Power Station

When three urban planning students launched the news magazine Next City in 2003, they were pushing against the prevailing cultural tide. As their peers were building careers in emerging technologies, they were hyper focused on urban communities beset with deteriorated housing, broken transit systems and environmental hazards.  Politicians and the media often characterized urban areas as places to escape and blamed community members for their circumstances. But founders Adam Gordon, Seth A. Brown, and Anika Singh knew that these conditions were legacies of disinvestment, redlining and other policies based in racial exclusion. And they believed that residents with first-hand experience were best suited to generate solutions to their problems. Structured as a nonprofit news organization, Next City approaches its coverage of cities with intentionality and rigor. Senior Economics Correspondent Oscar Perry Abello reports on resident led initiatives: commercial corridors developed from vacant properties and cooperat

Since its founding 10 years ago, Alliance for Youth Action has transformed how nonprofits build power and strengthen democracy in America. It was launched by young people who had seen first-hand what is possible when people in low-income and communities of color organize to access their voting rights, stop the separation of children from their immigrant parents and repair environmental degradation. They knew that local organizing is where progressive changemaking happens and that investing in a federation of autonomous on-the-ground nonprofits could create a national movement for a racially and economically just nation. As happens when young people are at the helm, they saw a problem and they fixed it. They launched the Alliance, a national nonprofit that provides unrestricted funds, technical support, and capacity-building to 20 federation members in 18th states. All are youth-focused, youth-led, and demonstrably effective. Dakota Hall, who now leads the Alliance, discovered his passion and talent for organi

If the last several years have taught us anything it is that democracy is fragile. And that all of us need to engage with the systems, institutions and policy processes that determine our collective fates. It takes nonprofit organizations with community roots, technical expertise, and advocacy capacities to make that level of social progress possible. The Center for Law and Social Policy (CLASP), one of the nation’s leading anti-poverty organizations, emerged 50 years ago to highlight and address the needs of low-income Americans. It is now led by Indivar Dutta-Gupta, whose deep policy expertise and valuing of those living at the margins of our economy are setting the course for CLASP’s latest evolution. His team produces evidence-based research, informed by impacted communities, to shape legislative and regulatory solutions. They share their recommendations with decision makers in city halls, state legislatures and on Capitol Hill and are on-hand to ensure that new laws are implemented to ensure the greatest

It is shocking, but no longer surprising, that the hate and disinformation which permeates social media provokes real-life harms. Conspiracy theories promulgated by a small cadre of hatemongers persuaded thousands to reject life-saving vaccines leading to preventable deaths. Children persecuted by anti-LGBTQ groups have succumbed to suicide. White nationalist groups breached the Capitol on January 6, based on an internet-based lie, that the presidential election had been stolen. This is the unsafe social media ecosystem that the Center for Countering Digital Hate, led by Imran Ahmed, intends to end. In 2016, Imran experienced the brutal murder of his colleague, member of Parliament Jo Cox, attacked during the referendum on whether the United Kingdom should remain in the European Union. The far-right Britain First party targeted MP Cox as a “traitor to white people,” setting her murder in action. CCDH counters social media companies’ failure to enforce their own code of ethics, a legislative framework that is

The year was 1881 when 17 women gathered for an unprecedented meeting called by recent college graduate Margaret Talbot and her mentor, Ellen Swallow Richards. Having defied social norms by attending college and pursuing careers they were determined to increase women’s access to higher education. Their persistence led to the founding of the American Association for University Women, which has championed the civil, educational, and economic rights of women for 140 years. AAUW is devoted to achieving equal pay for women and to closing a pay gap, that disproportionately harms Black women and Latinas. Gloria Blackwell, who started her career educating girls in sub-Saharan Africa, led several of AAUW’s signature initiatives, including its celebrated Fellowship program and trainings in salary negotiations, before becoming its President and CEO. She honors the women who came before her by engaging a new generation of girls in fighting stereotypes to excel in STEM, advocating for paid family leave, affordable childca

