By Richard Woo
CEO
The Russell Family Foundation

“A sustainable and peaceful world for people, places and communities.” That’s the vision of The Russell Family Foundation. We’re driving toward this goal, with three principles: 1) taking a place-based approach; 2) embracing difference; and 3) being a learning organization.

An example of the interplay among these principles is the Foundation’s newly-launched Puyallup Watershed Initiative, a ten-year funding and civic engagement project to help steward the waters that run from Mt. Rainier to the Puget Sound in Washington State. The Puyallup Watershed—which takes its name from the Puyallup Tribe of Indians, who have lived along the shores of Puget Sound for thousands of years—is a meandering landscape of bio, geo, and social diversity. It covers roughly 1,000 square miles; includes more than a dozen governing jurisdictions; is home to the Puyallup Tribal government; supports rural, urban and suburban economies; and is host to communities that are growing more diverse by race, ethnicity, class and other social measures. Local county officials describe the watershed as a place with “nearly every land use imaginable.”

For the Foundation to have a meaningful impact in this area, we need to take equity into consideration. We must ensure that our grantmaking benefits the broad range of stakeholders connected to watershed because their involvement is critical to success. To set ourselves up to be equitable in the end, we have begun by being inclusive of those diverse stakeholders so they can inform our grantmaking decisions.

When the Foundation’s program team convened the first meeting of a community advisory group, the guest list reflected different and emerging local voices—not simply those historically tied to the watershed as an environmental platform. The list included farmers, business people, tribal leaders, sport fishers, scientists, educators, young urban artists, youth philanthropists, government officials, farmworkers union activists, and environmentalists. There was no one dominant group—much like the coming future of America.

One guest, a prominent water scientist who happens to be Caucasian, later told us how surprised he was not to know the majority of the people in the room as he’d been working on the issue for years. Since that convening, he’s been wondering how to make the work of his organization more meaningful to the new people he had met.

Another guest expressed initial skepticism about being invited to an “environmental watershed” meeting because he didn’t see a connection between the issue and the his work on a youth philanthropy board, comprised of mostly young people of color. But by the end of the first meeting, his eyes were opened. He said, “the youth I serve care about health, so if this effort is about the environment and its impact on community health, then this is important to our work.”

These anecdotes represent small steps toward embracing difference and building stronger ties so that ultimately the community’s collective voice helps direct the Foundation’s resources toward a Puyallup Watershed that is environmentally healthy, economically vibrant, and socially equitable.

By Sindhu Knotz
Associate Partner, The Giving Practice
Philanthropy Northwest

At Philanthropy Northwest, we recognize that there are many philanthropic leaders committed to building more diverse and inclusive organizations in our region. Yet taking meaningful action to address diversity, equity and inclusion can be challenging work, even for those foundations that have been in the lead for many years.

This is why The Giving Practice, the consulting arm of Philanthropy Northwest, has partnered with the D5 Coalition on a research project to explore how foundations in the Northwest are addressing diversity, equity, and inclusion, and adapting to changing demographics. The D5 Coalition is a five-year, collaborative effort created to encourage and support philanthropists to build a more diverse and inclusive philanthropic sector.

Our research project is designed as a two-part study that includes a peer learning network, as well as a series of interviews with foundation leaders across our region. We’re interested in understanding how organizational culture and leadership practices can promote action towards greater diversity, equity, and inclusion- and to identify any common barriers along the way. Our interviews will begin this spring, and our goal is to have a report to share with our membership and the broader field by the end of this year.

Foundation leaders and staff involved in this work have started to share interesting articles and resources with us. For example, Doug Stamm of the Meyer Memorial Trust recently shared More Than Words by George Penick, a report detailing one leader’s journey with his board and staff to create a more equitable and inclusive foundation. Richard Woo of The Russell Family Foundation shared a diversity-related blog post written following a site visit in rural Colorado. We encourage you to read these resources to get a better sense of the challenges faced by leaders today, and some of the approaches being utilized to increase diversity.

Stay tuned to the Philanthropy Northwest blog for updates on this project, and to be the first to hear about the report when it is released later in the year.

