Power Station

Nonprofits tackle what lies beneath the economic and social crisis that rocks our nation. They organize, litigate and advocate to undo discriminatory policies based on race, immigration status and sexual orientation. Increasingly, nonprofits, including The National LGBTQ Task Force, are using an intersectional prism to guide their advocacy. Intersectionality, a concept developed by scholar Kimberlee Crenshaw, demonstrates that our identities (socioeconomic, race and gender) intersect in ways that impact how we are viewed, understood and treated. This prism also reveals how privilege and marginalization operate. As Meghan Maury, Policy Director for The Task Force explains, battling discrimination is not enough. LGBTQ people are also over-represented in homeless shelters and the criminal justice and immigration systems. And the Task Force is active on all fronts. Valuing intersectionality is reflected in a staff comprised primarily by people of color, people with disabilities and with lived experiences of homel

How are young people processing the chaos of the current moment and how can we support them? We are all confronted by circumstances we did not foresee and cannot control. COVID19 has pummeled this nation, robbing low-wage workers of their jobs and far too many, of their lives. And the killing of George Floyd, a Black man, at the hands of police officers, catapulted us into protests that continue today. The sense of uncertainty is palpable. But we are adults and have at least some agency over our situations. For young people in communities color, the challenges are more complex. They are suddenly attending school online, confined to homes that are under stress and may lack access to Wi-Fi. Lauren Grimes is one adult who stepped up for young people long before these dual pandemics launched a national conversation about racial justice. A rising professional in the federal government, Lauren founded The Community Enrichment Project to spur youth civic engagement in Washington DC’s Wards 7 & 8. She is engaging

It took years of activism by community leaders before Congress enacted the Community Reinvestment Act in 1977. This legislation was meant to undo redlining, decades of discrimination by banks against African Americans, Latinx and other non-white people seeking mortgages and small business loans. It required bank lending and accountability and made it possible for affected communities to participate in the oversight process. As Paulina Gonzalez Brito explains on Power Station, this lack of access to capital led to a wealth stripping industry by predatory actors, primarily payday lenders, that continues today. As executive director of the California Reinvestment Coalition, which engages 300 organizations across the state in requiring banks to meet their CRA obligations, Paulina now leads a vigorous campaign to prevent the Trump Administration from dismantling this key civil rights law. The story of who is leading this assault, and how, is essential listening. The pandemic of racism calls for action and saving t

Self-determination is a deeply embedded value within the National American Indian Housing Council. It is the driving force for its members, leaders from 570 tribes who advocate for the housing needs of American Indians, Alaska Natives and Native Hawaiians in 32 states. The shortage of affordable housing is a national crisis and is even more nuanced in native communities. Tribes own and manage their own housing stock and must navigate many levels of municipal, state and federal governance. And they often operate in rural areas, where a lack of running water and heating speak to profound infrastructure problems. It is all the more noteworthy, then, that NAIHC, led by executive director Tony Walters, has moved Congress to commit considerable funding to native housing in CARES Act legislation. It reflects a congressional recognition of the disproportionate impact of COVID19 in native communities, attributed in part to overcrowding in tribal housing, which makes social distancing impossible. Tony brings his lived

Our democracy is imploding and that is not hyperbole. Across the nation, communities are protesting the murder of an African American man by a White police officer who carried out this execution under the watchful eyes of devastated onlookers, including a young woman who captured the images on her phone. And the pandemic that is ravaging communities of color is by no means over. How can ambitious champions of change be effective in these times? The best social change nonprofits are advocating for Congress to invest in communities that have been under resourced, segregated and marginalized for generations. That is how the National Low-Income Housing Coalition approaches their mission of increasing access to decent and affordable housing for lowest income people. In this episode of Power Station, Sarah Saadian tells us how NLIHC mobilizes a diverse constituency of public housing residents and authorities, local housing and homeless serving groups, municipal and national leaders, to secure resources now, through

