing money [Verba and Nie,
1972; Rosenstone and Hansen, 1993]. Moreover, despite the proliferation of public
interest organizations since the 1960s, the choir of interests groups, particularly in the
nation's capital but also at the state and local levels, continues to sing with "an upper
class accent," as Schattschneider observed over three decades ago [1960]. With the
decline in political parties and the current partisan fight for the political center,
Schattschneider's belief in the ability of political parties to counteract the power of
private interests seems increasingly less relevant, or possible, in today's political
environment. In light of these trends, the imperfections of American democracy appear
more likely to grow than to diminish in the years ahead.
Despite the pessimism that such trends can produce, however, people acting
together to solve problems has successfully demonstrated the importance of citizenship
for responsive institutions. both public and private. The democratic importance of civic
engagement and citizen action has been demonstrated through the work of such scholars
as Robert Putnam [1993]; Berry, Portney and Thomson [1993]; and others. Putnam, for
example, convincingly shows that differences in the effectiveness and responsiveness of
Italian regional governments are explained by the amount of "social capital" that is
produced over generations through civic engagement and voluntarism. Closer to home,
Berry, Portney and Thomson demonstrate that. contrary to the fear that citizen action
will produce policy gridlock or system overload, strong systems of participation actually
work to increase citizen confidence in government and enhance their sense of
community. Indeed. an increasing body of empirical and theoretical work strongly
suggests the wisdom of encouraging the active participation of citizens in the public
domain to set directions, establish priorities, and frame solutions.
Some in the philanthropic sector who are alarmed about the nation's growing
income inequality and the state of American democracy have argued that the most
important role that philanthropy can play is to nurture democratic practices through a
commitment to citizen empowerment, particularly in low income communities
1
[Rabinowitz, 1990; Johnson, 1983; Asher, 1977; Carey, 1977]. Others have argued that
American philanthropy has been at its best and most socially relevant when it has
encouraged the public sector to meet individual needs rather than seeking to meet these
needs itself [Bremmer, 1977]. Empirical research on philanthropic support of citizen
empowerment and social action projects, however, is lacking. A contributing factor is
the fact that, by definitional fiat, philanthropy has largely been regarded as a positive
force in American society and therefore above scrutiny [Colwell, 1993].
This paper explores the relationship between American philanthropy and
democracy through an examination of the grant commitments of ten major community
foundations to low income citizen empowerment and community action projects. It does
so out of a belief that democratic renewal depends on citizen action, particularly in low
income and other disenfranchised constituencies, and that this type of grantmaking ought
to be a fundamental priority of grantmaking institutions concerned with social justice.
Background on Community Foundations
By law, community foundations are publicly supported philanthropic
institutions, governed by volunteer citizen boards and established to collect and
distribute gifts for community benefit. Recognized as public charities under the Internal
Revenue code, community foundations and their donors receive the greatest tax
advantages under U.S. tax law and are among the least regulated segments of the
philanthropic sector. Because of their status as publicly-supported, public-serving, and
community-based organizations, leaders of the movement celebrate community
foundations as uniquely able to respond to emerging community issues and needs.
The nation's first community foundation, located in Cleveland, Ohio, was
founded in 1914. Its founder, Frederick H. Goff, regarded the Cleveland Foundation as a
new type of philanthropic institution. Its hallmark would be the building of a permanent
collection of funds for community improvement and the separation of charitable giving
from charitable disbursements as a way to prevent the gifts of deceased donors from
becoming obsolete due to changing community circumstances. Thus, contributors to the
Cleveland Foundation agreed to allow the diversion of their charitable gifts by the
Foundation's distributions committee if these gifts no longer met or served community
purposes [Sugarman, 1977]. It was in this sense that Goff regarded the community
foundation as "an agency making philanthropy more effective and for cutting off as
much as is harmful of the dead past from the living present and unborn future"
[Hammack, 1989]. The Cleveland Foundation was also specifically established to play a
larger role in identifying and responding to community needs through community
surveys, demonstration projects, and policy initiatives. Within six weeks after the
Cleveland Foundation was founded, Goff unwrapped his plan for the Foundation to
conduct "a great social and economic survey of Cleveland. to uncover the causes of
poverty and crime and point out the cure" [ quoted in Tittle, 1992, p. 45].
