In the spring of 2020, everything changed.
Everything changed first over COVID-19. People worked from home, others lost their jobs. Overnight, our plans changed. Our needs changed. And the organizations we counted on to meet those needs – they had to change as well.
And something else was happening too. The same week North Carolina closed its schools, a woman named Breonna Taylor was shot and killed by police in Louisville. Two months later, George Floyd was killed in Minneapolis. And as people flooded the streets in protest, once again, we realized things had to change.
It’s now been three years since that spring. What have we learned from our experience? What lessons have we taken away? What changes have we made? And which of those changes will last?
“Three Years” is a series by 97.9 The Hill’s Aaron Keck – looking back on our memories and lessons learned from our collective experience, drawn from conversations with numerous government officials, nonprofit heads, scholars and thought leaders in the Chapel Hill-Carrboro community.
Click here for the entire 15-part series.
Listen to Chapter 8:
Chapter 8: The Mission
So here’s the reason I’m doing this:
Not long ago, I was speaking with someone who frequently volunteers for a local nonprofit – and they were telling me about how their leadership was having deep conversations about their mission, in the wake of the 2020 racial justice movement.
We care about racial equity, but are we actually promoting equity? Or are we inadvertently reinforcing inequity, in the way we’re organized and the way we provide service?
Then I thought: if that nonprofit is having those conversations, then probably lots of other nonprofits are having those conversations too.
They were.
“I think it made us hyper-conscious of the role that we play, in terms of the services that we offer and who has access to those services,” says Rachel Bearman of Orange County Meals on Wheels. “We have claimed as an organization that we have a very low barrier to entry, but there are other ways that we don’t think about.”
Down in Chatham County, the CORA Food Pantry was rethinking its own service model as well.
“We started to think about just making sure that we serve the people we serve and allow them the most dignity possible in the process,” says executive director Melissa Driver Beard. “It’s difficult to ask for help, and we’ve tried to make that as easy and as equitable as we can.”
Like many nonprofits, CORA’s staff went through diversity, equity, and inclusion training (DEI for short) in an effort to ensure that the organization was promoting social justice, rather than reinforcing existing inequities. But there are no easy solutions.
“I think it’s hard,” says development and communications director Rebecca Hankins, “because, you know, I don’t know if CORA can get to the root causes of social injustice. So I think we can just be understanding of it, and just work as a staff and a community and a group of volunteers who are compassionate and serve everybody with dignity.”
How can an organization be a positive force for social justice? Different nonprofits tackled that question in different ways. Some made changes to their service models. Others made changes to their boards and their staffs, to make sure the recipients of a service also had a role in providing that service.
And it’s not just about the relationship between providers and recipients. At Orange County Habitat for Humanity, president and CEO Jennifer Player tells me their biggest revelations came from within.
“We had started working with a local group called Biwa Emergent Equity,” Player says, “and we thought it was going to be external, looking at our programs and our mission and how we do that in an equitable way. But really, it was taking a hard look in the mirror at our culture. How do we balance the needs of the individual with the needs of the organization, and how do we see people in their humanity versus just for the role that we play?”
That meant reimagining Habitat’s relationship, not just with the people they served, but also with the staffers and volunteers who made the organization function.
“And so we were forced to start really walking the walk,” Player says. “Throughout COVID, the staff remained as committed as ever. Our staff keeps showing up for us. So how do we show up for them? How do we center employees’ wellness and their personal needs, as much as we do their productivity?”
Player says they started that process with increased transparency, sharing Habitat’s financial numbers every week – but that was only the beginning.
“What they challenged us to do was to begin looking at the culture,” she says, “and to name specific behaviors. Folks on the construction site who would say, ‘this person always gets my name wrong.’ Or – one example that an employee shared, (he’s) a Black man, he had only worked (with a vendor) virtually, over the phone, and then they met in person and this vendor said, oh my gosh, I didn’t know you were Black. I thought you were White. And so he’s processing, how do I feel about that? And the culture now that we had created was that he felt he had permission to honor himself, in that moment, and to go back to that person and say, ‘Hey, this is how you made me feel.’ So being able to process what that’s like – but also being able to name it, and address it, and deal with it from all levels of the organization.”
Back at Meals on Wheels, Rachel Bearman says their focus was on how they treated the people they serve.
“Much of our communication between our recipients and the office happens through volunteers,” she says. “And we have a heightened awareness now that we all have ingrained biases of how we view things. (So) how can we ensure that we have a better understanding of that relationship, and how that might impact what’s being seen, or the type of surface we offer, or the type of services we think might be needed?”
But the movement for equity and social justice also had another surprising consequence, reinforcing something that was already underway in the wake of COVID-19.
It also spurred organizations to come together with each other.
“We know we serve a very particular service in the community,” says Bearman. “But there are so many other amazing organizations and nonprofits who do great work. What is the collective power that we can have by working together?”
I ask her how that plays out in practice.
“On a personal level, (it involves) me actively reaching out and engaging with others in nonprofit organizations, really understanding the work they do. And what are the intersections? None of these issues are separated. We want to talk about poverty, food insecurity, homelessness, education, right? These all have interconnections. (How can we) support affordable housing in our community? (How can we) support our school systems and education? What can we do to enter into the food chain at an earlier stage, so maybe there’s less need by the time you’re an older adult to need our services?”
That’s in keeping with a deeper recognition: that a truly just and equitable society is one where none of these organizations need to exist in the first place.
“If we really want to fulfill our mission, then that means engaging outside of our specific sphere, because only then are we going to be able to change,” says Bearman. “(And) some of those partnerships have already extended into – what kind of questions can we be asking of our recipients? What kind of questions can (other organizations) be asking of the people they serve, so that maybe there’s an intersection between what we do?
“We’ve talked a lot, on our end, about medically tailored meals, more culturally specific meals. How can we do a better job? Who do we need to connect with in the community, to be able to do those things? (And) what can we also put our name on? What can we support out in the community, so that when another nonprofit is doing something, Meals on Wheels is also there, (recognizing) that these are all interconnected issues?”
“Is that just a Meals on Wheels thing?” I ask. “Or are you seeing that generally among all nonprofits?”
“I’ve seen it throughout the pandemic,” she answers. “There were coalitions that came together around food insecurity, around issues dealing with seniors. And this was not happening before the pandemic: (asking) what were the needs out there, who was showing up regularly, how could we better serve across the spectrum, were there opportunities for resource sharing?
“You know, we were all in the same boat of having the difficulty of access to food and supplies. So there was this sense of coming together and sharing that information and resources.”
Click here for the entire 15-part series.
Featured photo via Orange County Habitat for Humanity.
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