Collecting and sharing demographic data has emerged as a top priority in philanthropy, especially since national research found that both foundation demographics (CEO, staff and trustees) and the level of foundation funding directly serving people of color are significantly less than the percent of the population they represent.

In Oregon, a study by the Foundation Center found that less than 10 percent of foundation funding in Oregon was explicitly targeted to reach ethnic or racial minority communities, while people of color represent approximately 20 percent of the state’s population.

Another shortcoming revealed by this research is that data collected by foundations is inadequate and unreliable when it comes to identifying specifically which populations benefit from organizations, programs and projects they fund because most foundations don’t collect that information from grant applicants or grantees. Until recently, we couldn't tell with certainty because we didn't ask. We began collecting demographic data in a systematic and formal way in 2013.

To understand whether Meyer is making progress in pursuit of our mission to help achieve a flourishing and equitable Oregon “where all current and future residents have fair access to opportunities to learn, work, prosper, and participate in a vibrant cultural and civic life,” we became diligent and intentional about measuring the impact of our grant funds. We are collecting data about whether and how much our funding supports the diverse populations that make up our state.

Our staff has been working diligently to determine what and how we should approach this endeavor, first by studying what other foundations do. We discovered there is a wide array in the content of data collected – some use highly customized categories, some with race and ethnicity combined and others separated, and some with very minimalist categories, which we recognized would not acknowledge the breadth of community members in our region.

In 2013, we asked Education Northwest to conduct a survey and convene focus groups among recent Meyer applicant organizations and grantees to better understand what demographic data they already collect, how that data is used, and ask about the challenges groups face in collecting and using this data.

We are grateful to those who participated in our online survey, which had a remarkable response rate of close to 40%. Not only was the quantity of responses impressive (444 organizations), your narrative comments were very thoughtful and helpful. We also convened several focus groups in person and over the phone, reaching 26 leaders from different types and sizes of nonprofits from all fields, working in different communities across the state. We very much appreciate the feedback, ideas and time so many of you contributed.

What we learned pointed us to our next steps:

• We learned that only about half of respondents collect and use some form of demographic data. Advocacy and human service organizations topped the list of groups that do collect such data. Less than one-third of arts, culture and humanities nonprofits collect some form of demographic data, and environmental groups even less.
• For those organizations that do use demographic data, we learned that they use it to shape programs and services as well as internal operations.
• You encouraged us to recognize the differences and diversity among the nonprofits that we fund, and you shared concerns about applying a one-size-fits-all approach to this effort.
• You indicated a variety of positive opportunities to use demographic data for building organizational capacity and to achieve impact. You noted that it could help with communication and outreach, organizational and programmatic analysis, and internal and external decision-making. You also saw the opportunity to use this data to more effectively address issues related to culture and the growing ethnic and racial diversity in our state.
• One challenge we heard was the lack of organizational capacity to collect and interpret data appropriately and effectively. You also noted that data collection methods, data gaps and the information that can be gleaned have limitations. For certain populations, confidentiality was cited as a significant consideration.
• Some of the richest feedback emerged when we asked for ideas on how we could support grantees’ experiences with demographic data. You saw a potential role for us to assist with developing common data systems and metrics, as well as providing technical assistance and capacity building grants and training to implement plans for collecting/using demographic data to advance your missions, and to coordinate with other funders to the fullest extent possible.
• Finally, you suggested that Meyer might be able to help provide access to reliable and relevant demographic data, educate the field about how to use demographic data, and communicate clearly about how we will use any data that we request from you.
• All this feedback helped inform our approach going forward.

– Karissa

One of the things we’ve learned through research Meyer Memorial Trust has done in the past few years is that many of the people who could most benefit from philanthropic dollars have the least access to them. It remains a source of great frustration: The level of foundation funding directly serving people of color is significantly lower than the percentage of population they represent. So one of the strategies we’re pursuing at Meyer to put our Vision, Mission and Values into practice and promote greater equity in Oregon is to pay closer attention to the demographic profiles of our nonprofit partners and those they serve. We want to know who is being reached and who is not.

Fifty organizations participated in our demographic pilot last autumn. We asked applicants for our Responsive Grants program to supply race and ethnicity data information on the populations the organization served in general and the populations the organization intended to serve through a Meyer-funded project, as well as the organization’s board and staff.

