Galina Angarova is a representative of the Ekhirit Nation of the Buryat People in Siberia, an Indigenous rights activist and the Executive Director of Cultural Survival. This article is the first in the larger series about ways of incorporating Indigenous values and principles in philanthropy
Sain Bainaa, Hundete Nuheduut/ Greetings dear friends. My name is Galina Angarova and I come from the Ekhirit Nation of the Buryat Peoples in Siberia. I was born and raised in a traditional community where storytelling, ceremonies, communicating with the land and our ancestors was part of our daily lives. Before my work in philanthropy and fundraising, I was an on-the-ground organizer who relied on philanthropy to resource the work. As an Indigenous woman, I also recognize and have the lived experience of understanding the shortfalls of philanthropy and hold solutions that can help this field be more accessible, equitable, and supportive of a regenerative, sustainable future for all.
One of the barriers of working in philanthropy as an Indigenous woman is the dichotomy of being Indigenous and being in an exclusive and privileged field. As Indigenous Peoples living and working in and out of our cultures and the mainstream society, we have become highly adaptive while staying deeply empathetic and opening our hearts to the struggles on the ground. I want to stress that first and foremost, no matter the circumstance, you are accountable to your own people, to the Indigenous movement; your employer, foundation, or non-profit comes second. There is also the mental and spiritual struggle for Indigenous peers being the gatekeepers of the resources of a foundation they work for. Traditionally, in Indigenous cultures, our resources are available to us freely, but our teachings illustrate that we must practice responsibility in how much we take, as well as reciprocity, so that we are also giving back to the life-source that nourishes us. If one finds themselves in a position as a gatekeeper of resources in a foundation, it’s necessary to think about the strategies and remedies one can use to minimize the power imbalance.
While it is a struggle to be an Indigenous woman in philanthropy, the struggle continues on the other side as a fundraiser. Very few Indigenous fundraisers exist in the field, and I personally know just a handful of truly effective ones—that’s not nearly enough to push the needle and secure the resources required to support our communities. The numbers speak for themselves: less than half of one percent of foundation dollars goes directly to Indigenous Peoples. The problem is nuanced and rooted in hundred years of colonialism, intergenerational trauma, our sense of self-worth, and of course philanthropy itself, which was birthed by colonial structures. The abundance of financial wealth that exists in this world has direct historical roots to extractive land grabbing and its dispossession from Indigenous Peoples and the exploited free labor of Black slaves.
As I shifted to the other side of mainstream philanthropy as the Executive Director of Cultural Survival, I saw that very few foundations support the organization and this work at large with truly unrestricted general support grants, and even fewer that prioritize long-term support with multi-year grants. Foundations expect incredible, sustaining, mountain-moving impact, yet few are willing to match the resources with that demand. Change is slow and it takes several generations to implement. It is impossible to achieve any substantive change within a single project life cycle and the philanthropic community needs to support partners long-term for true change to happen. Unfortunately, the reality today is that we collectively live in the scarcity and competition mindset—and the kind of giving that exists now perpetuates that mindset. It creates tension, unnecessary stress for staff, and organizations become revolving doors for development professionals. Multi-year general support grants are essential in the process of shifting from the scarcity to the abundance mindset.
So, how can a foundation or donor decolonize their grant-making? Philanthropy should promote inclusive and Indigenous-centric values in theory (strategic plan) and practice. Some of the tension that exists between donors and grantees stems yet again from colonial approaches to giving and accepting gifts. Giving and taking in Indigenous cultures are rooted in relationships, and value is not measured in dollar amounts. Our relationships are not transactional but deeply embedded in our values, relationship building, kinship, and ultimately radical love. Money is just one manifestation of energy; others are the expression of solidarity, support, heartfelt advice, connecting people, sharing and exchanging resources, participation in strategy building, and celebration. Reciprocity, giving, sharing, and generosity have always been part of our cultures. My single mother raising two children would not have survived if we did not rely on our relatives who shared their wild strawberries, mushrooms, meat, wild garlic, and milk that kept us strong and healthy. For me, an act of giving is actually an act of reciprocity, because when one gives, one also gets so much in return.
