Robin Hood Was Right

Cynthia Peters

The Newtown Florist Club in Gainesville, Georgia was a group of African American churchwomen that brought flowers to the sick. After a while, they noticed that a lot of the sick had gotten that way because of environmental problems. The Newtown churchwomen made a connection between the disease in their community and the fact that they lived on top of the old city dump, as well as played host to numerous emission-producing industries. In addition to delivering flowers, the churchwomen began offering “toxic tours” of their neighborhood to visitors. They sued local polluters, convinced others to reduce emissions or relocate, and, while they were at it, sued the local school district for violating civil rights laws.

They went from providing a service to trying to understand why people needed the service in the first place. They received support for their efforts from a social change foundation called Fund for Southern Communities.

The Newtown Florist Club is a quirk in one way: they got money. There are thousands of church-, community-, and school-based efforts that might make the connection between their charitable work and the root causes of the problems they are trying to address. But they are not likely to get funding. Of the $19.46 billion given away by private foundations in 1998, only 2.4 percent of that total was dispersed by foundations committed to social change (according to an article by Noy Thrupkaew in “Sojourner,” May 2000).

This has got to change, say Chuck Collins, Pam Rogers, and Joan P. Garner, the authors of “Robin Hood Was Right: A Guide to Giving Your Money for Social Change,” a new book produced in conjunction with the Haymarket People ’s Fund. “On the surface, social change movements appear to be spontaneous bursts of energy, a sweep of people, outraged, rising to demand a change. But in truth they flow from careful organizing, massive public education, sustained agitation, and at times inspired collaboration across the divides of race, gender, and class. These movements are driven by human energy, intelligence, courage – and money.” (p. 39)

If you are cynical about social change, pessimistic that your support will have a meaningful impact, or immobilized by guilt or ignorance regarding management of your money, the “Robin Hood” authors are sympathetic, but they want you to get over it. Whether you are wealthy or just comfortable, you should use your resources to support social change. Your money and time should go towards organizations that are addressing the root causes of inequality and oppression, rather than dispensing Band-Aids to the disenfranchised. And they wrote this book to show you how. It is well written, concise, full of social change stories straight from the grassroots, illuminating quotes from progressive donors, and plenty of concrete advice about everything from the nuts and bolts of hiring a financial consultant to the emotional issues connecting self-worth and net worth.

Even if you barely have a net worth (in the financial sense), this book has a message for you. Writing in that hard-to-achieve tone that mixes passion and matter-of-fact common sense, the authors argue that you should give. Give money. Give time. Give a lot if you have it. Or give a little if you can. Giving is a sensible choice, they argue, even though injustice can sometimes seem insurmountable, because organizing works. And well funded organizing works better.

But don’t give of your time and money indiscriminately. Specifically:

-- Aim at root causes, not symptoms. -- Build collective responses, not individual solutions, to problems. -- Change attitudes, behavior, laws, policies, and institutions the better to reflect values of inclusion, fairness, and diversity. -- Insist on accountability and responsiveness in such institutions as government, large corporations, and universities. -- Expand democracy by involving those closest to social problems in determining their solution. (p. 36-37)

It’s a big agenda, the authors acknowledge, and one that will be hard to hold onto if you don’t develop ways to sustain yourself and remain hopeful along the way. This is where vision comes in. “Analysis helps us understand what’s wrong, how it got that way, and, most important, how change can occur. Imagination enables us to envision new possibilities.” (p. 61) What a rare pleasure it is to come across this reminder in a progressive book on any topic! Surely, indignation, anger and sadness motivate us to fight injustice, but vision reminds us of what we want to affirm, fight for, and achieve. Vision nurtures hope, and hope sustains lifelong activists.

One of the strengths of this book is that it “connects the dots”: it persuasively makes the case that radical social change giving is the right thing to do and then it tells you how to do it. Chapters on socially responsible investing, giving to foundations, and direct giving include practical information all couched in the authors’ political commitment to diversity, democracy, and radical social change. Thus, if you decide to donate your money to a foundation, and let the foundation give it away, the authors want to make sure you give to a progressive foundation – one dedicated to “Change, Not Charity,” one that takes leadership from grassroots community by staffing its board with local activists, and one that makes decisions based on thorough information (not insider connections). This is an important point. Not only do we want to support organizations that build democracy; we want to give money away democratically. Progressive, community-led foundations are one way to share the power and decision-making capability that comes with wealth.

While we applaud the growth of democratically-run social change foundations, let’s keep asking questions about how money gets spent on the left. Although 2.4% is a small fraction of the whole, in 1998, it amounted to $46.7 million – all funneled through social change foundations. Whom and what did that money go to? Did it help build an infrastructure – such as alternative media – to support a movement? Was it used efficiently by democratic organizations that do NOT recreate class, race and gender imbalances?

From personal experience and anecdotal evidence, it seems to me we have lots of small groups putting disproportionate amounts of energy into fundraising – only successfully enough to scrape by and continue the cycle of small budget constraints and crisis management. What do Robin Hood’s recipients think of his distribution methods? Perhaps it’s unrealistic to expect to hear honestly from those who depend on Robin Hood’s good will, but in an ongoing effort to democratize the process, we should create ways for movement people think more strategically (and then be heard!) about how money circulates amongst us, whether we support each other or compete for it, and how we might create a structure that allows us to spend less time fundraising and more time organizing.