By Chris Rurik
Historian/Storyteller
The Russell Family Foundation

I recently attended two gatherings – the Confluence Philanthropy annual conference and the Council on Foundations 2013 Family Philanthropy Conference – where an emergent next generation of philanthropists seemed to be on everyone’s minds. As a member of this loosely defined phalanx of change-bringers, this intrigued me. Is the older generation of family-based philanthropists excited? Are they nervous? Do they understand us? Do they want us? I heard no clear answer to any of these questions.

A byproduct of the next generation’s maturation and education is a conceptual return to the fundamentals of change making. While becoming integrated into our foundation’s way of work, I had to start with the basics – the mechanics of philanthropy. How does a grant work? What’s happening with our investments? These questions quickly led me to a deeper, more personal vein. Why are we making grants? Why do we have a foundation? Why has my family evolved like this? Having reached the very foundation (pardon the pun) of my family’s version of philanthropy, and yet to be entrenched in years of practice, I am able to speculate about our foundation’s role in a future that seems up for grabs.

For a generation raised to believe that we can do anything, asking why things work the way they do – as if society is a moldable human invention – is completely natural. Necessary. For example, a session at the Confluence conference detailed how the large, dissatisfied, Occupy-influenced segment of my generation envisions a new world economy that allows sustainable, equitable existence for all. A triple bottom line will replace financial-only measurement. Fifty-year impacts will replace quarter-by-quarter analysis. Transparency and radical democracy will be fundamental components. The conversation had a definite radical tinge (questioning even the capitalistic system in which foundations thrive) that exemplifies my generation’s inclination to approach problems at a fundamental level. This kind of thinking is not just youthful idealism. It is the type of orthogonal thinking that drives creative invention.

But in a society and philanthropic sector organized around established ways of thinking and doing, how can this young, creative perspective be integrated? Is integration practical? (I say yes.) Will it topple things? (I say yes, but only the things that deserve toppling.) It seems to me that the crux of the multi-generational integration lies at the intersection of education and consideration. The older generation, as educators and role models, must not come across as know-it-alls, must not answer questions dismissively, and must not assume that their approach is unassailable. The next generation, as pupils and change-makers, must listen first, ask questions second, and offer opinions third. Humility and open ears on both sides are crucial.

It is a dynamic process, integrating the voices of the next generation into philanthropy, with plenty of potential for missteps. What parent hasn’t seen the immaturity of their children? What student hasn’t questioned their parents’ lifestyle? But if a mutual commitment to patience and consideration underlies the process, it will be nothing but healthy as new skepticism and creativity reshape the way things are done.

Next week, in a follow-up to this post, I will discuss how the evolution of family values and priorities, which vary as much within generations as between them, can be cultivated.

By Richard Woo
Board Member, Philanthropy Northwest
CEO, The Russell Family Foundation

At my house in the Pacific Northwest, winter gardening amounts to gathering up the brittle fallen leaves that lingered on branches longer than expected and missed being raked up into autumn piles. I’d spent the late fall procrastinating over the task of raking leaves lodged among the bumpy stones of our rock garden. Once the seasonal rains arrived, the soggy leaves stuck to the stones like stubborn abalones. Neither rake nor leaf blower could dislodge them from their rocky crevices. This coincidence of nature only served to embolden my procrastination: “It’s impossible, I cannot get those leaves out!”

However, on the dawn of a new year, my wife’s insistence overcame my resistance and so it was I spent the frigid morning on hands and knees. By this time, the once soggy leaves had frozen hard with the overnight frost and now adhered even more permanently leaf to stone. What to do? After muttering my mantra several times: “It’s impossible, I cannot get those leaves out!” it slowly dawned on me that the task was not insurmountable, but simply inconvenient, harder than expected, and requiring more effort than I was willing to commit. That’s when I kneeled down and began prying one by one, each frozen leaf from its rock-bound foothold. The garden did not surrender its leafy ground cover willingly.