Since the Cleveland Foundation was established. the community foundation
movement has spread to all parts of the United States. enjoying particularly strong
growth before the Great Depression. during the 1940s and 1950s. and since 1980. In
2
fact, community foundations were among the fastest growing segments of American
philanthropy in the 1980s, largely as a result of U.S. tax policy which gave preferential
treatment to community foundations by designating them as public charities under the
1969 Tax Reform Act. In effect, the Act made it more advantageous for wealthy donors
to contribute to community foundations rather than to establish their own private
foundations. By the end of the 1980s, community foundations represented just one
percent of the total foundation universe, but accounted for 5.4 percent of all grant dollars
awarded, 10 percent of all gifts received, and 4.4 percent of all foundation assets. A
survey conducted by the Council on Foundations to mark the 75th anniversary of the
community foundation movement showed that community foundation assets grew from
$1.1 billion in 1975 to $4.7 billion in 1987 [Council on Foundations, 1989]. Survey data
collected in 1991 showed continued asset growth, with 196 community foundations
reporting a total of $5.9 billion.
Today, data compiled by the Columbus (Ohio) Foundation indicate that the total
asset base of the community foundation sector may be as high as $9.7 billion dollars,
with an estimated $750 million in grants distributed in 1993. Clearly, community
foundations have become large and growing resources for the benefit of their
communities.
Study Methodology
This examination of community foundation support for citizen empowerment
and social action projects is part of a broader study to assess the level of community
foundations' responsiveness to low income and historically disenfranchised groups in
American society. Ten of the largest community foundations in the country were
selected for examination, including those in Atlanta, Boston, Chicago, Cleveland, Dallas,
Denver, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, San Diego, and Seattle. All of these foundations
ranked among the top fifty nationally in terms of the market value of their assets at the
time they were studied. In 1993, the size of their assets ranged from the Cleveland
Foundation's $740 million to the Denver Foundation's $42 million. The community
foundations were selected to represent different geographic regions of the country and
for the relative emphasis they gave either to fund raising or to grantmaking.
For purposes of the study, the disenfranchised were broadly defined to include
the poor, racial and ethnic minority groups, women, the disabled, and other victims of
discrimination. Based on this definition, each community foundation was asked to
categorize all grants awarded primarily to benefit the disenfranchised for the latest fiscal
year for which it had full grants data. In addition to identifying all grants awarded to
benefit the disenfranchised. each foundation was asked to place its disenfranchised
grants into one of four categories related to the governance arrangements and mission of
recipient organizations. These four categories included: grants to organizations
controlled by the disenfranchised; grants to organizations whose primary purpose is to
benefit the disenfranchised: grants awarded primarily to benefit the disenfranchised; and
grants that do not fit into one of the above three categories, but which have a substantial
impact on or significance for the disenfranchised.
3
The grants information supplied by the foundations provided the data for a
quantitative analysis of their responsiveness to disenfranchised people, in general, and to
disenfranchised-controlled organizations, in particular. A more qualitative examination
of their funding patterns and community roles was conducted via an extensive
community interviewing process, as well as a review and content analysis of foundation
public relations and communications materials. Individuals interviewed for this study
were identified through a process of snowball sampling, and included community
foundation board and staff members, other representatives of the local philanthropic
community, representatives of disenfranchised groups, and officials from the public
and/or academic sectors, where appropriate. Attention was paid during the interview
process to obtain a broad cross section of disenfranchised representatives in terms of
race, ethnicity, disability, gender, sexual orientation, income/class level, issue focus, size
and mission of organization, neighborhood/city location, and relationship to the
community foundation under investigation (e.g., former or current grant recipient,
rejected applicant, nongrantee, etc.).
In total, 584 interviews were conducted, each averaging an hour in length. The
interviews were loosely structured to elicit as much information as possible, but were
organized around eight key assessment areas. These included: pattern of giving, risk
taking in the foundations' grantmaking and community roles, services offered to
strengthen nonprofits' capacity and long-term viability, communications activities and
materials, community leadership and catalytic roles, fund raising policies and programs,
board and staff composition, and distinguishing foundation characteristics. This paper
concentrates on the level of foundation support for citizen empowerment and social
action activities in or on behalf of low income and other disenfranchised communities.