I want to thank them for their honesty.

Collecting demographic data can be logistically, intellectually and emotionally challenging work. Some of the applicants in our pilot remain skeptical that the data is necessary or valuable. Some, who say they do not discriminate based on race or ethnicity, feel being color blind is effort enough. And others are eager to start tracking the data themselves.

In the interest of transparency, we turned the lens on ourselves, too. We posted the results of a race and ethnicity survey our staff and trustees participated in last year on our website before asking our nonprofit partners to provide their own data. We updated the data this month. If you look at the charts, one thing is clear: We are a changing organization. A few people have left, a few people have been hired. But our demographic survey revealed something else, too. Our staffers are on the same journey of self-assessment we are asking our nonprofit partners to take. It is heartfelt. It is personal. It is self-defining. It is anything but black and white.

A year ago, we promised pilot participants we would work hard to figure out the best use for the data. Our program team and other Trust staff continue to explore how to incorporate more robust demographic data into our due diligence work. I especially want to call out Meyer's grants manager, Karissa Lowe, whose painstaking work collecting and compiling the demographic data offered our first real window into who our final beneficiaries really are — and some of the barriers to reaching them. At this stage, we’ve made no firm decisions about how the data Meyer collects in our grant applications will impact the distribution of our grant dollars. But we have decided that knowing more about who our grant dollars reach and how organizational leadership reflects and engages diverse communities are crucial lenses that we will continue to apply to our grantmaking.

We care about how nonprofit boards, staff and others involved in programming include and reflect communities and constituents. And we know that many Oregon nonprofits care about the same things. Going forward, we realize that some organizations will have an easy time tracking the racial and ethnic information of their boards, their staffs, the populations they serve generally and the populations they intend to serve with Meyer funding. For other organizations, the data collection is more challenging. Meyer is committed to meeting organizations and communities where they are.

We understand that while its population demographics are in flux, Oregon is not one of the more diverse states in the nation. Many areas in the state have scant representation of communities of color. We’re not asking organizations to serve people who aren’t there. But we are asking our nonprofit partners, who share our interest in reaching the many and diverse populations that make up Oregon, to be thoughtful about two things: ensuring that community members who could benefit from their programs and services have equitable access to them and reflecting Oregon’s ethnic and racial communities in the makeup of their organizations.

— Doug

I keep pondering the grand jury’s decision not to indict police officer Darren Wilson for fatally shooting 18-year-old Michael Brown last August in Ferguson, Missouri.

The teen’s family continues to mourn. Seventeen hundred miles away, I share their confusion and anger. Protests, which quickly broadened beyond an isolated police shooting to shine light on inequities endured by African Americans in suburban St. Louis and across the country, are spreading. Communities are divided, both here in Oregon and on social media, by a gulf of misunderstanding between those who see what happened to Brown in the continuum of race in this divided country and those who identify instead with the plight of the white police officer.

Since Michael Brown’s death, there have been repeated reminders that white privilege does not exist in a vacuum: New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof’s excellent series addresses head on the lingering barriers blacks face in America. "One element of white privilege today," Kristof wrote on a recent Sunday, "is obliviousness to privilege, including a blithe disregard of the way past subjugation shapes present disadvantage." NYT columnist Charles M. Blow wrote eloquently of the inherent advantages in America, “the false dichotomy that chokes to death any real accountability and honesty. Systemic anti-black bias doesn’t dictate personal behavior, but it can certainly influence and inform it. And personal behavior can reinforce people’s belief that their biases are justified. So goes the cycle.”

Last night, as protests turned violent in Missouri and police in riot gear responded with tear gas, Rev. Chuck Currie tweeted about what we can do close to home to own our history and begin righting inequities. “There is an ongoing need for Oregonians to address racism just as much as there is a need for those in Missouri to address racism. #Ferguson.”

Throughout a sleepless night, my friend Andrew Mason, executive director of Open Meadow, an alternative school in Portland, was doing just that. He shared his musings with me. As I was struggling to put my thoughts in writing, Andrew’s comments reflected my own fears and frustrations. I applaud his instinct to add his voice as an ally of those outraged by history but determined not to repeat it. Here’s how the grand jury decision in Ferguson haunts Andrew:

Here’s what makes me afraid:

I am afraid my 10 year-old son will grow old in world where killing unarmed black men continues to be sanctioned by the law, just as it was 350 years ago.