Initially, I felt silly doing a task with my naked hands that could have easily been accomplished with a rake or blower…under drier conditions. “Is this any way to start the new year?”—I sighed to myself. After a time I started to drift from a feeling of futility toward the notion that there might be a lesson hidden among these stones. I tried considering this singular task as a Zen-like exercise in simplicity, perseverance, and right effort. Gradually calm settled in and I began noticing more about the immediate experience:  leaf patterns, stone shapes, frost crystals, light and shade. Looking back at my handiwork midway down the path, I realized progress was underway—subtle though it was.

As I continued this moving meditation, my mind wandered to the practice of philanthropy and the relevance of this gardening exercise. When faced with a seemingly overwhelming social, environmental or civic problem, how often have I muttered to myself:  “That’s impossible!” Perhaps, it was not a matter of impossibility but rather the professional procrastination over a task that was inconvenient, harder than expected, and requiring more effort than I was willing to commit. Now of course, there are “big, hairy and audacious problems” in the world—we’re seeing their flashpoints daily from gun violence to climate change and civil wars. And solving these problems cannot be accomplished as simply as winter gardening. But what if foundations, individual philanthropists, and community partners made a greater effort to work together while taking on singular tasks with more simplicity, perseverance, and right effort?  If we took off the (garden) gloves and wrestled the elements with our naked hands, might we see more progress in this new year—subtle though it may be?

By Richard Woo
CEO
The Russell Family Foundation

As part of our Foundation’s increasing focus on place-based strategies, I’m spending more time getting to know the community in which I live and work. Last fall our Foundation made a ten-year commitment to work in the Puyallup River Watershed to strengthen the stewardship of the lands, waters and communities of this special place of the south Puget Sound. In May, Scott Miller of our Foundation’s environmental sustainability program and I attended the Puyallup Tribe’s ceremony of the First Fish of the season.  This special annual ceremony was led by Connie McCloud, the Cultural & Youth Director of the Puyallup Tribe. According to the legends, the Salmon People once walked among the People of the First Nations. In a game of chance, the Salmon People lost and were sent to live in the seas, returning each year up the rivers and streams to provide food for the People of the First Nations.

Honoring the first fish of the season is a way of showing respect for the food; as well as the waters and lands from which it comes. After the first fish is prepared and filleted by a fisherman on cedar boughs and plank, the fish remains and plank are ceremoniously set adrift in the Puyallup River where the currents carry them back towards the sea. The deep resonant voices of the singers, the drums and rattles followed the drifting salmon remains as they disappeared around the river bend. The drums and voices competed with the low roar of traffic along I-5 and the Pacific Highway bridge. The drums, voices, and traditions prevailed.

Following the ceremony, about 100 people gathered in Tacoma at the Portland Avenue Community Center for a feast that included the first fish, other salmon, nettle soup, and Puget Sound shrimp caught fresh that morning. With open hospitality, Connie McCloud invited me to sit at her table which included several elders whom I got to know better over the lunch. I now have a much deeper appreciation for this place called the Puyallup and the people after whom it is named.

By Richard Woo
CEO
The Russell Family Foundation

“I learned that the first story is not always the story to tell.” Judy Chen, Washington State Coalition Against Domestic Violence.
 
Judy’s insightful comment was shared during a storytelling workshop I facilitated for Asian Americans & Pacific Islanders in Philanthropy (AAPIP) the other evening in Seattle. She followed the remark with: “Twenty-minutes ago I had no idea I would tell that story. But that’s what came up for me as I listened to everyone.” The AAPIP session was called “Talk Story: the Power of Stories for Personal, Organizational and Community Development.” 

I’m no storytelling expert—though I’ve heard my share of good tales through the years. And that’s precisely the point. You need not be a master, but paying attention helps immensely. There are stories at the tips of our tongues ready to be released if we listen deeply, get over our self-consciousness, and take the risk of talking out loud. As we do so, we develop our ear, our voice, our skills. 

When we tell a story to people who are also paying attention it may lead to questions, comments, challenges, or engagement. This engagement can potentially change the quality of relationships and in the face of changing relations…anything can happen! That’s when the next story emerges and the next. As a grantmaker, how many times have you eventually funded the second, third or fourth idea that evolved from the original one that arose in conversation with a community organization?

