A Story About Stories
Salem Tsegaye
This is a story about stories—the narratives we do away with, reconstruct, and aspire to live up to.
Five years ago, my colleagues Maurine Knighton at the Doris Duke Foundation and Kerry McCarthy at The New York Community Trust embarked on a journey to “walk the talk.” They enlisted Yancey Consulting to conduct research on the health of arts and cultural organizations of color in New York City, recruited funders to pool monies and provide more support to these groups, and worked with a committee of advisors, including nonprofit leaders of color, to co-create a learning community that would build relational capital on par with financial resources. Two hundred members, 27 donors, and $16 million later, the Mosaic Network and Fund has a story to tell.
Narrative change is an important element of Mosaic’s work. It fosters the cultural shift needed to transform philanthropy. By promoting more truthful narratives about arts and cultural organizations of color (and philanthropy’s longstanding and ongoing underinvestment in them), we become more inclusive, transparent, and accountable.
We—this is collective work—say more truthful and not new to center existing voices, perspectives, and experiences that have been marginalized. Collective planning and decision-making are means of redistributing power among arts practitioners of color and funders, allowing us to expand leadership, make new connections, and build trust.
A remarkable demonstration is the Network’s decision to operate independently; a transition out of The Trust is in progress. Independence is an intentional shift away from a funder-driven initiative toward a practitioner-led, self-determined entity: Mosaic 2.0.[1] As we reflect on the narratives that undergird this turning point, with appreciation to countless individuals who shaped Mosaic’s evolution, we offer three narrative shifts that informed our work and perhaps can inform yours, too.
First, a narrative to do away with: Excellence merits funding.
The notion of excellence, be it artistic or administrative, is subjective and fails to acknowledge the harmful effects of exclusionary policies and practices.[2] Recalling Bryan Stevenson’s 2019 GIA conference keynote, getting proximate to those with whom we are unfamiliar allows us to recognize and appreciate our shared humanity. We must “get proximate” to the artistry, cultural traditions, and organizing practices of marginalized communities to better understand and appreciate value on their terms. Thus, Mosaic prioritizes relationship building.
Second, a narrative to reconstruct: There isn’t enough money to support everyone.
How philanthropy currently operates is not designed to support everyone, but a scarcity mindset cannot drive our ambitions. It hampers our ability to envision and manifest more liberatory ways of working. It also creates a system of haves and have-nots, whereby the latter reinforces a deficit lens that perpetuates competition, individualism, and poor material conditions for most. We must change the self-fulfilling prophecy to reify abundance, free from constraints that inhibit our imagination and potential. Mosaic emphasizes additive support, encouraging funders to invest in arts groups of color beyond their contributions to the pooled fund.
We must also affirm groups’ work and existence as assets. They commission artists of color, educate and inspire audiences, and present contemporary and historical works. They function as incubators of diverse emerging talent, trusted preservers of significant but overlooked cultural legacies, and present more truthful narratives that reflect the multifaceted experiences of people of color. They organize, build power, and influence broader movements for justice. They are a vital segment of the cultural sector, and there is more than enough wealth to sufficiently resource all.
Lastly, a narrative to live up to: Equity and justice.
Mosaic’s efforts have started to move beyond alleviating funding disparities to addressing their root causes. The transition to Mosaic 2.0—an iteration that embodies solidarity economy principles such as democratic decision-making and ownership of resources—demonstrates what is possible when funders cede power and resources to those most affected. Shaunda McDill’s proclamation that equity is dead is a reminder that we cannot continue to participate in extractive practices and expect transformation. As we pursue a just transition in philanthropy, we must employ meantime strategies to reduce harm and engage these restorative and regenerative tactics from Justice Funders. It is a tall order that requires slowing down, embracing complexity, and navigating difficulty with care, and one that Mosaic 2.0 is committed to for the long haul.
NOTES
[1] Central to this shift is a learning exchange series organized by our Network facilitation team, Kyoung’s Pacific Beat. Built on a social change model developed by Kyoung H. Park and Rasu Jilani, the series rooted dialogue in a trajectory that takes participants from a place of naming, contemplating, and deconstructing racist systems to reimagining, building, and investing in anti-racist practices and philanthropic models. Complementary working groups facilitated by Toya A. Lillard—paired with an evaluation conducted by Kai Fierle-Hedrick, Aisha Rios, and Vidhya Shanker—gave Network members a lab to experiment with these ideas, ultimately designing what will soon be an autonomous Mosaic Network and Fund.
[2] Michele Kumi Baer of Kumi Cultural facilitated a year-long funder learning intensive, grounding participants in a nuanced history.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Salem Tsegaye is program officer for arts, culture, and historic preservation at The New York Community Trust.