The Social Capital of Recovery

We’ve heard a lot about the resiliency of Vermont communities. Alongside that discussion, we should make sure we also talk about the power of democracy and participation. Together with financial capital and physical capital, social capital is a key element in moving forward.

A couple of weeks ago, the towns of Waterbury and Wilmington showed some incredible social capital as they presented plans for the rebuilding process each town will be going through in the coming years. I had the opportunity to join the discussion in Waterbury, where residents and town leaders shared their project goals.  Their visions are big and inspiring—from a new town hall to better affordable housing, improved recreation fields, a new center on Resilient Technology and more. Likewise, in Wilmington—where other foundation colleagues joined the discussion—the plans range from trail enhancements to an expanded health care facility, a new business center, a new emergency response team and more.

The two towns were selected by FEMA Long-Term Community Recovery for a special community planning project, wherein residents would spend months putting their heads together and developing a vision for the future—in economic development, energy use, housing and human services, parks and recreation, and community capacity. 

Big plans. Big ideas. And money is needed. But the real hope lies in the tremendous democratic participation that got the plans to this point. Community voices rising, community leaders being born, and civil society showing the way, we can all be hopeful. There’s much to be done, but the energy and planning brings progress every day. 

And one more thing. Check out the video from Heritage Automotive about the Waterbury response. I guarantee you won’t finish it with dry eyes.

Remembering Del Barrows

The following guest post was written by the Community Foundation’s Senior Philanthropic Advisor Scott McArdle

One of the great pleasures, and I must say, privileges, of this job is the number of generous, creative, passionate, and interesting people with whom I get to work. One of those people left us this past week. Delmer “Del” Barrows of Vermont’s Johnson Woolen Mills fame passed away on Sunday morning after a long and difficult battle with Parkinson’s disease.  

Del, his wife Linda, and sister Vickie joined the Vermont Community Foundation family back in 1998 when the Woolen Mills was about to be sold. The family used that opportunity to continue a long tradition of community giving by establishing two charitable funds at the Community Foundation. I recall that Del was one of the very first fundholders I met during my first month on the job in 2001. Then-CEO David Rahr had “assigned” me to Del and the family, explaining “You’ll know why when you meet him.”

Some time later, as Dave and I walked into the small office that Del and Vickie kept in Morrisville - I must admit to being a tad nervous - Del greeted me with an abrupt “Who are you?” Before I could stammer out an answer he launched into a joke (not repeatable in this blog) and quickly followed with a firm handshake and a battery of earnest questions about my background. His direct style, wit, deadpan sense of humor, and commitment to quietly giving back to community, never wanting to take credit, are some of the things I will remember most about him.

Just two weeks ago, I was lucky enough to be invited to join Del and his family at a reception in their honor to announce their generous $1 million gift to Copley Hospital in Morrisville to renovate the emergency department. In the days leading up to the event it was doubtful that Del would attend, due both to his declining health and his preference for anonymity in his giving. He did attend, however, and got to see and be thanked by many of his old friends and neighbors, some of whom he had not seen in years.

As the formal announcement was made of the gift and the architect’s plans were unveiled, the small crowd applauded loudly. Del at first seemed startled, then looked up at Linda from his wheelchair with a slight smile and an expression of wonder in his eyes as he took in the applause. With much effort, he then slowly brought his hands together to join in.

Bravo, Del. That applause was for you, and I’m glad you got to hear it before you left.

Philanthropy and Government: The Start of a New Relationship

Blog updated March 29, 2012

This week I joined a few hundred foundation colleagues for the annual Foundations On The Hill conference. It’s a chance for foundation staff to meet with each other, and more importantly, to meet with elected officials and discuss issues of common interest.

One of the themes that emerged during my conversations with colleagues was the evolving relationship between philanthropy and government. When I first started working in the philanthropy world some 15 years ago, the common position was that foundations should never fund something that was a government responsibility. That stance came in part from the recognition that there is not enough money in philanthropy to take over government responsibility. While it has long been true that the philanthropic world has worked closely with government agencies, it’s frequently a challenging partnership.

So I was especially intrigued to hear people describing work that continues to blur the demarcation between the two entities.

The change was clearly evident in three presentations, one from the NEA’s Chair Rocco Landesman, another from Deputy Secretary of Labor Seth Harris, and a third from Suzanne Immerman, Director of Strategic Partnerships at the Department of Education.

Immerman described the question that Secretary Arnie Duncan put to his staff shortly after taking the job: “Who is responsible for our relationship with foundations?” Nobody, it turned out. That was to change. Now the department spends considerable time finding partnerships.

Broadway producer Landesman said that in his work around strengthening support for the arts, private philanthropy is one of the most important pieces of the work. (And the largest source of funding.)

Harris explained that most folks in government simply don’t understand philanthropy, but understand that they need to, and clearly want to.

And we’re seeing many interesting partnerships across the country. The New Jersey Association of Foundations has hired foundation relations officers to be placed in city hall. Foundations are paying for grantwriters to help their local government offices understand and obtain grants. Foundations are also paying for research into best practices around various issues, and providing that research to government officials.