It’s this conversation or engagement that leads people, organizations, even communities to co-create new narratives. Storytelling is a fundamental act of empowerment when people “own their story.” Just as importantly, listening is a great gift to those who are exercising their voices.

If there’s an art to philanthropy, it will be nurtured by the reciprocal acts of listening and telling. That sentiment is summed up by another AAPIP workshop participant:

“The session has motivated me to think deeper about my own stories and our client stories.” Joyce Zhou, Development Director, Asian Counseling & Referral Service.

By Richard Woo
CEO
The Russell Family Foundation

[Part III of III part blog post by Richard Woo, written on February 3, 2012.]

President Carter turned his undivided attention upon everyone in the room and we reciprocated in kind. He moved us with his message of building peace and advocating for human rights. He shared the inspiration and stories of The Carter Center in Atlanta, Georgia that carries the banner: Waging Peace. Fighting Disease. Building Hope.
 
He stunned us with the story of the Guinea Worm Disease and the fact that global eradication is within reach. When The Carter Center began working on the disease in 1986 there were an estimated 3.5 million cases in 21 countries in Africa and Asia. Today there are less than 1,100 cases in four countries and the disease is about to be eradicated.
 
President Carter spoke with quiet purpose about the 89 elections in 36 countries The Carter Center has observed since 1989—raising the prospects for impartiality, transparency, and democracy.
 
He shared insights as fresh and diverse as the media headlines that have arisen this week from the Arab Spring to presidential campaigning and America’s role in the world. As engaging as the President’s remarks were, it was the conversational Q&A session that was most powerful.
 
A young professional who leads a nonprofit museum asked on behalf of her husband, a state legislator, “What advice would you offer someone beginning a career in politics and public service?”
 
To which he replied: “My advice for serving in politics is the same as what it takes to be a good person: 1) tell the truth 2) be humble 3) try each day to help somebody else.”
 
When asked what wish for the new year, he might ask us to carry forward, he commented on the ways in which power, position, and social class conspire to distort our world view. Citing his own experience, he recounted how he came to confront his own misperceptions by building Habitat for Humanity homes around the world and alongside the poor. “I learned that they are just as intelligent, work just as hard, and care just as much about their families and communities as I did.”
 
With that he thanked us, stepped from the stage and proceeded to shake the hand of every person in the room.

By Richard Woo
CEO
The Russell Family Foundation

[Part II of III part blog post by Richard Woo, written on February 3, 2012]

President Carter stood by the small stage while I stepped forward to make his introduction. As a colleague joked earlier in the day, “…you’re the opening act for U2!” 

This was a reception in Gig Harbor, Washington hosted by three enterprises founded by George F. Russell, Jr.—two social ventures and one business. The social enterprises being: the One Nation Project, a philanthropic collaborative promoting pluralism and interfaith dialogue; and The Russell Family Foundation. The Threshold Group, an investment advisory firm, is George’s business venture. Henry Izumizaki, One Nation’s CEO, worked with the Carter Center for over a year to arrange this visit. Though space was limited, the guest list reflected the broad interests of the three host organizations.

 As I addressed the guests, I described my dilemma: to introduce a man who literally needs no introduction. I noted that the prior week I had spoken by phone with my friend and colleague who once worked closely with President Carter. His name is Bob Dunn and he served as the White House Appointment Secretary scheduling and attending all the President’s meetings. After leaving the White House, Bob joined the apparel firm, Levi Strauss & Co. in San Francisco, where he championed social responsibility, corporate philanthropy and community relations. In the late 1980s, Bob hired me as his assistant there.

 While on the phone with Bob, I asked him to describe the President. As Bob spoke, three words arose:

1.    Integrity
2.    Humane
3.    Loving

 While “integrity” is a word commonly associated with the notion of leadership—it is rare to hear the terms “humane” and “loving” to describe a nation’s president. Once President Carter stepped to the stage, it became clear how much truth lay in Bob’s description.

“…Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome President Jimmy Carter, the 39^th President of the United States.”