Study Findings
Community Foundation Purposes: The Absence of a Democratic Lexicon. A review of
the community foundations' annual reports, funding guidelines, and other
communications materials revealed little focus on citizen action or empowerment as
important to the long term health and well-being of the community. Indeed, democracy
seems to have remained a word unspoken among community foundation officials,
leaving the impression of significant disregard for the idea that collective action,
particularly by low income citizens is or could be an important resource for community
problem-solving and regeneration. When this research was begun, only the Philadelphia
Foundation was found to have placed citizen empowerment at the very center of its
grantmaking program. This emphasis has continued, with the Foundation's most recent
annual report stating the following:
Our service to the community is based on the visions and dreams of our donors
-- people who share a concern for the future and who are not satisfied with
short-term solutions As a Foundation, we have been respected for our
support of community-based organizations, whose work empowers people in
low income neighborhoods to take a leadership role in the projects, decisions
and solutions that affect their lives. We believe that the constituents of these
communities are our most vital resource in achieving social and economic
well-being.
4
The Foundation goes on to state that the Board of Managers gives highest priority to
"low-budget, constituency-controlled" organizations, with first priority given to
organizations that benefit low income, African-American. or Latino communities;
involve constituents in making organizational decisions. setting policies and evaluating
programs; and have operating budgets of under $1.5 million [the Philadelphia
Foundation, 1992/93, P 26]. These priorities cut across or apply to all eight of the
Foundation's funding categories.
In recent years, however, the Boston Foundation has come to be as equally clear
and explicit about its citizen empowerment commitments. Its 1993 Annual Report opens
with an Equity and Diversity Policy Statement, which begins by stating that the
Foundation "actively seeks to promote access, equity and diversity" and "to end
discrimination based on race, ethnicity, gender and other socioeconomic factors." The
report goes on to state that central to the Foundation's work is "the promotion of
community-building strategies that help children and their families overcome poverty."
Consequently, the Boston Foundation's 1993 grant guidelines indicate that it will support
programs that: 1) engage and respond to the ideas of people in poverty in ways that
support their participation in their own development and their contributions to
community life; 2) leverage the Foundation's limited grant budget by bringing
community resources to bear on community needs in new ways; and 3) work to assure
fundamental opportunities to all community members through advocacy, organizing and
leadership development efforts that form new alliances to fight poverty [ emphasis added
p. 48].
These statements convey a strong commitment to the participation of low
income citizens in community affairs and the decisions which affect their lives. None of
the other community foundations studied came close to this level of commitment to
citizen action as a longer term remedy for critical community problems. Indeed, the
communications materials of these foundations reflect a much more traditional
philanthropy, with mission statements that define their roles in terms of general
community uplift through giving to a variety of charitable causes. Very typical is the
statement of purpose found in the 1993 annual report of the Communities Foundation of
Texas, for example, which states that the Foundation's mission is to "fulfill community
requirements through the altruistic vision of its donors," or the Seattle Foundation's
statement that "eight men, blessed with comfortable incomes. were determined to share
their largess with those less fortunate. [with hundreds since joining] 10 ensure that a
charitable endowment exist in perpetuiry for the benefit of the citizens of the Puget
Sound region" [The Seattle Foundation, 1993].
The limited mention of citizen action in a couple of foundation annual reports
remains generally isolated under a specific program area, such as in Los Angeles where
an active citizenry and community leadership is one objective of its Civic Affairs
grantmaking. To the degree that the community foundations in their annual reports
focus on the poverty and discrimination that exist in their communities (uncommon
itself), it is done through the lens of extending a helping hand to the less fortunate. The
San Diego Foundation. for example. declares that in response to the those who are
hurting, many people "have stepped forward to offer [a helping hand] by feeding the
5
hungry, providing shelter for the homeless. educating the illiterate. finding jobs for the
jobless. exposing children to the arts and altogether improving the lives of San Diegans"
[The San Diego Foundation, 1994, p. 5].
Community Foundation Grants for the Disenfranchised. The best measure of
community foundation support for the empowerment of low income and disenfranchised
groups is the level of grant support it provides for projects that seek solutions to poverty
and discrimination through community organizing, leadership training, issue advocacy
and public policy initiatives. With little emphasis on citizen empowerment and social
action in their communications materials, it is not surprising to find limited grant support
of such projects for almost all of the foundations studied. Indeed, the level of
community foundation support for citizen empowerment projects and social action
organizations in low income and other disenfranchised communities was exceedingly
low.