I am afraid that my son will grow old in a world where young black men are 21 times more likely to be killed by police than white men.

I am afraid of the confusion. Confusion about the justice system, confusion about my right to second-guess this system.

I am afraid of the anger, the rage. Will I alienate friends, colleagues and neighbors?

I am afraid of the silence. Will white folks let this stand? Again? Will there be no outcry? Is the silence because you don’t care, because you’re afraid to care, because you don’t know how to care, or something else? Will confusion keep us quiet?

I am afraid of the resignation, the voice of devalued black lives – “I am not surprised,” “I am used to it,” “I was expecting it.”

I am afraid of the pain and cruelty of overt racism – “Why don’t they get over it?,” “#pantsupdontloot.”

I am afraid of the isolation. Saying nothing, I am alone. Saying something, I will alienate, frighten, offend. I am afraid of the continued inability for American communities – my community, our community – to have a healthy and productive dialogue about the disparities that have resulted from a 350-year history of violence by white folks against black folks.

I am afraid of being misunderstood. Afraid,even when I can’t figure out how anyone could be understood – how anyone could make sense of this, how this could happen?

Here’s what I’m not afraid of: When I wake up tomorrow morning and my white son goes to school, I’m not afraid of him being shot by the police, by the authorities sworn to protect him. I’ve never been afraid of that. — Andrew Mason

I hear Andrew’s challenge. Along with the staff and trustees of Meyer Memorial Trust, I am committed to being a part of this dialogue.

I’ll be joining him Tuesday, Nov. 25 at 4 p.m. at the Albina Ministerial Alliance Protest in front of the Justice Center at Southwest 3rd Avenue and Madison Street in downtown Portland. I also encourage people to attend the community dialogue at Open Meadow Middle School on Saturday, November 29.

— Doug

So it stands to reason that to meet Oregon’s education, environmental and health goals, to truly flourish as a state, we’ve got to make inroads in Oregon’s housing crisis. For more than a decade, a combination of high housing costs, rising energy prices and stagnant household income have challenged residents to find and hold onto housing.

Oregon’s housing crisis affects people across multiple income levels: Tens of thousands of Oregonians experienced homelessness last year — 20,000 school children in Oregon schools were homeless last year. Another 5,140 Oregonians lost their homes to foreclosure, a 25-percent increase from 2013. Families of modest means are struggling to keep up with housing costs. Gentrification has pushed entire communities out of their historic neighborhoods. A shortage of affordable housing is not merely an urban phenomenon: rural communities across the state also struggle with low vacancies and climbing rents. And our neighbors in small town Oregon have a difficult time filling service jobs because newcomers can’t find housing.

At Meyer Memorial Trust, we believe Oregonians deserve to have a safe place to wake up each morning and fall asleep at night, that housing is key to opportunity, success and breaking cycles of poverty. Hardworking families should be able to afford a home and still have enough money for groceries and other basic necessities. Seniors on fixed incomes, veterans and people with disabilities should be able to live independently with dignity. Young people should have a place to become established and grow into their dreams. Children deserve an opportunity to succeed in school and life, beginning with a safe, decent place to call home. More affordable homes in Oregon give us all a foundation on which to build better lives.

In 2007, Meyer launched its Affordable Housing Initiative to address the need for more affordable housing across the state, dedicating more than $9 million to the effort. Last year, we recommitted to the Initiative, pledging another $11 million over the next five years to support affordable housing solutions from Oregon’s wild, windy coastline to its austere eastern landscape of deserts and mountains.

This January, Meyer's Trustees authorized an additional $3.75 million to the Affordable Housing Initiative, demonstrating an increased commitment to meeting the housing needs of Oregonians. These added Sustaining Portfolio Strategy funds are dedicated to strengthening the long-term health and sustainability of Oregon’s existing affordable housing stock.

Rent-restricted affordable housing portfolios provide homes for more than 30,000 low-income households across Oregon. These portfolios represent a significant public investment by local, state and national funders. If Oregon hopes to increase its stock of affordable housing, it can not afford to lose the housing we already have.

