I’ve been thinking about how trust functions in society. Working with community as a nonprofit is often an exercise in trust. Some of the organizations I see around me operate from a trust deficit. They’ve caused harm before; many continue to do so. It often feels like nonprofits work at arm’s length to the communities they claim to serve. Even the concept of service, from nonprofit to community, begins to feel uncomfortable. It’s somewhat infantilizing, isn’t it? Why do organizations lose the trust of the communities they’re closest to? Why are many so desperate to earn it back?
As I was researching this essay, I noticed a pattern in the guides I found on this topic. Many of the authors shared insights on how to build, or as was more common, restore trust with a community. They spoke from positions of leadership at nonprofits, think tanks, and similar places of power. Their advice was always from a position outside of community. I found far fewer words of advice from community members to each other.
Many nonprofits take actions without involving members of their connected communities. Or they will make decisions about a community without the buy-in of that community. The community may not have representation on its board, senior leaders, or even its staff. But the organization may claim to the media or donors that their goals are the same as the community’s goals.
community engagement
I wanted to learn more about how community organizations actually engage with community. What does it look like to strengthen trust without having to restore it? How can nonprofits act without creating problems that they ask BIPOC folks to clean up? Why are we in the community on the hook for so much repair?
I’ve worked alongside more community-based organizations than I’ve worked in. I do have experience as a community member working for and affected by community-level initiatives. I wanted to write about that. I speak my perspectives here and recognize that I continue to grow in my own understanding. What would I say to fellow members of my community?
Start with your values. Front and Centered is a Washington-based coalition advancing equity, environmental, and climate justice. They count more than 70 member organizations across the state. Every member of the coalition is an organization led by “frontline communities.” These are “communities of color, Indigenous peoples, migrants and refugees, and people with lower incomes.” How do they find alignment among such a large group? Members affirm their shared values when they join. The coalition describes its values like this:
“Solidarity and mutuality, bottom-up orientation, clarity and transparency, intersectionality, anti-racism, anti-patriarchy, redistribution of power and resources, respect for Native Nations and Indigenous sovereignty, collective processes, collective impact, and collaborative leadership.”
These values are more than buzzwords or social media PR statements. They communicate their values in a clear way and set them as the bar for entry. Organizations that stand firm in their values can still fit under a big tent if they make it themselves.
Even community-based organizations must earn your trust. Our connection to community organizations is a form of power that should go both ways. They must be able to inform, activate, and mobilize their members for action. In turn, we form a bloc that is likelier to get our needs met than we would as individuals. But we’re also part of community for more reasons than being “stronger together.” These are our people, our neighbors, our families. They share our identity.
Organizations rooted in community still operate within a white supremacist society. The people who lead them can still make decisions that go against our interests. I’m always curious about how organizations function. How do they operate? How do their members inform decisions? How do they connect with institutional holders of power?
we should be driving change
Not all nonprofits that choose to engage communities do it well. Focus groups and surveys can still keep them at a distance from the people they want to help. But organizations keep trying because they need us. Communities harmed by oppression and systemic racism have always known what they need. Our knowledge and experiences are worth something. But we’re also worth more than our perspectives. I’m reminded of the interludes by Master P on the incredible 2016 Solange album, A Seat at the Table. He’s telling the story of his rise to success as the founder of hip hop record label No Limit Records. As the label took off, label mogul Jimmy Iovine offered to buy it from him. On the track, Interlude: For Us By Us, he says,
“And they offered me a million dollar deal, and had the check ready. Said I wouldn’t be able to use my name. I was fighting my brother, because “Man, you shoulda took the million dollars!” I said “No, what you think I’m worth? If this white man offer me a million dollars I gotta be worth forty, or fifty… Or ten or something.”
Solange herself described Master P’s contribution to her album:
“I wanted a voice throughout the record that represented empowerment and independence, the voice of someone who never gave in, even when it was easy to lose sight of everything that he built, someone invested in black people, invested in our community and our storytelling, in empowering his people.”
People in white supremacist capitalist culture undervalue those who aren’t like them. They do this while extracting the worth they say doesn’t exist. Our intrinsic work is the product of survival. We shouldn’t be grateful that people in power are willing to listen to us. It’s a reminder that we’re the ones who should be running our own show.
josh
my name is josh martinez. i have always loved trying to understand systems, and the systems that built those systems. i spend a lot of time thinking about how to get there from here.
i'm the founder and principal consultant at Future Emergent.
say hello: josh[at]bethefuture.space