To place this finding in fuller context, it is important to note that, despite the
extremes of poverty and wealth that exist in urban communities today, a majority of the
foundations studied did not give priority in their grantmaking, service activities, and
fund raising to low income and other disenfranchised groups. Five out of the ten
community foundations studied distributed, for example, less than $.30 of every grant
dollar primarily to benefit disenfranchised communities. Stated conversely. at least $.70
of every grant dollar awarded by the community foundations in Dallas. Seattle. Los
Angeles. Cleveland and Atlanta was distributed to organizations whose missions did not
include a primary focus on poor people or other disenfranchised groups. The San Diego
Foundation did slightly better, distributing 42 percent of its total grant allocations to
benefit the disenfranchised. Still, a majority of grant dollars went to support
organizations with no explicit mission to serve or relate to people most in need. Only
four of the community foundations targeted a majority of their grant dollars to benefit
low income people and other disenfranchised constituencies, with the Philadelphia
Foundation taking the lead at 77 percent, followed by the Boston Foundation (66%), the
Chicago Community Trust (66%), and the Denver Foundation (62%).
While four of the ten community foundations demonstrated a significant
commitment to benefit disenfranchised groups through their grant allocations. only two
of the ten articulated an explicit commitment to the principles of low income citizen
empowerment or inclusion in the problem-solving process. Most disenfranchised grants
were awarded to support traditional charitable endeavors rather than social change
activities [see Appendix I for a ranking of the community foundations in this assessment
area]. Thus, community foundation grants to benefit the disenfranchised might
commonly support community-based GED classes for high school drop outs but not
community-based advocacy or parent empowerment projects to improve the schools.
Similarly, community foundation grants might easily support a project to link homeless
families with needed social services but not a public policy or tenant advocacy project
designed to prevent homelessness in the first place.
Of the ten community foundations studied. the Philadelphia Foundation was the
only aggressive funder of citizen empowerment and social action projects. Following its
6
grantmaking priorities. the majority of its grants were awarded to support community-
based initiatives that sought change in poverty conditions through the organization and
involvement of community residents. None of the other foundations began to approach
the Philade!phia Foundation's level of support for citizen action in their grantmaking
programs. The Boston Foundation ranked second in its willingness to fund social action
and community empowerment projects. Still, at the time it was studied. the Foundation's
disenfranchised grants, though substantial, were overwhelmingly targeted to service-type
programs. The grantmaking of the Chicago Community Trust, ranked third in terms of
its willingness to fund "risky" projects related to citizen empowerment and social action,
exhibited a preference for legal advocacy (e.g. the advocacy of experts) over
community-based citizen action.
The other foundations very rarely funded projects designed to empower low
income and other disenfranchised citizens to act collectively on their own behalf or to
participate in their communities' problem-solving and agenda-setting processes.
Foundation funding patterns thus ignore the increasing body of evidence that low income
citizen participation not only contributes to democratic renewal by giving
underrepresented people a greater voice in the political process but also builds
community capacity to solve neighborhood problems and enhances the responsiveness of
both private and public institutions to new and emerging concerns.
Foundation Support of Disenfranchised-Controlled Organizations. In addition to grant
support of citizen action and social change projects, another measure of community
foundations' commitments to citizen empowerment is the level of funding for
organizations controlled by the disenfranchised themselves. Research has shown that
voluntary agencies, such as the community action programs of the 1960s, can function as
a leadership training ground for people previously excluded from or unrepresented in the
political process. It has also been shown that civic or voluntary participation tends to
reinforce itself - that is, the more individuals participate with others to get things done,
the more they are likely to participate in the future [McCourt, 1977]. We found,
however, limited community foundation support of disenfranchised-controlled
organizations. Indeed, nine out of the nine community foundations for whom this data
was collected awarded one third or less of their total disenfranchised grants to
organizations controlled by the disenfranchised themselves, indicating either a
remarkable reluctance to fund disenfranchised-controlled organizations or a remarkable
insensitivity to the fact that constituency-controlled organizations are likely to develop
services and projects more in line with community needs and priorities.