If you want to understand why the United States has the most expensive and worst performing health care system among developed countries, in terms of access, equity, efficiency, and outcomes, you have a unique and vital resource in Families USA. For forty years, this national nonprofit has investigated every aspect of our broken bureaucracy, from the cost of prescription drugs to the politicization of Medicare to the implicit bias deep within our delivery systems. And it has used this understanding to inform and engage consumers, from those willing to share their lived experiences to community-based health organizations in every state to the media and policymakers in state houses and on Capitol Hill. Families USA Executive Director Frederick Isasi joins Power Station to talk about how the powerful stressor that is COVID19 has rocked this fragile system and exposed its profound weaknesses. He believes in, and Families USA is based on, a theory of change that honors the perspective and experience of many while

While we worry about how to restore our democracy, Jonathan Mehta Stein knows that in disenfranchised communities, many people feel that democracy has not worked for them at all. This is the starting point that Jonathan, the newly appointed executive director of Common Cause California, embraces. He is a civil rights attorney who believes that at this moment in time, relying on litigation and legislation alone is not enough. He argues that we need more community organizing to inspire those who have been left behind to believe that voting can make a difference for them. The stakes are high as we head into the most consequential election of our lifetime. While voting in America is a fundamental right, the election process varies across municipalities and is comprised by under-resourced bureaucracies, entrenched party politics and racism. And a devastating global pandemic raises deep concerns about how to carry out fair elections in 2020. California has raised the bar on lowering barriers to voting. Now the chal

Small businesses have been devastated by COVID19, and by extension, so have their owners, workers and communities. We are talking about true small businesses, not Shake Shack or Ruth’s Christ Steak House. Their role in our economy is so significant that Congress appropriated federal funding for them through the Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) within the CARES Act. What is a Community Development Financial Institution? The CDFI Fund, a program within the US Department of Treasury, deploys capitol into communities where banks do not exist or fail to meet community needs. They are run by nonprofits and mission-driven lenders that build affordable housing and launch businesses. CDFIS are having a moment and it is long overdue. On MSNBC, the owner of Mabel’s, a celebrated restaurant, credited a CDFI with attaining the funds she needs to keep her doors open. And the New York Times just reported on the campaign to fund CDFIs at $1 billion in the next spending bill. This is the life’s work of John Holdsclaw, Execut

Can we ensure that the Decennial Census, our most inclusive civic enterprise, will not become a casualty of the COVID19 pandemic? The answer is unfolding in real time. Nonprofits have spent years mounting campaigns to combat an historical undercount in communities of color, of children, immigrants and LGBTQ people. Fortunately, some people and organizations, thrive in challenging times and that is definitely the case with Lizette Escobedo, who directs the Census 2020 campaign for the National Association of Latino Elected Officials (NALEO). Lizette leads operations in 6 states where Latinx communities stand ready to be counted, despite the president’s attempt to add a citizenship question to the Census. Lizette is motivated by a desire to see her community counted so that more federal resources are deployed as needed and district lines are drawn equitably. And she sees opportunity in the chaos: a longer timeline, tech companies stepping up to create hot spots and a deepened staff capacity to operate digitally

Gallup polls indicate that Americans have lost confidence in Congress, the courts and the media but one institution, the library, remains a trusted resource. Libraries provide access to books, computers, literacy classes, and social services, often in partnership with nonprofits. And while we may perceive libraries as static, they are evolving organizations. In fact, the American Library Association, in conjunction with national civil rights groups, spent 2019 preparing to become the go-to resource, for those lacking digital connectivity, to complete their 2020 Census. They recognized that to generate a full and accurate count of everyone in this country, regardless of citizenship status, required their hands-on engagement. Now, given closures due to the pandemic, libraries are pivoting again. They continue to serve communities and advocate for a complete Census count, primarily digitally. And some institutional change is inspired by librarians themselves. Ana Ndumu, Assistant Professor of Information Service