Nonprofits and public agencies throughout Oregon have been engaged in building their capacity to oversee their affordable housing portfolios, ensuring accessible, affordable and high quality housing for low income Oregonians. The Initiative’s Sustaining Portfolios Strategy advances this work with a focus on long-term planning and increasing the sustainability of these crucial housing assets. Meyer awarded 13 AHI grants in February, totaling $2.19 million. Learn more about these recent grants on our website.

The Trust’s housing investments and commitment are critical, but not enough to address the state’s housing needs. Moving the needle requires a significant collective push. We need investments in homes, strategies to acquire land for future development to prevent displacement down the road, local flexibility to achieve housing goals, low-cost debt to help finance development and policy tools that will help us create the communities we want to see.

More than 50 Oregon groups are working on a broad Housing Opportunity Agenda to remove barriers that Oregonians with low incomes face when looking for a home. It’s a good thing. Housing experts, impacted communities and nonprofit leaders have identified solutions that can meaningfully address Oregon’s housing crisis. What is needed is a statewide commitment to prioritizing housing through a meaningful infusion of resources, policy flexibility to reduce development barriers and the exploration of innovation.

We can do more than hold the line. We can ensure Oregonians across the state have a place to call home. Oregon’s very future depends on getting affordable housing right.

— Doug

Does it feel like your head is spinning?

There’s been hardly a week over the past year that has not offered fresh urgency for Americans to get and stay engaged in national conversations about race.

From the deaths of unarmed black people at the hands of law enforcement officers, to the massacre of nine black parishioners in South Carolina at the hands of a man who wrote of wanting to start a race war, to the burning of black churches in the South, there have been ample and urgent opportunities to talk about the “Uncomfortable Subject."

The immediacy of these horrific events has caused many to stop and focus on the moment — to pay our respects. But I’m not satisfied with asking myself, “isn’t it tragic? Isn’t that sad?” My heart breaks and I am trying to figure out what more I can do.

I’ve mentioned before, I am working on, and learning about, being a more effective white ally. What that means to me is that I do what I can in the longer term work of breaking down inequities borne out of institutional and structural racism, and I work to overturn the inequities racism creates in education, housing, the workplace and the larger U.S. culture.

Becoming a white ally began with some incontrovertible personal truths: I have never had to fear being profiled when I walked into a store, or being pulled over when I drive a nice car, redlining when I wanted to buy a home, or rejection when I needed a loan or a job. I know that isn’t the reality for brown and black people. I believe racism exists. I’ve seen it denied, minimized, justified but I do not doubt the links between racism, economic disparities, classism, sexism, gender discrimination, and other forms of injustice. I learn about, and from, people who have worked for racial justice. I support the leadership of people of color. And, especially in this moment, I am reminded that I am not alone on this journey.

At the funeral eulogizing South Carolina State Senator Clementa Pinckney, President Barack Obama called for Americans to pay more attention to less apparent forms of racism. When he said, "maybe we now realize the way a racial bias can infect us even when we don't realize it so that we're guarding against not just racial slurs, but we're also guarding against the subtle impulse to call Johnny back for a job interview but not Jamal," it resonated for me. I thought of the important equity work we are doing here at Meyer, as well as my peers in the D5 Coalition who helping push philanthropy to reflect the diverse country we share.

When a recent Wall Street Journal editorial opined that “the system and philosophy of institutionalized racism identified by Dr. King no longer exists,” another white ally, Stewart Butterfield, the CEO of Slack, denounced the editorial board’s denial on Twitter. “Pretending it doesn't exist is, cognitively, really hard work. And it is dishonest and unfair and cruel work too. It's its own violence,” he tweeted. “Acknowledging that we still have a very, very long way to go is literally the least anyone could do.” That’s a white ally stepping onto the field, inspiring honest dialogue.

Another white ally comes from a family steeped in white privilege and generations of political power, Senator Paul Thurmond, the son of segregationist Strom Thurmond, addressed the matter of the Confederate flag, still flying above South Carolina’s state capitol after the killings at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church. Where other lawmakers testified the flag was about Southern heritage, Thurmond countered that the flag was deeply rooted in oppressive story of slavery. It was the truth. We have to begin with truth.

