Tiffany Onyejiaka Nicole Cardoza Tiffany Onyejiaka Nicole Cardoza

Support community-based research.

Research about issues hurting marginalized communities has skyrocketed. However, this has not decreased inequality. Extractive research studies marginalized communities without involving or helping them. It runs rampant in American research institutions.

Good morning and welcome back! As society reckons with racial inequities, resources are flowing to conduct research studies to implement new policies and practices. Sometimes, these practices can do more harm than good – exploiting marginalized communities and gatekeeping access to direct support. Tiffany shares more in today's newsletter.

Thank you for your support! This daily, free, independent newsletter is fully funded by contributions from our readers. Make a monthly or annual donation to join in, or give one-time on our websitePayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza).

– Nicole


TAKE ACTION


  • Support community-based research projects such as the Anti-Eviction Mapping Project and organizations that use community-based research like the Coalition on Homelessness, Our Data Bodies, Causa Justa, and Dignity and Power Now.

  • Whether you’re a student, parent, employee, or neighbor, challenge academic institutions to employ community-based research.

  • When assessing academic “solutions” to problems in oppressed communities, consider: Were those being studied involved in research design, implementation, and analysis? Will they be empowered or further marginalized by the proposals? Were community members already articulating their problems, needs, and desires? Did problems stem from a lack of research or an imbalance of power and resources?


GET EDUCATED


By Tiffany Onyejiaka (she/her)

Research about issues hurting marginalized communities has skyrocketed. However, this has not decreased inequality. Extractive research studies marginalized communities without involving or helping them. It runs rampant in American research institutions.

Researchers in the U.S. have long exploited marginalized communities. Colonial doctors experimented on enslaved Africans (JSTOR). Medical researchers used Puerto Rican women as guinea pigs for the first birth control trials, murdering some in the process (History). Some still deny racism by citing Daniel Moynihan, a sociologist, and Harvard professor, who believed the rise of single-mother households fundamentally caused Black poverty (The Atlantic).

Exploitative research extracts knowledge from oppressed communities without providing empowerment and resources. It views marginalized communities as objects to be studied and academics as the ones who establish the truth and decide the right solutions.

Many researchers do not come from or live in the communities they study. A 2011 NIH study revealed that of the principal investigators awarded R01 grant funding for research, 1.2% reported as Black, 3.4% reported as Latino, and less than 0.2% reported as Native (NIH). Only 11% of students from low-income families obtain a bachelor's degree, so very few researchers come from low-income communities (Ed Trust).

Health studies pinpointing health disparities without focus on solutions is a rising issue. “The inordinate focus on identifying rather than eliminating disparities in health sciences research comes from the top, from what research questions receive NIH [National Institutes of Health] funding and which researchers’ careers are supported,” Dr. Rhea Boyd M.D, a pediatrician and public health advocate, told Anti-Racism Daily.

Aminata Kouyate, a medical student at UCSF, stated, “My professor calls it the Health Disparities Industrial Complex. People are really out here making whole careers reporting on us dying but doing nothing to change that” (Twitter).

Community members are rarely involved in the design or execution of research projects. Many do not see study results because most academic research gets published in journals with subscriptions costing hundreds to thousands of dollars (Vox).

“When researchers do not share the findings with the community who provided the data or samples, they disable the community from making important interventions and from benefitting more generally from the evidence that results from their contributions,” Boyd explained.

Some research focuses on identifying issues that marginalized communities have discussed for years. When the biggest benefit to said communities would be sharing resources and skillsets to find and implement solutions.

In 2019, tech billionaire Marc Benioff donated $30 million to research houselessness (CNN). Houselessness isn’t exactly a new problem. Unhoused communities and advocates have expressed for years that escalating housing prices drive much of the crisis in the Bay Area (48 Hills, Teen Vogue). In 2019, SF had an estimated 8,035 unhoused people and 38,651 empty home units - when the median monthly income for a one-bedroom was $3,690.(CBS Bay Area, SFSF). That multi-million dollar gift could have housed every SF unhoused person for one year. Engaging with community organizations would have likely shown that the best help would have been to provide a direct housing benefit to the folks sleeping on the streets and in their cars.