Words are powerful. Whether Patrice Sulton is telling the story of Washington DC’s criminal justice system or drafting legislation to overhaul it, she uses hers to advance bold changes in its policing, courts, and jails. For years, as a criminal defense and civil rights attorney, Patrice saw first-hand what the data confirms: virtually all criminalized people in this city are poor, Black, and native Washingtonians. In 2020, she founded DC Justice Lab to reimagine failed systems through research, legislation and litigation tailored to this city’s specific issues, including having among the worst jails in the nation. As Patrice explains, DC Justice Lab is laser-focused on DC-centric solutions. And she is equally committed to drafting bills in-house and not outsourcing this role to national organizations without deep community roots. Moving policy makers and city residents who see themselves as progressive to act on their stated values is an ongoing challenge. At DC Justice Lab, Patrice is building a movement fo

Every great organization has a compelling origin story. In the case of Native American Youth and Family (NAYA) Center, parents and elders came together in the 1970s, concerned about the low graduation rate, only 24%, of Native students in the Portland, Oregon school system. Their organizing generated after-school programming and eventually, in 1994, led to the nonprofit incorporation of the NAYA Center, which now serves the entire community from infancy to elders. And the needs are profound, from housing to hunger, a legacy of broken treaties and the displacement of 381 tribes from their land starting in the late 1800s. Paul Lumley (Yakama), executive director of the Naya Center, is proud that its Many Nations Academy for 9th to 12th graders, embraces all students and supports them in seeing the value in themselves. Many of the students are homeless, some because they identity as Two Spirit, the indigenous term for LGBTQ, and have been rejected by their families. Paul’s next step is to build a residential hal

What would your nonprofit be able to achieve with a law firm on its side? This question was tested when, in the wake of the 2016 presidential election, a small group of experienced litigators launched Democracy Forward, taking on the Trump administration’s assaults on the voting, environmental, immigration, reproductive, and health care rights of low income and communities of color. They quickly mobilized a team of legal, communications and policy experts and partnered with nonprofits working on the frontlines of civil and human rights advocacy. Democracy Forward prevailed against attempts to undermine the Affordable Care Act, terminate Teen Pregnancy Prevention Programs, and halt illegal investigations of individual’s voting histories. And since the election of President Biden in 2020, the drumbeat of right-wing antagonism towards democratic policies and institutions continues. Democracy Forward is expanding its staff and array of legal interventions, including deep engagement in the regulatory process, to m

The seeds of America’s subjugation of low income, indigenous, and people of color were planted at our founding. Ever since, public leaders have codified policies that strip these communities of wealth and power. It has taken social movements, including bold nonprofits, to demand equal rights and structural change. This divisive moment in history calls for collective action rooted in 21st century strategies. Media Justice, led by exceptional change maker Steven Renderos is laser focused on democratizing our media and technology sectors, largely unregulated industries with outsized influence on our culture and politics. News outlets and tech companies are willing purveyors of racist and misogynistic tropes that spill over into policy making. Media Justice believes there is a pathway to shaping the material conditions of people of color only when communities tell their own stories, with depth and nuance, and tech companies are held accountable for the disinformation they amplify. We have experienced, in the acti

If you are despairing about the rise of racial hatred and the anti-democratic direction this country is embracing, consider what it takes to build a more just future. For marginalized communities, nonprofit organizations are essential to becoming visible, attaining legal rights, and exercising electoral clout. Asian Americans Advancing Justice Southern California exemplifies how organizational expertise, vision, and infrastructure make systemic change achievable. Led brilliantly by Connie Chung Joe, AAAJ SoCal was founded by civil rights titan Stewart Kwoh following the 1983 murder of Chinese American autoworker Vincent Chin by aggrieved white co-workers. Since then, it has evolved into the nation’s largest legal aid and civil rights organization serving Asian Americans. A conversation with Connie Chung Joe is a masterclass in how to implement a multi-layered strategy. The agenda includes direct services to community members facing eviction, bystander intervention training in response to rising hate crimes, a