Time and time again, Oregonians hold as their number one value their quality of life. True quality of life for all requires each of us reach our full potential, a significant challenge when we don’t have a line of stepping stones laid out neatly from the moment we are born.

It’s not easy. When I get into conversations about race with people of color, I can at times feel my heart rate go up or I get anxious. I can’t experience firsthand the emotions or level of anger or frustration at being judged by the color of my skin. I’m not always sure what is the right thing or the wrong thing to say. It can feel like wandering into uncharted territory, but it is so important to do it. Otherwise, we’re really not working toward change if all we say when nine people lose their lives is, “isn’t that sad?”

It is sad. How do you handle that?

Me, I’m going to commit to continuing to educate myself and others about racism. To raise issues around racism and discrimination in public and private. I plan to personally learn and engage more around the work of our local organizations working to dismantle racism. But I am going to do more than that. Meyer has made many inroads in diversity and equity but our field hasn’t diversified much; nor has my social circle broadened as I would like. There’s work to do there. I like how my immediate professional world has changed. I’m better for it. More important, the Meyer Trust is better for it.

How about you? Tell me about the steps you’re taking to help make this place, our Oregon, flourish for everyone. Reach out to me in the comment section below, or on Twitter @dougastamm. I look forward to your insights.

— Doug

Many Meyer grants aided Oregonians in times of recession with food, utilities and housing. Other grants built important institutions in our state: health clinics, community centers, libraries and museums. Much of our past grantmaking was good and essential.

Then why shift?

Because our state has changed. Our challenges are bigger, more serious and more difficult to address. Oregon has grown from 3 million in just 12 years to 4 million citizens today. Twenty-two percent of our residents are people of color. Portland has the 3rd highest rate among major cities of unsheltered chronically homeless and we are 46th among states for our graduation rate. Our past method of grantmaking was not addressing these trends head-on.

What is Meyer changing?

We are no longer a purely responsive foundation waiting for nonprofit organizations to request funding. We are now very focused on meeting our state's most serious challenges. We have increased our staff and hired experts who have spent months listening to our community to learn what is needed and what approach is best. We hope to bring together talented leaders and nonprofit organizations within our state to address our issues in a comprehensive fashion, leveraging private, nonprofit and government funds. We have learned that focus is incredibly important. We have done this before with the Affordable Housing and Willamette River initiatives. Both have shown some positive measurable results. We believe it can work in other areas. And we are so committed that we are spending a greater portion of Meyer funds than has ever been allocated before.

We will review all programs with an equitable lens. Our demographics have changed remarkably and all of Oregon can not flourish unless all residents are included. We are learning with all of you how to accomplish this.

How is Meyer the same?

We are still concerned about the same issues (issues that surveys indicate Oregonians care most about): affordable housing, good schools, a healthy environment and strengthening our leaders and nonprofit organizations to be better equipped to changing conditions.

We remain totally committed to our nonprofit partners. They have helped set our direction and will be key in moving us toward it.

We still believe Oregon's problems can be solved.

The strength of this new approach depends upon our respectful partnership with nonprofit organizations and our acceptance of all residents. If we are all pulling together, we remain optimistic that Oregon can meet our challenges and that we can make it better place for all of us. We look forward to starting this process with you.

—DC

Debbie Craig stepped down from Meyer’s Board of Trustees in 2019, after serving 23 years.

So you've probably heard about the illustration contest Meyer and Northwest Health Foundation launched in February 2016, to help identify images from Oregon artists that further the discourse on equity.

We were drawn to the illustrations floating around the web, usually depicting three individuals standing on boxes outside a fence. Often the images were used to show the difference between equality, where everyone gets the same resources, and equity, which speaks to each person getting the resources they need.

Our contest ends March 31st, and while we've gotten some really interesting submissions from youths and adults, we're excited about what more may come our way.

Recently, we came across a LinkedIn post by Aasha M. Abdill, an independent evaluation and strategy consultant based in Washington, D.C., taking on the ubiquitous image of those three figures on boxes stacked outside a fence. She had a fresh perspective about how the popular image gets equity so very, very wrong.

With her permission, we share Aasha's post:

 

I have seen this picture floating around many times on LinkedIn for several months now.