San Francisco’s Coalition on Homelessness produced a report called “Stop the Revolving Door” which offers recommendations on how to address houselnessness. This report was produced using a methodology called Community-Based Participatory Action Research, which means community members – in this case, unhoused people in San Francisco – were involved in every step of the process from designing the survey to working as researchers. They created the most comprehensive report on houselessness ever conducted in the city (Coalition on Homelessness). While working on community-based research, the Coalition organizes alongside unhoused people on community priorities like housing subsidies and limiting police power to actively help fight against houselessness (Coalition on Homelessness).

Why do so many respected institutions still do predatory research? It has rewards. Academics and students build resumes and advance careers. Universities get grants. Charitable foundations can celebrate their “impact.” Rich donors get recognized as generous philanthropists. Everyone wins - except the folks from disadvantaged communities that remain afflicted.

Research can only help uplift disempowered people if researchers include community members as active subjects and engage them from a place of genuine respect and concern. Community-based research has to become the standard.

“Rather than a one-way process where researchers take data and stories out of the community to serve their own career interests, researchers should partner with communities to ask and answer questions that are of interest and benefit to communities members - remembering to return with the findings so the community can also start to elaborate their own solutions or implement their own interventions, based on the findings,” Boyd added.

Researchers should aim to genuinely want to improve lives, not simply get publications. Academia must grow humility along with its body of work.


Key Takeaways


  • A lot of research on high-risk communities is extractive instead of actively helping or uplifting these communities.

  • Many members of disadvantaged communities are not included in the research design, do not have access to research publications, and often do not get benefits from their participation.

  • Most researchers do not come from or have strong ties to the marginalized communities they study.

  • Community-based research models engage community members the most and help to empower their communities instead.


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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Analyze corporate commitments to racial equity.

But race is a social construct, and social constructs have social histories. Our The first place generating criticism is in financial commitments. Companies in the U.S. pledged a collective $50 billion to various racial initiatives (Financial Times), an unprecedented response to social issues (Washington Post). But, research indicates that only $250 million has actually been spent or committed to a specific initiative (Financial Times). William Cunningham, the chief executive of Creative Investment Research, who published the study, notes that until those funds are actually spent, there’s no reason they couldn’t be retracted or allocated to another initiative. Another survey found that tech companies that made commitments have 20% fewer Black employees on average than those that didn’t (Bloomberg), adding more skepticism to some organizations’ intentions.

Happy Monday, and welcome back to the daily newsletter! Today is a quick check-in on how corporate accountability has progressed since pledges made last year. I see this as an opportunity to both recognize pitfalls and explore the possibilities of where we can grow from here.


Thank you to everyone that supports our independent publishing! If you can, consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. I'm grateful for your support!

Nicole


TAKE ACTION



GET EDUCATED


By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

After the racial reckoning last summer, many companies quickly made broad public statements on how they can do better. But, one year later, research and testimony indicate that many haven’t lived up to their promises.

The first place generating criticism is in financial commitments. Companies in the U.S. pledged a collective $50 billion to various racial initiatives (Financial Times), an unprecedented response to social issues (Washington Post). But, research indicates that only $250 million has actually been spent or committed to a specific initiative (Financial Times). William Cunningham, the chief executive of Creative Investment Research, who published the study, notes that until those funds are actually spent, there’s no reason they couldn’t be retracted or allocated to another initiative. Another survey found that tech companies that made commitments have 20% fewer Black employees on average than those that didn’t (Bloomberg), adding more skepticism to some organizations’ intentions.

In addition, Jay Peters at The Verge adds context to the true amount of the commitments made by big tech companies. Although Apple’s commitment of $100 million, for example, sounds quite large, it’s relatively minuscule when considering that they made $6.3 million in profit every single hour last year (The Verge). This isn’t to discredit the clear impact that $100 million can make, but to emphasize how much more companies could do with lasting, consistent investment.

