Introduction from Marcus Littles
Only four tenths of a percent of foundation grantmaking goes to
Native Americans. In our cover story, Paul Bachleitner reports on some
of the misconceptions about Natives and Native males and explores how
funders can gain a better understanding. This issue also presents
coverage of a
national workshop for junior professors studying African American males
and an essay by Brian Baughan on the forthcoming report:
“That's What We Thought a Man Was: Real Stories of Young Men of Color
in the American South.”
The e-newsletter will
take a holiday hiatus for January’s edition, but it will return in the
first week of February with the announcement of an exciting change for
the Marginalized Males Funders Group. Stay tuned.
Marcus J. Littles
Chief Executive
Frontline Solutions
Why Philanthropy Should Work Harder to
Understand Native Males
By Paul Bachleitner
A population often missing from discussions about marginalized males is Native Americans. Whether you refer to Native communities as indigenous, American Indian, or “Indian Country,” philanthropy’s investment in them could hardly be smaller.
Native communities
receive only four tenths of one percent of foundation grantmaking, according
to
the
Foundation Center’s Statistical Information Service. That
figure is about half of their proportionate share by population size,
given recent US
census
estimates that eight tenths of a percent of the total
population is Native. But the need for support is beyond proportion.
High-profile coverage of gambling profits from casinos on Native land leads to distorted perceptions of prosperity. As detailed by the Native American Rights Fund’s publication “Dispelling the Myths About Indian Gaming," the majority of tribes do not have casinos.
Only a third of tribes with casinos are earning 90 percent of all gambling revenue, as reported by Mike Roberts, president of the First Nations Development Institute, in his essay, “225 Birch Bark Canoes Try in Vain to Raise the Titanic." The few casinos earning large profits share wealth with members of their own tribe and through generous grantmaking share it with members of other tribes. However, the profits aren’t nearly large enough to meet the needs of all Natives.
“If you split Indian gaming revenue amongst all Indians,” Roberts
said during a recent interview, “you’d see that Indians wouldn’t even
have half of the US median income.” In fact, gambling revenue would
only amount to $2,507 per capita per year, his essay reports. Adding
this to revenue from all other sources would still leave Natives more
than $10,000 per capita per year short of the US median income.
Another misperception is about race. Natives don’t consider
themselves to be racial minorities, although they are collaborators and
teammates of racial minorities. Natives are members of discrete
political and cultural entities.
“Philanthropy doesn’t understand this,” Roberts said. “Indians retained their sovereign political rights because of treaties and relations with the US government.”
Acknowledging tribal sovereignty is an important distinction. Chris
Peters, president and CEO of the Seventh Generation Fund,
said
that
federal government policy has sought to acculturate Natives
into non-Native society instead of building their capacity for
self-sufficiency as tribes and nations.
“We need support that helps us develop sustainable communities,”
Peters said. “We need a paradigm shift that sees funding and power stay
in tribal hands.”
This paradigm shift should also include a further distinction about
gender roles. Although men and women have different roles, Natives view
their roles as interconnected, says Tom Goldtooth, executive director
of the 
Indigenous Environmental
Network. Programming doesn’t usually target males or females.
In fact, Roberts, Peters, and Goldtooth said they’re unaware of programming that focuses on Native male issues. They said support is embarrassingly low for all varieties of needs.
Yet, Native men experience many of the same challenges of men of color: alcoholism, unemployment, and high incarceration rates. In fact, the Bureau of Justice Statistics reports that incarceration rates were up 24% in Native jails from 2004-2007.
However, males can benefit from support indirectly through
programming related to ceremonies and activities, such as spiritual
gatherings, storytelling, and canoe building. This kind of programming
helps ground Native males when challenges
have kept them from fulfilling their roles as providers.
“My uncles and my dad were in the military,” Goldtooth said. “They had
troubles controlling their aggression when they came home. If we didn’t
have the roles of ceremony to balance them and welcome them back into
the community, then they’d have been lost.”
Peters cites programming for the environment as an example of how
building self-sufficiency in Native communities can also benefit Native
males.
For example, whole
ecosystems on the West Coast are being destroyed by the practice of
diverting water from rivers that flow through Native land for use by
big cities.
Restoring natural river flows would improve the environment and
preserve fish, like salmon, which are important to Native ceremonies
involving males and to men’s roles as providers.
Goldtooth observes an even more direct connection: many Native
communities are fighting for their lives in a battle against toxic
chemical polluters. Pollution near Sarnia, Ontario at the Aamjiwnaang
Chippewa
reserve is so bad locals refer to the area as “Chemical
Valley.”
The pollution has skewed birth ratios, and two girls are now born
for
every one boy. Males in the community are quite literally at risk.
Toxicity tests have found as many as 36 different toxic chemicals
within the bodies of individual members.