While I very much appreciated the intended purpose of the image-- distinguishing equity from equality-- the first time I saw it, I could not click the "like" button. Something about the image bugged me.  Yet, I couldn't easily figure out why and I didn't have any free time to think on it. After a while I stopped seeing it in my feed and I forgot about it.

A couple of months later, a slightly different version resurfaced. It appeared consistently and boldly in my feed with little concern for my escalating irritation. As each LinkedIn colleague liked, shared and commented in its favor, I felt an irrational exasperation. I am not easily vexed so this was a clear problem that I knew I needed to address.

I stared at the image. It "stared" back at me. I frowned. I sighed. I furrowed my brow. I walked away. And, then it hit me. My voice in my head screamed with a mixture of indignation and relief, "That's why I can't stand you!"

Do you know why? If you don't, it's understandable because it exemplifies the insidiousness of implicit bias. So, I will not keep you entrapped for a second longer. Instead, I will ask you one question.

In the picture, why are the three individuals so observably different in capability (physical height and age)?

Social equity is imperative because structural inequality exists; that is, you can predict the outcomes of individuals based on social characteristics that should not have any direct correlation to the outcome. Why then, is it possible to predict? Because, social inequality is perpetuated by institutional and individual discrimination. So, to address social inequities, the boxes appearing in the second frame are necessarily doled out unequally so that equity can be achieved.

The problem with the picture is in its implicit bias that many do not see. If we believe, fundamentally, that all people regardless of race, class or creed are comparably able, there should be little difference between the individuals in this picture. What should be drawn as dissimilar are not the individuals but rather the bottom boxes they are standing on in the first frame.

While I fully appreciate the intended purpose of the image, its point regrettably rests upon a deeply ingrained belief of the inherent inequality of people. And, despite the sincere explicit intention for increasing understanding, empathy, and justice for redressing social inequities, the picture's sentiment implicitly reinforces the idea that minorities (or those otherwise unprivileged) have inferior abilities.

So, for all you artists — please! Please create another picture. One that conveys the important distinction of equity and equality without the hidden and deeply ingrained bigotry.

 

On that note, please submit your own entry into the Equity Illustrated design contest. Help us get this right.

And read the rest of Aasha's conversation-provoking post on LinkedIn here.

In March, Meyer staff has visited more than a dozen communities and connected with nearly 1,000 people representing the diversity of Oregon’s nonprofits, public educational institutions, government and Tribal agencies.

Dozens more information sessions are scheduled over the next four weeks as organizations prepare their response to the opening of Meyer’s 2016 funding opportunities on April 4th.

As we traveled across the state, we gathered together organizations and individuals interested in learning more about the four key areas we believe to be essential to a flourishing and equitable Oregon. The visits have been an excellent reminder of our shared values toward service and support so that all Oregonians may thrive.

I’m personally grateful for the hospitality and candor we’ve received. We have heard loud and clear about the barriers urgently experienced by many communities across our state. Meyer is committed to dismantling barriers and creating systemic conditions where all Oregonians experience the opportunity to reach their full potential. We’ve challenged ourselves, and we’ve asked our partners to join us in this challenge. Transformative work doesn’t happen overnight, and it doesn’t happen without you and the communities you serve. So thank you for your continued commitment to your communities and our partnership.

We look forward to seeing you!

While I am a self-acknowledged evangelist, I recognize that “equity” is radical thinking in some circles. But for me, and at Meyer, equity has become the driving force in how we approach our work.

The underlying premise begins with the acknowledgment that resources applied equally across the board do not solve deep problems. To meaningfully address the persistent gaps/disparities we witness in Oregon, we need to implement strategies rooted in equity that are not necessarily equal.

Equity is at the forefront of our daily news: you see it every time you read about race, profiling, education-wage-housing gaps, gender rights and disparities, power or privilege, immigration and protectionism. And the list goes on.

Eliminating these inequities has become one of the most pressing and critical issues of our time. I don’t think that’s hyperbole. What we strive for at Meyer, in service to our vision of a “flourishing and equitable Oregon,” is to eliminate barriers that keep ALL Oregonians from reaching their full potential.