Eight of the nine community foundations awarded less than one in five of their
disenfranchised grant dollars to nonprofit groups controlled by the disenfranchised. The
Denver Foundation was ranked first in giving to disenfranchised-controlled
organizations, at 33%. Still, fully two-thirds of its disenfranchised grant dollars went to
organizations that were not controlled by the disenfranchised themselves. The Chicago
Community Trust and the Boston Foundation provided only 19 percent and 17 percent of
their total disenfranchised grants, respectively, to disenfranchised-controlled
organizations. even though a significant percentage of their total grant allocations
primarily benefitted the disenfranchised. These low percentages are all the more striking
due to the rich network of community-based citizen and advocacy organizations that
exists in each city.
7
The record of the other six community foundations in funding organizations
controlled by the disenfranchised. however, was worse. The Metropolitan Atlanta
Community Foundation awarded only 17 percent of its disenfranchised grants to
disenfranchised-controlled organizations, while the San Diego Foundation provided only
16 percent, the Seattle Foundation only 13 percent, the California Community
Foundation only 12 percent, the Cleveland Foundation only 8 percent, and the
Communities Foundation of Texas 0 percent. Thus, in eight out of the nine foundations
for whom these data were gathered, at least four out of every five grant dollars
- distributed for the primary benefit of low income groups, racial or ethnic minorities,
women, the disabled, lesbians or gay men, and other victims of discrimination was given
to organizations that were not controlled by these constituencies.
Community Foundations as Elite Institutions. Other findings relative to the governance,
management and leadership activities of foundations studied strongly suggest that they
currently function as elite (e.g. non-democratic) institutions, with little demonstrated
commitment to share decision making power or transfer authority to low income and
other disenfranchised groups. The foundations, for example, typically exercised
leadership in a manner that excluded the up front participation of low income and other
disenfranchised people in the formulation of new project initiatives or other foundation
activities. Most of the projects developed by community foundations to impact poverty
or discrimination were designed and implemented by people whose credentials, social
class, and occupational status would generally identify them as members of the
community elite (at least relative to those the projects are intended to assist).
The Chicago Community Trust provides a clear example of the foundations'
strong attraction to professionalism and expert authority. Its Children, Youth and
Families Initiative (CYFI), to which the Trust has committed $30 million over ten years,
is based on a new children's service delivery model whose principles were developed by
the Chapin Hall Center for Children at the University of Chicago. Under CYFI, the
Trust has identified eight communities as laboratories in which to implement the service
delivery changes deemed most important by Chapin Hall researchers. Community-based
organizations and agencies in each community were eligible to seek and expend Trust
grants under CYFI as long as they adhered to the reform principles that Chapin Hall
developed. A substantial evaluation grant was awarded to the Chapin Hall Center for the
purpose of evaluating implementation of its own model, without any mechanisms for
community oversight or review.
Almost all of the foundations also failed to engage the disenfranchised in a
meaningful and/or on-going dialogue about their concerns. As the above example
illustrates, community foundations' leadership activities were developed and
implemented largely in isolation from the people these initiatives were designed to
assist. The annual public meetings held by five of the community foundations studied
were not for the most part regarded as opportunities for general community dialogue,
much less for dialogue with low income and other disenfranchised groups. Further, the
community foundations themselves were generally governed. staffed and advised by
individuals whose race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation. income level or physical
capacities placed them at a significant remove from the problems that the poor and other
disenfranchised people confront on a daily basis.
8
From the perspective of racial diversity, the percentage of people of color on
community foundation boards ranged from 0 percent (the Communities Foundation of
Texas) to 44 percent (the Boston Foundation). People of color comprised less than 20
percent of the board members at six of the ten community foundations studied.
Foundation boards lacked diversity along other dimensions, as well. The majority of
board members were over the age of 50 and drawn from the business and banking
sectors. There also did not appear to be any representation of low income people or
grassroots community or neighborhood activists [see Appendix II for a race and gender
breakdown of both board and staff]:
Discussion and Conclusions
It is possible for community foundations to embrace citizen empowerment, or a
democratic ethic, in their grantmaking and other community roles. Both the Philadelphia
Foundation, over the 1980s, and the Boston Foundation, more recently, demonstrate that
community foundations can not only target resources to low income and other
disenfranchised groups, but also choose to build their social and political power as a way
to foster a more equitable and democratic society. "Choice" is a key word, as the Boston
Foundation case demonstrates. In 1988, the Foundation awarded only 28 percent of its
discretionary grants to benefit low income and other disenfranchised people. Two years
later, the Foundation distributed 66 percent of its total grant allocations to benefit these
groups, although its grantmaking still followed more traditional (e.g. service) funding
patterns. Today, the Foundation has adopted eight principles for a new social contract,
the more significant of which embrace the participation of low income citizens in
establishing priorities and defining solutions to improve the lives and opportunities of
their families and communities [see Appendix III].