Since its founding in 1966, the National Organization for Women has been on the frontlines of dismantling both sexism and racism. Its founders, including Betty Friedan, Shirley Chisolm and Pauli Murray saw these systems of oppression as inextricably linked, fortified by policies enacted to marginalize women, particularly Black women, and other people of color. NOW’s president, the immensely talented Christian Nunes is leading in another tumultuous time in America. And she is taking an intersectional, rather than a siloed approach, to meeting historical threats to bodily autonomy, mental health, and economic independence. Intersectionality, a term coined by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw, describes a framework for understanding how overlapping forms of oppression codify injustice. NOW’s organizational structure includes its 501c3, a 501c4, a political action committee and hundreds of grassroots chapters in 35 states. All are at the heart of fortifying the rights of women and girls to reproductive and LGBTQ ri

We are reminded daily, in every scroll through social media, disputed election, tense family function and divisive school board meeting that America is a fractured nation. The polarization is so extreme that increasing numbers of our public leaders no longer identify democracy as a core value. In this episode of Power Station, we learn how the humanities (the arts, history, and philosophy) can be instrumental in creating a safe space for challenging conversations. Adam Davis, executive director of Oregon Humanities, describes what happens when people come together with a common purpose, leaving titles, biases, and egos behind. Oregon Humanities, one of 56 councils launched in 1971 by the National Endowment for the Humanities, uses poems, visuals, and stories to prompt non-combative dialogue. They train nonprofit leaders how to facilitate discussions that build bonds among people with disparate views and lived experience. Oregon Humanities is generating measurable impacts, most importantly a sense of agency am

Why are farmworkers, who provide our food security system, so marginalized by the nation they feed? They work in conditions that are unlawful in other sectors and have skills that American born workers lack. On this episode of Power Station, we hear from two guests who know that farmworker parents want more for their children. This aspiration is made possible by scores of migrant Head Start centers serving the educational, safety and emotional needs of farmworker children from 3 months to 5 years old. Cleofas Rodriguez, a son of immigrants who worked in cotton fields, leads the National Migrant and Seasonal Head Start Association, and created its unparalleled internship program. He advocates for these centers to be fully funded, for passage of the Farm Workforce Modernization Act and is a passionate champion of farmworker children. His belief in them is validated by, among others, Jose Castellano, the son of a single farmworker mom who struggled until a Head Start center changed their lives. Jose now attends

Launched as part of President Lyndon Johnson’s 1964 War on Poverty, Head Start provides low-income children, from 3 months to 5 years old, with the educational and emotional preparation required to thrive in kindergarten and beyond. This includes the children of farmworkers who face significant hurdles to attending school at all. Head Start centers serve 14,000 migrant and seasonal children in 24 states, educating the children of farmworkers who travel from state to state to cultivate the crops that grace our tables. In this episode of Power Station, we speak to Alma Hernandez and Gisela Gaspar, children of farmworkers who have graduated from Head Start to college and now, internships with the National Migrant and Seasonal Head Start Association. Children in agriculture are the least protected compared to other sectors and Alma and Gisela have first-hand experience with exposure to pesticides, worsening conditions due to climate change and low wages for grueling and skilled work. They are an inspiration to th

Once you experience Eric Ward, a shift in your thinking and your soul is inevitable. An expert on authoritarian movements with deep roots in the United States, Eric argues that we have the power to counter them by building the most inclusive multi-racial democracy possible. As executive director of Western States Center he is pragmatic, providing training and tools for parents whose children are targeted by hate groups, preparing community organizations to operate in hostile environments and standing with local governments on the front lines of defending democracy. And he is visionary, convening culture-shifting artists and supporting legislators in working across the partisan divide to expel colleagues who participate in hate crimes. On this episode of Power Station, Eric explains how antisemitism became the driving conspiratorial narrative for white supremacist groups. This narrative is used to undercut the transformative achievements of the civil rights movement, which defeated a system of white supremacy,