This graph, from the same The Verge article, adjusts corporate contributions to racial equity against the median U.S. salary of $63,179 to demonstrate how little, relatively, tech companies pledged.

Many also pledged to improve conditions internally by diversifying their talent pipeline, addressing barriers to employment eligibility, and increasing representation in the executive suite (Financial Times). But, a year later, many of those same large companies have yet to release their diversity metrics, making it challenging to quantify comprehensive change.

Ada*, a Black woman, watched this unfold at the financial services company she works for. The company publicly announced significant investments into companies owned by marginalized communities and plans to diversify its hiring practices. But the company has yet to share its metrics on hiring. “I’ve asked human resources for the data,” she explains, “but they say it’s tricky because they don’t have the accurate data. This makes no sense to me, considering they asked me my race/ethnicity on my job application.”

Khalia*, who worked in development at a national nonprofit organization, noted that her company made commitments to change internal culture last June. But, efforts that were implemented faded after a few months. “We had an ERG that met monthly to discuss areas where we could improve company culture. This space brought up a lot of things the executive leadership wasn’t aware of. But now, most of the people that initially joined don’t come to the meetings anymore, including those same leaders. It feels like an afterthought. And I don’t think we’ve actually changed anything for the better”. She ultimately left the organization because she desired a stronger commitment to the cause.

This scrutiny is compounded when considering how companies invested in equity initiatives before last summer. Because of COVID-19, jobs with titles like “chief diversity officer,” “diversity and inclusion recruiter,” or “D&I program manager” fell nearly 60 percent between early March and early June, according to the careers site Glassdoor (Washington Post). In comparison, jobs overall fell by 28%, and human resources roles fell by 49%, demonstrating that many companies felt like this was the best place to reduce costs. Since the murder of George Floyd and the subsequent protests, diversity job postings are surging. But filling the position isn’t enough; experts warn that these can be performative hires if leaders aren’t empowered and supported to guide corporate change (Axios).

Individuals, often employees of color, have taken on the task of carrying this work forward, regardless of their company’s investment. Ada has been intentional about incorporating initiatives to address systemic oppression and racism with her team, which she believes increases feelings of belonging and solidarity. “We have ongoing conversations, book clubs, watch movies, etc. My team has said that they look forward to it because they don’t have that outlet anywhere else.”

But individual employees aren’t the only ones taking note. Shareholders at major companies are pressuring executive leadership to perform racial audits for transparency and accountability (Forbes). Of seven big Wall Street banks, six urged shareholders to reject the proposals, despite the deep history of racial inequity in the financial sector (Inequality). Shareholders at Amazon, which is facing a slew of new allegations of racism and discrimination through its product offering and working conditions, are expected to vote on a racial audit on May 26 (Forbes).

Nevertheless, it’s important to recognize that all progress made so far – and how far we have to go has happened because each of us raise our voices and rally for change. “The only reason companies cared is because their employees did,” said Ada. “If people continue the momentum, there will be more accountability.” As the summer unfolds, continue to hold the organization you may work for, buy from, and engage with accountable to shift culture, both for employees and broader society.

We’d love to hear from our Black, Indigenous, and other readers of color: how has the company you work for respond to the events last year? How has it changed your experience working at your company? Reply to this email with your thoughts. 

*Names have been changed.



Key Takeaways


  • As we approach one year since the racial reckoning of last summer, individuals and shareholders are scrutinizing the pledges made by major corporations to addressing racial equity

  • Over $50B was pledged by major corporations to racial equity initiatives, but so far, an estimated $250M has been committed

  • A growing number of shareholders are voting for their corporations to perform racial audits for accountability


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Jami Nakamura Lin Nicole Cardoza Jami Nakamura Lin Nicole Cardoza

Seek solidarity, not charity.

Throughout 2020, more of us have heard about mutual aid than ever before. After COVID-19 started affecting people’s livelihoods, mutual aid networks popped up like never before—with new networks likely in the thousands (Sustainable Economies Law Center). The uprisings after George Floyd’s death also accelerated mutual aid; groups quickly came together to feed protesters (Eater), post bail (Chicago Community Bond Fund), and provide support in many other ways.