The Boston Foundation's evolution toward citizen empowerment was launched
under the leadership of an African-American woman and accelerated through a
interactive process which involved the Foundation in active dialogue with
representatives of disenfranchised groups. This suggests the importance of on-going,
face-to-face interaction between foundation officials and disenfranchised community
members in the building of a new funding paradigm for greater responsiveness and
longer term change. It is this kind of interaction, however, which has been sorely
lacking in all other community foundations studied.
In the end, most of the community foundations included for examination have
remained wedded to an older tradition of charity care, to the extent that they gave to the
disenfranchised at all. Notwithstanding their rhetoric as grassroots organizations,
community foundations do not appear to behave all that differently from other
philanthropic institutions. Their neglect of citizen empowerment and social action
projects is mirrored in the funding practices of a variety of grantmaking institutions,
including corporate foundations, the smaller private family foundations and the larger
institutionalized foundations [see Jenkins. forthcoming]. Moreover, their funding
practices. leadership activities, and governance, staffing and advisory arrangements
indicate a strong professional and middle-to-upper class bias. Indeed, as Johnson has
stated in his plea for democracy to be philanthropy's "first charity," the philanthropic
9
sector has always been "attracted to professional leadership. When it does choose to try
to help poor people. it prefers to fund professionals in their service occupations rather
than to fund any initiatives that come largely from poor people themselves" [1988, p.
94].
This predilection suggests a deep distrust of citizen deliberation and action when
the citizenship being exercised is by those groups in American society historically
excluded from the mainstream of political and economic life. Yet, it is precisely through
citizen action writ large that democracy has often been extended and public needs met.
Indeed, some have suggested that a polity is far more apt to be democratic with citizens
(or social) movements than without them [Plotke, 1993]. As economic inequities
intensify and socioeconomic status increasingly defines who will participate in the more
formal channels of politics, community foundations concerned about these trends need to
rethink their approach to community improvement.
As some of the foregoing has suggested, democratic principles provide one
rationale for doing so. As Emesto Cortez, a long time community organizer, said at a
recent gathering of community foundations, "Our institutions teach people passivity.
The only way out is to teach about participation and power. There have to be institutions
and leaders able and willing to agitate a little, to shake things up. This is what is needed
to redevelop a civic culture. It is requisite to the art of conversation. There must be a
role for organizing, based in institutions, and founded on the principle of respect for
people and their diversity." Democratic theorist, Benjamin Barber, eloquently agrees:
"Strong democracy rests on the idea of a self-governing community of citizens who are
made capable of common purposes and mutual action by virtue of their civic attitudes
and participatory institutions. It is consonant with -- indeed it depends upon -- the
politics of conflict, the sociology of pluralism, and the separation of private and public
realms of action" [1984, p. 117].
If democratic principles provide one rationale for foundation support of low
income citizen participation and empowerment activities, investment principles provide
another. Foundations, relative to the public sector, represent a small pool of resources.
Recognition of this reality has compelled some in the foundation community to think in
strategic terms, or how best to use a limited number of grant dollars to effect the largest
amount of change. The ARCO Foundation. one of the leading and most socially
responsible corporate foundations, for example, articulates a grantmaking philosophy
based on the concept of strategic investment. Its investment strategy sees community
leadership and action as the antidote to community decay: "Development of community
leadership drives the ARCO Foundation's investment decisions. Believing that people of
a neighborhood 'own' its problems and will be instrumental in solving them, the ARCO
Foundation targets its investments at building capable grass-roots leadership that can
mobilize human assets to renew the spirit of community" [The ARCO Foundation. 1993,
p. 3].
The question, then, to paraphrase Robert Bellah [1992. p. 27], is not just what
philanthropy should do for civic society but how it can do it in a way that strengthens the
initiative and participation of low income and disentranchised citizens, rather than
reducing them to the status of clients. Sadly, the record of ten major community
foundations shows that foundation elites have overwhelmingly opted for the latter
approach in their grantmaking and other community roles.