Domestic violence is a universally horrific experience, but the path to surviving it is considerably harder for women who are immigrants and refugees. In Washington DC, a hub for African immigrants, the violence may start at home but because many victims are undocumented, the police and court systems are often unsympathetic and become abusers as well. Few social service providers speak their language or have a cultural connection. And when the abuser is the person who brought them to this country, is the father of their children and has documented status, the power differential is overwhelming. These circumstances led Amelia Missieledies, an Ethiopian social worker, to launch the Person Center in 2013. Her sheer fortitude produced a new level of awareness about trauma-informed care and the potential of women to become their own best advocates. After her passing, Lul Mohamud, Amelia’s mentee, signed on to lead the organization. She is the daughter of Somali immigrants, is trained in restorative justice and is

It is shocking that hunger is an everyday reality for 38 million Americans and 800 million people globally. The Alliance to End Hunger is the national nonprofit that convenes diverse sectors, from universities to health insurers, corporations and faith-based nonprofits to craft and advocate policy solutions. And with Eric Mitchell at the helm, members grapple with hunger’s root causes: Covid, climate, conflict, exacerbated by systemic racism. Members advocate on Capitol Hill for expanded Emergency Food Assistance, made necessary by the pandemic, and for the modernization of SNAP and WIC. It is pushing for passage of the Farm Bill, whose sweeping components include improvements to conservation, nutrition assistance, and agricultural subsidies. The Alliance operates similarly on the global stage, partnering with United Nations agencies and farmers to generate the resources needed to withstand man-made disasters, from war to climate shocks, including floods and draught. Eric looks forward to September 2022, when

Ours is a nation obsessed with food. We expect crops to be grown free from pesticides, follow reality cooking shows, and demand access to great restaurants and bountiful produce in supermarkets, even during a global pandemic. But what connection do we feel to the men, women and, sadly, children whose labor makes it possible for fresh food to grace our tables? Ron Estrada, the former head of government relations at Univision and the new CEO of Farmworker Justice is committed to strengthening and leveraging that connection. It starts with elevating the stories of the 2.4 million farmworkers in the US, the majority of whom are immigrants and lack authorized work status. They often live in housing without running water or electricity and although they are skilled and work long hours, live in poverty. Increasingly they work for contractors and their pay is based on bushels and acreage. Last year, the Farm Worker Modernization Act passed the House and is before the Senate now. The political hurdle is that the bill

Are you surprised to know that 70% of all Native American people in the United States live off-reservation and in urban settings? The reason why can be traced directly back to the Indian Relocation Act of 1956, crafted by Congress to press Native Americans to leave reservation life for the false promise of housing, jobs, health care and education across the country. The US government failed to honor the treaties they signed and used this forced migration to dilute the power of tribes and promote assimilation. Over the years, Native leaders stepped up to help their communities survive and thrive. Now more than 300 native-led nonprofits advocate for families in need of housing, health care and other essential services. Janeen Comenote, an enrolled member of the Quinault Native tribe, launched the National Urban Indian Family Coalition to strengthen their collective power in policymaking and civic engagement. They are educating policy makers about their native constituencies and involving community members in ce

Can a nonprofit achieve transformative policy change in these politically volatile times? It may feel impossible but the answer, as demonstrated by the Greenlining Institute, is a resounding yes. It was founded in 1993 to tackle the wealth-stripping impacts of redlining, the deliberate practice of discrimination and disinvestment by banks, insurance companies and government agencies against communities of color. Sectors that mapped out which communities to exclude from the possibility of owning a home or starting a business, based on race and ethnicity, are now at the table with Greenlining, hearing directly from impacted community members. The Greenlining Institute is reimagining California, and our nation, as a place of shared opportunity and power. Its staff of data experts and advocates are laser focused on making the economic, energy, environmental and technology sectors more just. But their direction comes from a coalition of community-based groups, from faith leaders to housing and childcare providers