But the concept of mutual aid is much more deeply rooted than the simple act of Venmo-ing $15 to a stranger on Twitter.

Happy Tuesday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. Our email from last week on billionaire philanthropy was a hot topic; many of us were inspired to reflect more on how giving can skew our perception of change. Today, Jami is back with a broader look at charity and how it can help fuel inequitable systems.

This is the Anti-Racism Daily. We send one email each day with tangible ways to dismantle white supremacy. You can support our work by giving one time on our
website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). You can also give monthly or annually on Patreon. If this email was forwarded to you, you could subscribe at antiracismdaily.com.

ps – the early bird readers received an email yesterday with some major typos. I think I sent a draft, not the final email by accident.
A revised version was sent later and updated on our website. My apologies!

Nicole


TAKE ACTION


  • Get involved in the existing mutual aid networks in your area. Scroll down to the exhaustive, state-by-state list of resources at Mutual Aid Disaster Relief, or simply Google “ your city+mutual aid.” (Many of these networks appreciate non-financial support as well!) 

  • Evaluate what kinds of groups, organizations, or people you’ve given money to in the past. How did you evaluate whom to give to? Has the white savior complex infected your giving philosophy? 

  • Research the organizations you support. How do they stack up against Dean Spade’s chart on mutual aid vs. hierarchical charitable programs?


GET EDUCATED


By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

Throughout 2020, more of us have heard about mutual aid than ever before. After COVID-19 started affecting people’s livelihoods, mutual aid networks popped up like never before—with new networks likely in the thousands (Sustainable Economies Law Center). The uprisings after George Floyd’s death also accelerated mutual aid; groups quickly came together to feed protesters (Eater), post bail (Chicago Community Bond Fund), and provide support in many other ways. 

But the concept of mutual aid is much more deeply rooted than the simple act of Venmo-ing $15 to a stranger on Twitter.

“Mutual aid consists of the collective actions it takes to support community wellbeing and reaffirm that all lives have inherent value. We all have needs and we are all capable of helping each other to fulfill some of these needs. This approach is distinctively egalitarian and rooted in reciprocity and agency.”

"What is Mutual Aid? A Primer" by the Climate Justice Alliance.

One of the core tenets of mutual aid is the idea of solidarity, not charity. Solidarity involves collectively working together to solve the root causes of structural inequity, as trans activist and scholar Dean Spade outlines in a chart comparing mutual aid to nonprofits (DeanSpade.net). 
 

Meanwhile, the charity philosophy possesses an “inherent imbalance; it moves resources from places of abundance to places deemed as needy, a deficit-based perspective instead of one based on the values and abundance already present within communities” (Climate Justice Alliance). 

The concept of mutual aid (if not the specific term itself) has been practiced for generations, particularly among Black and Brown communities and immigrant populations. In the 1780s-1830s, Black “benevolent societies” developed in the northern states, wherein Black people— many previously enslaved— supported each other through voluntary cooperation (The Massachusetts Review). As documents from the era show, the “earliest mutual assistance societies among free blacks provided a form of health and life insurance for their members—care of the sick, burials for the dead, and support for widows and orphans” (National Humanities Center). 

Mutual aid is also central to many Indigenous cultures and economies, as the founder of the First Nations Development Institute explains in an interview for Yes! Magazine. Other historical examples of mutual aid include the mutualista societies that Mexican immigrants brought with them to Texas and the Black Panther free breakfast program (Sustainable Economies Law Center). I think of how, a couple years after my grandfather was released from a Japanese American incarceration camp, my grandfather ran out of money during a cross-country bus trip. He had to live in a Chicago bus station for a few weeks until he ran into a guy he’d known in camp, whose mother let him live in her boarding house rent-free for six months. 