This year marks my 18th in the independent sector — 14 years at Meyer and four at the nonprofit Friends of the Children. Before that I was at NIKE in global public affairs and corporate philanthropy.

To sum up my professional endeavors over the past 20 plus years, I’ve been working to solve social problems. It became acutely apparent to me during the past five years that my efforts, while well-intended and productive in many ways, were missing a key component: deliberate and consistent integration of principles of equity.

I came to this realization a few years back when we began using a racial equity framework during extensive equity and inclusion training at Meyer. I’ve blogged before about how insightful and life-changing it was to learn and engage in this very personal and challenging work with my co-workers and trustees, particularly those who represent historically marginalized and disadvantaged populations and spoke openly and courageously about the barriers and challenges they encountered.

Quite simply, their honesty changed the way I view our world, the way I look at problem solving and, in turn, the way we at Meyer approach our work. It especially caused me to reflect on philanthropy and its challenges.

Philanthropy, borne out of wealth, is often at direct odds with equity. Historically rooted in notions of charity or generosity — not ill-intended, mind you — philanthropy can come across as decidedly noblesse oblige. Driven by the moral imperative that comes with power and privilege — an obligation to help others in need — and encouraged by significant tax incentives, a lot of money changed hands under this system. And many positive outcomes were achieved. But has this traditional style of philanthropy taken advantage of its full potential in a way that has created widespread and lasting impact? After two decades in the field, my answer is, to a great extent, “NO.”

In fact, traditional approaches to philanthropy can really miss the mark by not focusing on the underpinnings or causes of problems so often rooted in long-term bias, racism and other “isms” and oppression. In an effort to be “equal,” it sometimes ignored persistent disparities based on such characteristics as race, ethnicity, income, gender, sexual orientation and disability status. Often it acted without recognizing barriers imposed by historical disparities now embedded in our organizations, institutions and cultures. It reinforced marginalization by passing over people and communities that have historically been left out. And often it relied on predominantly white, highly educated, well-intended, yet often privileged, foundation leaders, staff and nonprofit executives to decide how best to address the challenges faced by “others.” Rarely were historically marginalized communities included in the development of philanthropy’s strategies and grantmaking.

Over the past 34 years, while Meyer has engaged in good and important work, I’ve come to realize that we — I, as CEO and the organization itself — were not completely immune from this historical culture and approach to philanthropy.

Our equity training, study and collective journey helped us to fully acknowledge the biases that shape our lives and the philanthropic sector we operate in. Before then, I had not completely understood how my privilege as a white guy from a family with the means to make my dreams come true continued to shape my view of our work and the world. Like many in the Pacific Northwest, I was progressive, thoughtful and “colorblind.” And I served no one by not recognizing how deeply historical bias and oppression are embedded in our institutions, our culture and our own subconscious, which naturally frames such things as who we live alongside, who we hire and who we socialize with. And those dominant culture biases and oppressions have shaped our decision making and strategy implementation.

I, and Meyer, are not alone on this journey in Oregon. Philanthropic organizations all over the state also put equity at the center of what they do or have begun to do so. A few examples:

• MRG Foundation was borne out of a desire to have the deepest impact on the root causes of social inequity.
• The Collins Foundation has been working intensely on equity for more than two years, and finalized in December plans to apply an equity lens to its grantmaking.
• Oregon Community Foundation recently released a statement affirming its commitment to equity, diversity and inclusion.
• Spirit Mountain Community Fund invests in, partners with and supports organizations that prioritize diversity and equity at the leadership level.
• Social Venture Partners Portland uses an equity lens to ensure more racially equitable investments close significant gaps in opportunity and resources for children of color living in poverty.
• Grantmakers of Oregon and Southwest Washington launched a new strategic plan to embed equity throughout our region while developing new and diverse philanthropies.

This is the philanthropic environment into which Meyer Memorial Trust announced a complete overhaul of our strategy last year.

During 2015 we worked to realign our efforts to be more strategic and to have greater impact. Today marks the first day that applicants can begin to apply for $11 million in grants under three of our redesigned funding areas: Building Community, Healthy Environment and Housing Opportunities. We are constructing our fourth portfolio, Equitable Education, with funding opportunities to follow.