We are all uncertain about life in the aftermath of the COVID19 pandemic. We know that what unfolds is most consequential for those who have lost family members, jobs, and housing. For those whose work is to improve the quality of life in lower income and immigrant families, the question looms large. Nonprofits and think tanks that develop solutions with and for these communities, are seeing the issues they work on exposed to a world stage. There is a heightened focus on the economic fragility of low-income workers and on racial and gender disparities in pay, health care, and housing. This is the work that Indivar (Indi) Dutta-Gupta leads as Co-Executive Director of the Center on Poverty and Inequality at Georgetown University. He is motivated to find solutions to what are often considered intractable problems. His tools include socio-economic research, legislative strategies and advocacy with policy makers. In his policy shop, racial and gender equity is more than a lens added on to the work. Equity is core

In 110 Power Station episodes, one consistent theme resonates: Change making is based in intentionality. It starts by identifying inequities, analyzing who is impacted, building a constituency of impacted people, and advocating for the policies and resources required to achieve systemic change. Rebecca Sive is a change maker. She champions women’s leadership in politics, corporations and nonprofits. As she points out, no sector, including nonprofits, is immune to the sexism and racism that blocks women from executive leadership and diminishes their voices within organizational structures. Her new book, Vote Her In, is a guide to electing the first woman president and her podcast of the same name is a platform for women who have toppled glass ceilings and have lessons to share. And while Rebecca is disheartened that four highly qualified women did not rise to become our democratic candidate for President, she is not defeated. She believes the movement for a woman president is growing. And she is seizing every

As a nation, we are learning, in real time, how to function and survive in a pandemic. We look for national leadership rooted in integrity and competence. And we are finding that, not in our president, but from governors, mayors, medical professionals and, while less recognized, nonprofit leaders. Nonprofits continue to serve communities, even in a lock-down. Housing groups are organizing online for spending bills that support lowest-income renters, homeless people and shelter providers. Nonprofit credit unions are counseling small business owners in how to sustain themselves in an economic shutdown. And Asian Americans Advancing Justice/AAJC continues to help all communities to participate in Census 2020. It is also working with a cohort of AAPI serving organizations to track a terrible upswing in violence against Asian Americans. John believe that this violence is entirely predictable given a president who has used every opportunity to identify COVID19 as the Chinese or Wuhan virus. In this episode of Power

Think about this: messaging campaigns about complex issues, from climate change to drug pricing, have 280 characters in a tweet (up from 140) and less then 20 seconds of audio, to inform and persuade. Celinda Lake, renowned pollster and political strategist, helps labor unions, nonprofit advocates and political hopefuls to craft messaging based on research gained from focus groups, surveys and message testing. In a conversation with Power Station, Celinda says that Lake Research Partners approaches its work with two core values, the importance of government and the imperative of inclusivity, in advancing progressive social change. When issues are reframed based on these values and information gained from testing, the resulting messages change how issues, organizations and politicians are perceived. It turns out that empathy, not fear, motivates people to respond with an open mind. And because we are all operating in the context of a global pandemic, Celinda raises the opportunities and risks of advocacy there

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed our nation’s dysfunctional systems, but it also reveals what works. As our president equivocates about what can be done, mayors and governors are stepping up to fill the void. They are setting up testing sites, procuring ventilators, and building hospital units. And nonprofit leaders are using their expertise to advocate for families and communities. The National Low-Income Housing Coalition is organizing calls to members of Congress to ask them to include protections for homeless people in their spending bills. NALEO Educational Fund is helping immigrant families to participate in the 2020 Census. And Carla Decker, President and CEO of DC Credit Union, is maintaining 2 open branches (with social distancing and caution) to serve members. They include dislocated workers from DC’s normally booming hospitality industry, new immigrants and multi-generational African American households who are not adequately served by mainstream financial institutions. Credit union members receiv