For many of these Black and Brown and immigrant communities, mutual aid was not— and is not— a philosophical choice, but an act of “resilience and defiance, practiced out of necessity in the face of inequitable access to basic needs” (Sustainable Economies Law Center). Such communities often get overlooked by dominant aid structures. Grassroots projects dedicated to queer and trans Black and Brown people, for example, often don’t have enough funding because money gets funneled to bigger nonprofits that leave those communities behind (Zora).

Believing in the mission of mutual aid requires us to reflect deeply on our actions and our beliefs. It’s not just a matter of choosing what kind of people/organizations/projects we give our money or time to. It’s a matter of how we think about it. It’s easy for us to fall into the trap of white saviorism, for us to think we know better than the people we are giving to, for us to elevate ourselves higher while ignoring structural problems. As Teju Cole writes in his illuminating article in The Atlantic:

“The White Savior Industrial Complex is a valve for releasing the unbearable pressures that build in a system built on pillage. We can participate in the economic destruction of Haiti over long years, but when the earthquake strikes it feels good to send $10 each to the rescue fund. I have no opposition, in principle, to such donations (I frequently make them myself), but we must do such things only with awareness of what else is involved.” 

Many nonprofits function on the idea of charity, utilizing a hierarchical structure that keeps the power in the hands of the givers. They decide who is deserving and what they deserve. As Jennifer Seema Samimi explains, the “separation of social justice and social service provisions has silenced the people most directly affected by issues of injustice, and it privileges educated employees and board members of nonprofits” (Columbia Social Work Review). On the other hand,  the mutual aid framework focuses on keeping social justice at the center while empowering those most directly affected. 

When we redistribute funds, we need to remember our own position. Remember that “charity can do more harm than good because often people outside of the community dictate what the community itself needs, rather than based on what the community itself knows it needs” (Climate Justice Alliance). Believe in everyone’s own self-determination. Believe in the strength of solidarity and our own collective power. 


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • The concept of mutual aid has been practiced for generations, particularly in Black and Brown communities and immigrant populations often overlooked by other governmental and nonprofit aid. 

  • One of the core tenets of mutual aid is the idea of solidarity, not charity. Solidarity involves collectively working together to solve the root causes of structural inequity. 

  • Many nonprofits function on the idea of charity, utilizing a top-down, hierarchical structure that keeps the power in the hands of the givers. 


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Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

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Jami Nakamura Lin Nicole Cardoza Jami Nakamura Lin Nicole Cardoza

Question billionaire philanthropy.

On October 13th, Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg and his wife, Priscilla Chan, announced that they were donating another $100 million to support local election offices and polling places ahead of the presidential election (Washington Post). This money followed their earlier $300 million donation towards the same cause (Vox).

Hello and Happy Sunday. Because we're likely going to be deep into the election this week, let's spend today focusing on corporate America. Jami analyzes how billionaires are often more complicit in sustaining economic and racial inequities than solving them, and unpacks the racial philanthropy gap.

This is the Anti-Racism Daily, where we send one email each day to dismantle white supremacy. You can support our work by giving one time on our
website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). You can also donate monthly or annually on Patreon. If this email was forwarded to you, you could subscribe at antiracismdaily.com.

ps – if you can, vote.


TAKE ACTION


  • Read this Vox article that explains the racial philanthropy gap. 

  • Reflect on the corporations and businesses you support. How can you work towards advancing economic equality, instead of supporting corporations that further economic inequality?


GET EDUCATED


By Jami Nakamura Lin (she/her)

On October 13th, Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg and his wife, Priscilla Chan, announced that they were donating another $100 million to support local election offices and polling places ahead of the presidential election (Washington Post). This money followed their earlier $300 million donation towards the same cause (Vox). 

Many conservative groups decried the donations, accusing Zuckerberg of partisanship and election manipulation (The Press-Democrat). However, the bulk of the money is being funneled through the non-profit organization The Center for Tech and Civic Life, which is “regrant[ing] the money to local election officials so they can recruit poll workers, supply them with personal protective equipment, and set up drive-through voting” (Vox). The rest of the money is being distributed to Secretaries of State. 

