Stop Funding Firsts
Part of the Black August Series
Alisha Patterson
Since January of this year, there has been a good deal of back slapping and high fiving between grantmakers and grant recipients, as they celebrate firsts. A particular type of first. The kind that even those outside of foundations and non-profit organizations get excited about. I, for example, beamed with pride when Ketanji Brown Jackson was sworn in as the first Black woman to serve on the Supreme Court, and upon learning that in my beloved Baltimore, the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra has appointed Jonathon Heyward as its music director. These two examples serve as instances in which a member of the global majority has entered a high-profile position within an institution. Institutions that, until recently, did not have the wherewithal to permanently alter their respective trajectories by making significant changes in their policies and practices.
The truth is, firsts are an outgrowth of white supremacy, so what changed?
Each time I hear of a first, I find myself cycling through joy, anger, and sadness. In both of the aforementioned instances, my initial feelings of elation where soon overtaken as worry and distrust settled in when my idealism was met with doubt. I found myself wanting to know how predominately white cultural institutions in particular, come to a decision that is completely out of step with its history. Then I began to wonder how grantmakers engage with organizations on the precipice of making such a decision. My concerns are well founded. Perhaps you, like I, have watched either from within an organization or from afar, the unraveling that occurs when an institution is more ready on paper than in practice. The result, eventually the battled scarred leader either resigns or is fired, carrying a type of trauma that takes a great deal of time and effort to move through. This outcome is no good for the leader, the institution and the people it serves.
It is irresponsible to provide monetary and non-monetary support to an institution that hasn’t truly wrestled with policies and practices that exist to uphold whiteness.
Image credit: Scott Patterson
To really go there requires a shift from being reactive to proactive, and let’s tell the truth, a number of the decisions that were made in 2020 while responding to COVID-19 resulted in big messes that have come to light over the last two years. That’s because you cannot simply retrofit diversity, equity and inclusion onto a predominately white cultural institution steeped in whiteness. It doesn’t work like that. Nor is a moment of reckoning enough because this type of shift is not superficial. Rather, it requires deep work that will penetrate every fiber of the institution, activating a ripple that goes beyond the institution and into the future.
I encourage grantmakers and the predominately white cultural institutions they fund to operate in partnership with one another in a way that is intentional and future forward before releasing/accepting funds. This could look a number of ways. However, let’s start by asking:
“ Does the institution have a diversity, equity and inclusion statement (DEI) that simply appears next to its land acknowledgement on its website, or do they have a DEI practice that is being used to eradicate policies and procedures anchored in white supremacy? ”
The reality is, grantmakers that continue to prioritize whiteness will also have to rumble with the same question. I encourage them to be disruptive by engaging in acts of resistance, such as shifting their mindset, increasing the funding granted to organizations founded and led by members of the global majority, and making amends for past decisions that resulted in harmful outcomes for arts leaders of the global majority.
The GIA Black August Reader Series lifts up the work, aims, and possibilities of Black artists, community, and grantmakers, and offers a call to the field asking cultural grantmakers to interrupt institutional and structural racism while building a more just funding ecosystem that prioritizes Black communities, organizations, and artists. Black August, born out of Black liberation, resistance, and justice movements, is a month dedicated to critical learning and analysis, reflection and study of our roles in oppressive or liberatory systems, and an opportunity to grow, connect, and prepare for the challenging work ahead.
About the Author
Alisha Patterson is the Managing Director of Afro House, Director of the Leadership Through Mentorship Program for Women of Color in the Arts and serves on the Greater Baltimore Cultural Alliance’s Urban Arts Leadership Advisory Council.