10
APPENDIX I: DISTRIBUTION OF DISENFRANCHISED GRANTS BY TYPE OF ACTIVITY
Level of Risk
Philadelphia
Boston
Chicago
Los Angeles
Atlanta
San Diego
Cleveland
Seattle
Dallas
Denver
1988-89
1989-90
1992
1989
1991
1991
1988
1988-89
1991
1993
High
Disadvantaged controlled groups
with advocacy agenda
Many
Some
Few
Few
Few
Few
Very Few Few
None
None
Issue advocacy projects --
systemic issues
Many
Some
Many
Few
None
None
None
None
None
One
Community organizing for change
Many
Some
Few
Few
Few
Few
None
None
Some
None
Advocacy-oriented coalitions
with involvement of
disadvantaged
Some
Some
Some
Few
Few
Few
Very Few Few
None
One
Moderate
Unsophisticated groups involving
the disadvantaged
Many
Few
Some
Some
Some
Some
Some
Few
Few
One
Disadvantaged groups seeking
first-time funding
Many
Some
Many
Some
Some
Some
Very Few None
Some
Few
Community-based housing and
development groups
Some
Some
Some
Few
Some
Some
Many
Few
None
Few
Disadvantaged groups with
innovative program or project --
service or development
Many
Many
Some
Some
Few
Some
Some
Few
Some
Some
Disadvantaged groups stressing
leadership development
Some
Some
Some
Some
Some
Few
Very Few Few
Few
Few
Creation of new intermediaries
involving disadvantaged
Some
Some
Some
Some
None
None
Some
Few
None
None
Low
Established groups disadvantaged
Some
Many
Many
Many
Many
Many
Many
Many
Many
Many
Established intermediaries who
will respond to disadvantaged
Some
Many
Many
Many
Few
Few
Many
Few
Few
Many
APPENDIX II: RACE AND GENDER COMPOSITION OF COMMUNITY FOUNDATION BOARDS AND STAFF
BOARD
Atlanta
Boston
Chicago
Cleveland
Dallas
Denver
Los
Phila
San
Seattle
Angeles
Diego
Total
17
12
13
II
8
14
17
9
25
22
Gender
Male
11
7
8
8
6
7
12
6
16
16
Female
6 (35%)
5 (42%)
5 (38%)
3 (27%)
2 (25%)
7 (50%)
s (29%)
3 (33%)
9 (36%)
6 (27%)
Race
White
13
7
9
9
8
12
14
5
21
20
Black
4 (24%)
4 (33%)
3 (23%)
2 (18%)
0
I (7%)
I (6%)
3 (33%)
2 (8%)
I (5%) ^
Latino
0 (8%)
I (8%)
I (8%)
0
0
I (7%)
2 (12%)
I (11%)
I (4%)
0
Other
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
I (4%)
I
% of
24%
41 %
31%
18%
0 %
14 %
18%
44%
16%
10%
Color
STAFF
Total
6
27
42
37
26
7
17
10
13
5
Gender
Male
9
9
14
8
3
2
3
0
5
I
Female
5 (83%)
18
28 (67%)
28 (76%)
18(69%)
5 (71%)
14(82%)
5(100%)
8 (62%)
4 (80%)
(67%)
Race
White
4
19
29
28
24
5
7
3 *
11
5
Black
2 (33%)
5 (19%)
!? (29%)
8 (22%)
2 (8%)
I (14%)
5 (29%)
2+
2 (15%)
0
Latino
0
2 (7%)
3 (7%)
1 (3%)
0
0
3 (18%)
0
0
0
Other
0
I (4%)
I (2%)
0
0
I (14%)
2 (12%)
0
0
0
% of
33%
30%
38%
25%
8 %
28%
59%
40 %
15%
0%
Color
Professional staff only
^
A second Black board member had served for size years, but resigned in June, 1989.
APPENDIX III:
THE BOSTON FOUNDATION'S PRINCIPLES FOR A NEW SOCIAL CONTRACT
1
Incorporate those directly affected by policies at the heart of dialogue and community building.
2
Value racial and cultural diversity as the foundation for wholeness.
3
Promote active citizenship and political empowerment.
4
Build on community assets and strengths.
5
Ensure access to fundamental opportunities and remove obstables to equal opportunity.
6
Support and enhance the well-being of children and their families
7
Foster sustained commitment, coordination and collaboration based on a shared vision and
mutual respect.
13
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