  It is safe to say that we are living in extremely stressful times. The president rules more than governs and his rhetoric and policies reflect and encourage overt acts of racism and sexism. His relentless focus on border walls and deportations have created chaos in immigrant communities. And now we are grappling with COVID-19, a pandemic for which we are unprepared, and which the president framed, calling it the Wuhan virus, in xenophobic terms. The failure to respond quickly to this crisis, raises questions about our health care system, insurance industry, income security for low wage workers, and access to food for children when public schools are closed. This is the environment in which we try to contribute to our communities, stay healthy and whole. But these conditions take a toll on our physical and mental health. This is why the American Psychological Association engages its 118,000 members in advocating for reforms of public policy based in racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia and mor

What happens when a nonprofit decides to make a shift and tackle its mission at a deeper level? That is the journey that Bread for the City, frontline service provider to Washington DC’s lowest-income residents started on 8 years ago. Since its founding in 1974, BFC has been the go-to resource for people in need of food, clothing, medical and legal assistance. It modeled how to provide high-quality services with, as BFC promises, “dignity, respect and justice.” The shift began in the aftermath of the Trayvon Martin killing, which profoundly jarred the community, including BFC’s staff. That tragedy spurred a conversation about the deep-seated impacts of structural racism in Black and Brown communities. Chief Executive Officer, George Jones began to reconsider his race neutral approach to the work. He signed himself up, with staff and community members, for an ‘Undoing Racism’ workshop, which examined how racist policies created the conditions faced by those seeking their help. This transformative experience le

What makes an advocacy organization exceptional? It starts with a vision for tackling inequity that engages constituents in advocating for themselves. In the case of the National Low-Income Housing Coalition, it is a dedication to social policy that ensures decent housing for our nation’s lowest-income renters. These are residents of public and subsidized housing - families with children, seniors, the disabled and low-wage workers - who are often one step away from homelessness and are actively engaged in the Coalition’s organizational infrastructure and advocacy campaigns. The Coalition achieves its mission through an integrated set of strategies: communications, organizing, and data-driven advocacy. As Sarah Saadian, VP of Public Policy, explains, the Coalition is laser focused on building congressional support for federal housing appropriations with residents engaged in the advocacy. The membership strategy is similarly intentional. Instead of the traditional trade association model, Coalition members incl

How is it possible for laws that determine the fate of Muslim Americans to be decided without them having a seat at the decision-making table? That is the power imbalance that motivated the launch of Muslim Advocates by Farhana Khera in 2005. Muslim Advocates works “in communities, the courts and in Congress”, to expose and address discriminatory public policies and corporate practices impacting the lives of our nation’s over 400 Muslim Americans. The challenges faced by Muslim Americans require more than legal and legislative solutions. Our news media needs to tell the stories of who Muslim Americans are and how their lives have been impacted by misguided policy actions. Those include Mayor Bloomberg’s surveillance of community members simply for being Muslim and President Trump’s recently expanded Muslim Travel Ban. As Scott Simpson, Muslim Advocates Director of Policy Advocacy, explains to Power Station, working in partnership with other civil rights champions is critical to raising the profile of Muslim A

PFLAG may not be the most high-profile LGBTQ+ organization, but it is the oldest, largest and the first, in 1973, to create a safe space for the parents, friends and families of LGBTQ+ youth. It was organized by Jeanne Manford, after seeing her son Morty, a young gay man, beaten at a demonstration covered on the nightly news. She became his advocate, joining him at a gay rights rally wearing a sign that read, Parents of Gays United in Support for Our Children. She was applauded by young people appreciative of her support. From this experience, PFLAG was founded and is now powered by 400 volunteer chapters across the country. Its pillars of support, education and advocacy describe these chapters: places to be heard, learn, and stand up for loved ones. Advocacy takes place in hearings on Capitol Hill and in state capitols, where hostile political environments are generating punitive legislation, often aimed at transgender youth. The work is challenging but executive director Brian Bond remains positive, he says