February 3, 2012

By Richard Woo
Chief Executive Officer
The Russell Family Foundation

On Wednesday evening this week, I found myself in an elevator alone with President Jimmy Carter. I was escorting him to a reception where I was about to introduce him to a gathering of guests.

I’ve often counseled our Foundation’s grantees to prepare the proverbial “elevator speech” if they should ever find themselves with access to someone with whom they wanted to communicate clearly and passionately. My elevator moment had arrived. The President and I were traveling from the second floor to the first—a distance that translated to a mere 20 seconds; shorter than the one minute allocation the “experts” typically assign to an elevator pitch. 

President Carter is the rare individual that gives you the gift of his undivided attention. This is a remarkable quality to encounter in a political or public figure particularly set against the usual backdrop of admiring crowds or herds of reporters. In this case, neither of those distractions was present in the tiny elevator. There was simply him and me—alone together.
 
As the elevator door closed, I turned and said: “I’ve been reading your book, White House Diary, and I appreciate how each entry is a mini time capsule of the times in our country and the world.”
 
Amazon.com describes the White House Diary this way:
 
The edited, annotated diary of President Jimmy Carter—filled with insights into his presidency, his relationships with friends and foes, and his lasting impact on issues that still preoccupy America and the world.
 
The President turned slightly to face me as the elevator gears whirred quietly around us. There was undivided attention between us. With a calm though serious countenance, he replied: “When I reviewed the many pages of my diary, I found errors and mistakes—but I chose not to change anything or polish them for publication, because that’s what really happened.” He smiled slightly as a form of punctuation.
 
As the elevator slowed to a stop, I said: “Thank you for doing that. It’s often our errors and mistakes that have the most to teach us.”
 
He nodded knowingly. The door slid open and the elevator moment ended.

By Henry Izumizaki
CEO, One Nation Foundation
Strategic Advisor, The Russell Family Foundation

[Originally appeared on the RE: Philanthropy blog, September 22, 2011.]

The chief takeaway from the fall conference’s closing talk and panel session is this: The country is in a tough spot now and will continue to be for the next 5 to 10 years, financially and politically.

Government is gridlocked and revenues are ever-diminishing in a time of greater need, but cooperation and cash aren’t the only commodities in limited supply. People lack trust and optimism that things will get better. The “new normal” may not be a shift just in the way the public and private sectors work, but in the way citizens interact and understand each other. This could be for the better… or for the worse.

Community foundations are not on the periphery of the seismic shifts occurring in the economy or in our country’s social and political conversations, as this year’s conference made clear. They are facing not only tighter grantmaking budgets, but shorter tempers in their communities because of the greater polarization the country is experiencing.

Community foundations know, however, that much of the capital they help build is not measured in dollars or dependent on stocks or monetary policy; rather, it’s social capital. It’s the trust, mutual reciprocity, and citizen-led problem-solving that is fundamental to the democratic process and the process of building more cohesive and inclusive communities. Social capital requires its own investment-but it doesn’t always have to be financial.

Instead, the investment can be in the form of leadership and vision. Community foundations can use their unique position as a nexus of public and private resources to convene diverse populations to work together and leverage available resources to tackle local challenges.

The spill-over benefits of convening local leaders-and being the “grease and glue” of community engagement-come in the form of not only increased participation, but also increased collaboration and partnership across differences, be they cultural, religious, or socio-economic. This reduces possible tensions and prejudices that might come from long-standing fears of “the other” or a feeling of competition for more scarce resources.

Community foundations that actively set a common table for diverse populations to rally around strengthen the ability of their communities to tap assets and resources that are many times lost in less lean times, when it’s not always a necessity to think outside of community and issue silos. The One Nation Foundation has had the incredible opportunity to partner with community foundations in the San Francisco Bay Area, Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, Chicago, New York, and St. Paul seeking to do just that.

The assets in our communities are too great to be wasted. In fact, we must ensure they appreciate in value and significance so we can effectively build bridges and ensure that local communities are not swept into the mix of uncertainty but become bulwarks of cooperation.