We will prioritize work with, and look to work alongside, nonprofit partners who share our interest in increasing equity and inclusion of Oregonians who experience disparities because of race, ethnicity, income, gender, sexual orientation, disability status and other historical oppressions.

We have gathered a stellar and diverse staff with content experience to help leverage our grant awards through a multitude of strategies, including taking a more active role to convene and leverage our influence, engaging in independent research/education of policymakers and advocacy, developing new and diverse leaders, and amplifying the voices and work of organizations, networks and coalitions committed to dismantling inequities and increasing equitable opportunities.

We are building in assessment of the progress and outcomes of our grants, programs and partnerships to help us understand both our achievements and our failures. Look for us to course correct when needed — and be fully transparent about what does and does not work and what we are learning.

Meyer is committed to being an engaged partner in this shared work of making Oregon a more equitable place. If you’re here to apply, this is where you go first.

— Doug

I just topped off a whirlwind of travel over the past month with a trip to my hometown, the Twin Cities. 

I still visit from time to time to see family and friends, but on this occasion I went for the first site visit of my fellowship with the Funders Network for Smart Growth and Livable Communities PLACES program.

PLACES aims to advance funder efforts that empower communities of color and low-income communities to influence growth and development decision-making in their communities.

There’s lots of things to share about my time in Minneapolis, but I wanted to offer two takeaways from my visit.

The story of the Twin Cities is familiar

Not only does it evoke a host of teenage memories, but it sounds and looks a lot like Portland. The region is growing and its economy is strong. Like Portland, it has more nonprofits than most places, all working to improve the region. But, not everyone is doing well. Communities of color, low-income communities and communities that have historically experienced disparities are falling further behind while communities that have privilege are getting further ahead. Unemployment disparities are especially stark. Race, place and outcomes are highly correlated. We heard that “Minneapolis is fierce about affordable housing.” We know that Portland’s affordable housing conversation is also fierce … in that friendly, Portland way. Numerous presenters referenced a culture of “Minnesota nice” that hinders productive discourse about race. In Portland, we all know about “Portland nice.” And, it seems to cause a similar problem.

Work for equity and social change is complex 

It requires collaboration and long-term commitment. It’s not the work of individuals acting in isolation or for the faint of heart.

We saw this in action during an all-day visit to the North Minneapolis Broadway Corridor — a place where community leaders demonstrate passionate commitment to their community, despite the deep disparities and challenges they face. During a panel discussion, community leaders described decades-long disinvestments in the area, while resources poured into neighboring white neighborhoods. The panel buzzed with what someone dubbed “positive tension.” The leaders didn’t agree on everything. They challenged each other’s assumptions and spoke difficult truths to each other — and to us.

DeVon Nolen, a force for positive change and Project/Market Manager of the West Broadway Business Area Coalition, led us on a tour of the corridor which included numerous nonprofits and small businesses working together. She shared creative solutions — some that haven’t yet taken hold and others that are working. For example, amidst a shower of bubbles (yes, bubbles) flowing from the rooftop of its building, Juxtaposition Arts wowed us with their youth empowerment and community development work. Along the way, we met business owners, long-time residents, and newcomers young and old, who shared impressions about the community or quizzed us about what we were doing there. Folks were clearly interested and engaged.

During lunch at Breaking Bread, an impromptu parade of several North Minneapolis leaders shared inspiring vignettes about their work. I particularly appreciated hearing from the director of Neighbors Organizing for Change who won a commitment from the state to reinvest some of the its surplus dollars into North Minneapolis. This is how real change happens.

We topped off the day by hearing from the Northside Funders Group, a collaborative of philanthropic organizations aligning investments to reduce disparities in North Minneapolis.

The level of collaboration, organizing and action we saw was remarkable. Even though I grew up in the Twin Cities, I didn’t know the story of North Minneapolis or many of the other things I learned during the site visit.

Over the coming year, the PLACES program will offer me three more opportunities — in Hartford, Conn.; Phoenix, Ariz.; and Jacksonville, Fla. — to hear how different funders are supporting and engaging with communities to advance equity. I look forward to sharing what I learn next time and how we can apply lessons from PLACES to our work for an equitable and flourishing Oregon.

— Jill

Juxtaposition Arts wowed us with their youth empowerment and community development work. Here's their community mind map and plan mural.