However, there are still many other concerns with the funding (and with billionaire philanthropy in general). First, to use a popular metaphor, Zuckerberg’s money is like Band-aid over a bullet wound—the wound being how massively underfunded the elections are this year. This spring, Congressional Democrats and a wide coalition of civil rights organizations (including the Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights, NAACP, and Indivisible) pushed for at least $4 billion in state election assistance (Civilrights.org), but the bill that passed only included one-tenth of that (NPR). 

Instead, municipalities are using Zuckerberg’s money to fill in the gaps, to pay for necessities like ballot drop boxes, additional poll workers, and personal protective equipment (NY Times). This is problematic when we begin to rely on private money instead of pressuring the government to adequately fund our institutions (like when we normalize GoFundMe crowdfunding as an adequate replacement for affordable healthcare.) 

It’s sometimes difficult to critique such philanthropy because the money is filling a concrete need. Zuckerberg’s donation does increase voting access. But this type of action is an example of what writer and political analyst Anand Giradharadas describes as actions the ruling class (like Mark Zuckerberg and Jeff Bezos) takes to pretend that they are not, in fact, one of the sources of the problem. “This is the kind of change that allows you to stand on someone’s back while saying you’re helping them,” he explains (The Guardian). If they donate enough money, maybe we’ll forget about all their problematic, unethical business practices. 

"
Generosity is not a substitute for justice... One popular [move of the ruling class] is using generosity to obscure one’s own complicity in injustice. You commit an injustice and then rely on generosity on a much smaller scale to cover it up. This is the most obvious move. This happens often enough that when you see an act of plutocratic generosity you should at a minimum be skeptical.”

Anand Giridharadas, author of Winners Take All: The Elite Charade of Changing the World, via an interview with The Guardian

When Jeff Bezos made a $100 million donation to the nonprofit Feeding America in June (CNBC), the gift — which made all the headlines — also functioned as a publicity stunt). This kind of free publicity can work in a corporation’s favor; in Bezos’s case, such headlines might make us forget about Amazon’s consistently poor working conditions, which have become more dangerous during COVID-19 (Vox). The amount of money also seems shockingly large, until you break it down two ways: that the donation was just .07% of his wealth, and that it came out to just $2 for each of the 46 million Americans who rely on food banks (Nonprofit Quarterly). 

In January, Bezos was worth $115 billion (CNN), but by August, he became the first person to be worth $200 billion (Forbes) — the same amount as the net wealth of the entire country of Ecuador. In a year when millions of people across the world have lost their jobs and financial stability, when his company refuses to provide data about coronavirus outbreaks to its workers, Bezos gained $85 billion, due to our global ever-growing dependence on Amazon. Meanwhile, his workers can’t even find out if there’s a coronavirus outbreak at their own warehouse (NBC). 

In short: this system of philanthropy is used to “reinforce a politico-economic system that enables such a small number of people to accumulate obscene amounts of wealth… and serves to legitimise capitalism, as well as to extend it further and further into all domains of social, cultural and political activity” (The Guardian). 

Again, it can be difficult to critique when many of the causes these billionaires support — like racial equality — are things we also believe in. But this version of philanthropy can reek of white saviorism, and can lead to a disturbing dynamic wherein “communities of color come… are forced to beg philanthropic grant makers for resources that... were earned through processes of exploitation in the first place” (Vox). 

To fight racism, we must address our society’s economic inequality. Our past newsletters have addressed the massive wealth disparities between white households and households of color. And when we look deeply at the racial and class divides in this country, we understand that no matter how much these billionaires give away, they’ll never make up for what they’re taking from the rest of America.


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Billionaire philanthropy often serves as a way for leaders of corporations to “commit an injustice and then rely on generosity on a much smaller scale to cover it up” (Anand Giridharadas via The Guardian)

  • Jeff Bezos’s net worth has increased by over $85 billion this year — at the same time his Amazon warehouse workers suffer grueling, unsafe warehouse conditions.

  • To fight racism, we must address economic inequality. 


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Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

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