“The connection between environment and chemical politics are killing
our families,” Goldtooth said. “Tribes are losing language and culture,
the sacredness of mother earth, and the connection between it,
families, and life.”
For Native men—and Native women, too, Goldtooth adds—these issues are
central to their very survival.
How the Field of Black Men and Boys Research
Is Growing
By Paul Bachleitner
For one weekend in late October, you could pinpoint
the intersection of philanthropy and black men and boys (BMB) research
to the shores of Lake Huron in the small town of Oregon, OH, just
outside of Toledo.
Almost fifty of
the top BMB researchers at universities across the nation and at
several international schools converged on the town for a workshop
designed to strengthen the field. Nearly 40 of the scholars were junior
professors, building their body of research along a path towards tenure.
“We wanted to take them out of familiar environments so they could
focus on sharing experiences with each other,” said the conference’s
coordinator, Alford
A.
Young, an associate professor at the University of Michigan. “I
mean, we’re hours away from Detroit, Chicago, or anyplace where outside
distractions might intrude on what we’re doing.”
Three years ago, Young was successful in securing a grant from the
Ford Foundation that helped establish the Scholars’ Network on
Masculinity and the Well-Being of African American Men. It originally
consisted of 12 tenured professors from the humanities and social
sciences who study issues that impact the life outcomes of African
American men and boys.
Young and the other
scholars saw a need to cultivate growth in the field to achieve more
impact.
“The 12 of us are committed to building a bigger network of scholars
who work on black men and boys research,” Young said. “There’s no need
for us to be working out there alone.”
The workshop invited the junior professors to share their experiences
with each other and a group of the original 12 network members,
including Young, Duke University professor Mark
Anthony Neal, and University
of Chicago professor Waldo E. Johnson.
By welcoming the junior professors into its ranks, the network
quadrupled its total number of members. In addition to humanities and
social sciences, many of the junior professors also represent applied
and professional fields, such as urban education, psychiatry, and
social work.
“I’m developing a model for nonresident fathers that looks beyond their
relationship with the labor market,” said Armon
Perry, an assistant professor at the University of Louisville
School of Social Work. “When you talk about families, fathers aren’t
even on the radar right now.”
The research of Perry and other network scholars undergirds much of
philanthropy’s BMB work. At the top of the agenda is finding a way to
shift media and policy attention away from deficits-based discussions
of African American males towards a deeper understanding of culture.
This
requires development of more complex notions of masculinity that
incorporate traditional African American values and welcome feminist
theory and female researchers. The scholars insist that concepts of
black masculinity that rely on comparisons to a monolithic, white-male
culture be rejected.
“My challenge is that I study blacks,” said Lance
McCready, assistant professor at the University of Toronto. “And my
white colleagues ask me, ‘Where’s your white control group?’”
New Report Offers Firsthand Account of
Marginalized Male Experience
By Brian Baughan
The
world of philanthropy abounds with data and statistics, but
research often lacks authentic accounts of everyday people. Funders and
practitioners targeting marginalized males preferring the latter should
relish “That's What We Thought a Man Was: Real Stories of Young Men of
Color in the American South.”
This new report draws readers into the realities of four men in
Southern communities. It uncovers a set of unique insights that no
arrangement of stats and figures could accomplish. The result is a
vivid portrait of men’s lives, the challenges they face, and the ways
their communities struggle and thrive.
Published with support from the Ford Foundation, Atlantic
Philanthropies, Open Society Institute, and the Twenty-First Century
Foundation, the report answers the call of the late historian John Hope
Franklin: “We must go beyond textbooks” and “into the bypaths and
untrodden depths of the wilderness” to better understand our world.
Authors
Marcus Littles and J. Wes Yoder have resisted the conventional academic
approach. Instead, they drop readers onto the streets and into the
shoes of the four men: Albert Sykes, Cliff Barnum, Tony Nguyen, and
Miguel Alcantar, respectively of Jackson, Little Rock, New Orleans, and
Nashville.
The accounts of these men chronicle a cross-section of Southern
community life and the various leadership roles the men play—as
activists, organizers, mentors, and fathers. Each man has a meaningful
relationship with local grassroots organizations. The report highlights
these organizations and the special purposes they serve.
The benefits of the brief but meaningful accounts are many. By learning
about the men, funders can better understand notions of male
identity as well as the real-life policy impacts of unemployment,
violence, economic oppression, the education gap, and anti-immigration
laws. What is more, a clear picture emerges of the very individuals
funders wish to support and 
encourage in the ongoing movement to build
what the report calls “purposeful vision-driven communities.”
“That's What We Thought a Man Was: Real
Stories of Young Men of Color in the American South” can be read here.
New
Resources:
Visit our Resources page for details on these and other reports, articles, and links
- Article from The Detroit News: “Faith
schools
could prove virtuous for black students.” November 3, 2009.