You can also find similar thinking in the private for-profit world. In the November issue of the Harvard Business Review, Rosabeth Moss Kanter—describing “How Great Companies Think Differently,” says this: 

The need to cross borders and sectors to tap new business opportunities must be accompanied by concern for public issues beyond the boundaries of the firm, requiring the formation of public-private partnerships in which executives consider societal interests along with their business interests

The Community Foundation’s work with the Vermont Department of Agriculture to support farmers is a local example of a similar philosophy. So is the Foundation’s partnership with the Department of Commerce and the Lieutenant Governor, to help clean up damaged mobile homes after the flood. The Tarrant Foundation’s work with school districts in South Burlington and Winooski also shows that kind of partnership.

And so the lines that distinguish us are being erased—or at the very least lightened. This linking of arms between philanthropy and government is worth our attention, both on its own terms and because the condition of local, national, and global economies dictates that we must find new ways of working together.

But there’s also a caveat. While we may rush to find new partnerships, this new work will require the sustained interest and commitment of both sides as they muddle through the intricacies of partnership—especially on the federal level. In all three of the presentations I mentioned above, the speakers were quick to point out that their efforts to work with philanthropy would continue as long as they are in office—1 year, 5 years?  But they made no guarantees as to what might happen when positions shift. And while the appetite for collaboration between government and philanthropy is undoubtedly a fragile thing, I can’t help but think that it also might offer at least one point of agreement in an atmosphere of increasing partisanship.

In praise of town meeting: a blog post about the internet

Occasionally I’ll read a book that really shakes me up. Eli Pariser’s new book The Filter Bubble is one of those. In it, Pariser describes the increasing use of our internet search history to personalize our internet experiences. Most of the largest web companies—Google, Facebook, Twitter—develop algorithms to ensure we get the information that we are most likely to want (according to the algorithms).

On one hand, this is something we all know. If I search for running shoes, it’s kind of neat that I get ads for running shoes. On the other hand, I find the implications disturbing because the algorithms don’t just apply to things we might buy. They apply to everything—politics, social issues, religion, etc.  And if we only receive information with which we already agree, we will only move deeper into the political divisions that so often serve as road blocks for solving problems. In my work, I cannot survive on one set of ideas alone. When I only get information that confirms what I already believe, I cannot learn new things; I cannot be surprised; I cannot find new solutions.

Let me be clear. The internet remains a tremendous tool for building community. Whether we’re using Kickstarter, or Front Porch Forum, or Facebook or Twitter, or scores of other tools and networks, the internet explosion is a force for much that is good. But this particular trend—building the internet targeted solely for “me”—is one that has disturbing implications. 

And this is why the coming week in Vermont is so important—town meeting week. It’s a time when Vermonters of all stripes can get together and talk about—well, everything. Should we buy a new ambulance? Should the school hire a new teacher? Is the road crew doing a good job? Should our school district merge with another? And in some towns this year, should we object to the Supreme Court’s decision in Citizens United, about corporations and political contributions? 

UVM Professor Frank Bryan, in his excellent book about Vermont town meeting entitled Real Democracy, talks of the “satisfaction, frustration, irritation, anxiety and hope that real democracy brings.” And indeed, town meeting is one place where we learn to be with our neighbors and talk about our different views. It’s a place where we build the kind of connections that allowed Vermonters to respond so well—and quickly—to the deluge of Irene. It’s not always dramatic, but it’s sometimes messy. And it is where we can build community that transcends our politics, religion, and class. 

Enjoy town meeting, everybody.

“Don’t worry about me – the guy over there is much worse off…”

We talk a lot about the character of Vermont. That character includes parts of the stereotypical flinty and taciturn New Englander. And yet, there’s something much warmer. It’s the compassion for neighbors, and the sense of responsibility for our communities. It goes like this…

In the process of awarding grants from the Vermont Farm Disaster Relief Fund, the grants committee has done a lot of outreach to let farmers know about the grants and how they can apply. Not all farmers do apply, of course. Some had little or no damage, others are too small (under $20,000 in annual receipts) to qualify. But most interesting are those farmers to whom we’ve spoken – who likely would have qualified for grants – who’ve told us that there are others in greater need. “Yea, I’ve got damage, but Fred down the road has much greater need than I do – he should get the money.” 

In a world where it can be easy to believe that people will serve their interests first, what we’ve seen with the farm grants is not a “me first” approach; rather, it’s been a “community first” approach.

Now, as it turns out, some of those farmers who didn’t seek help before are now finding that their problems are bigger than they originally thought, that their feed was ruined after all. And after some deliberation and encouragement, they have come back to the fund to apply for support. But the truly heartening part remains … that these farmers understand and live the spirit of community even when their own needs are pressing.

I won’t claim that Vermonters are the only ones who understand community; but there’s no question that this shared understanding makes it easier for all of us to address the needs of the community, and will well position this state to address future challenges in a creative and compassionate way.