Furthermore, deep listening and authentic trust-building need to be integrated in principles of philanthropic and fundraising work. In many Indigenous cultures, listening is an act of kindness and compassion. Elders believe that listening, acknowledging, and validating someone provides a person comfort and healing. Some important questions to ask yourself before stepping into a space where resources are being discussed and allocated include:
Sain Bainaa, Hundete Nuheduut/ Greetings dear friends. My name is Galina Angarova and I come from the Ekhirit Nation of the Buryat Peoples in Siberia. I was born and raised in a traditional community where storytelling, ceremonies, communicating with the land and our ancestors was part of our daily lives. Before my work in philanthropy and fundraising, I was an on-the-ground organizer who relied on philanthropy to resource the work. As an Indigenous woman, I also recognize and have the lived experience of understanding the shortfalls of philanthropy and hold solutions that can help this field be more accessible, equitable, and supportive of a regenerative, sustainable future for all.
One of the barriers of working in philanthropy as an Indigenous woman is the dichotomy of being Indigenous and being in an exclusive and privileged field. As Indigenous Peoples living and working in and out of our cultures and the mainstream society, we have become highly adaptive while staying deeply empathetic and opening our hearts to the struggles on the ground. I want to stress that first and foremost, no matter the circumstance, you are accountable to your own people, to the Indigenous movement; your employer, foundation, or non-profit comes second. There is also the mental and spiritual struggle for Indigenous peers being the gatekeepers of the resources of a foundation they work for. Traditionally, in Indigenous cultures, our resources are available to us freely, but our teachings illustrate that we must practice responsibility in how much we take, as well as reciprocity, so that we are also giving back to the life-source that nourishes us. If one finds themselves in a position as a gatekeeper of resources in a foundation, it’s necessary to think about the strategies and remedies one can use to minimize the power imbalance.
While it is a struggle to be an Indigenous woman in philanthropy, the struggle continues on the other side as a fundraiser. Very few Indigenous fundraisers exist in the field, and I personally know just a handful of truly effective ones—that’s not nearly enough to push the needle and secure the resources required to support our communities. The numbers speak for themselves: less than half of one percent of foundation dollars goes directly to Indigenous Peoples. The problem is nuanced and rooted in hundred years of colonialism, intergenerational trauma, our sense of self-worth, and of course philanthropy itself, which was birthed by colonial structures. The abundance of financial wealth that exists in this world has direct historical roots to extractive land grabbing and its dispossession from Indigenous Peoples and the exploited free labor of Black slaves.
As I shifted to the other side of mainstream philanthropy as the Executive Director of Cultural Survival, I saw that very few foundations support the organization and this work at large with truly unrestricted general support grants, and even fewer that prioritize long-term support with multi-year grants. Foundations expect incredible, sustaining, mountain-moving impact, yet few are willing to match the resources with that demand. Change is slow and it takes several generations to implement. It is impossible to achieve any substantive change within a single project life cycle and the philanthropic community needs to support partners long-term for true change to happen. Unfortunately, the reality today is that we collectively live in the scarcity and competition mindset—and the kind of giving that exists now perpetuates that mindset. It creates tension, unnecessary stress for staff, and organizations become revolving doors for development professionals. Multi-year general support grants are essential in the process of shifting from the scarcity to the abundance mindset.
So, how can a foundation or donor decolonize their grant-making? Philanthropy should promote inclusive and Indigenous-centric values in theory (strategic plan) and practice. Some of the tension that exists between donors and grantees stems yet again from colonial approaches to giving and accepting gifts. Giving and taking in Indigenous cultures are rooted in relationships, and value is not measured in dollar amounts. Our relationships are not transactional but deeply embedded in our values, relationship building, kinship, and ultimately radical love. Money is just one manifestation of energy; others are the expression of solidarity, support, heartfelt advice, connecting people, sharing and exchanging resources, participation in strategy building, and celebration. Reciprocity, giving, sharing, and generosity have always been part of our cultures. My single mother raising two children would not have survived if we did not rely on our relatives who shared their wild strawberries, mushrooms, meat, wild garlic, and milk that kept us strong and healthy. For me, an act of giving is actually an act of reciprocity, because when one gives, one also gets so much in return.
Furthermore, deep listening and authentic trust-building need to be integrated in principles of philanthropic and fundraising work. In many Indigenous cultures, listening is an act of kindness and compassion. Elders believe that listening, acknowledging, and validating someone provides a person comfort and healing. Some important questions to ask yourself before stepping into a space where resources are being discussed and allocated include:
- How do you “show up” to your meetings with colleagues, partner organizations, potential applicants and grantees?
- What non-verbal cues are you communicating?
- What do you do to minimize the power imbalance between you and your grantees?
- Are you communicating abundance or scarcity?
- In what ways is your organization upholding colonial, extractive, and exploitative practices?
Photo by Dave Hoefler