Decolonizing Wealth is a provocative analysis of the dysfunctional colonial dynamics at play in philanthropy and finance. Award-winning philanthropy executive Edgar Villanueva draws from the traditions from the Native way to prescribe the medicine for restoring balance and healing our divides.
Though it seems counterintuitive, the philanthropic industry has evolved to mirror colonial structures and reproduces hierarchy, ultimately doing more harm than good. After 14 years in philanthropy, Edgar Villanueva has seen past the field's glamorous, altruistic facade, and into its shadows: the old boy networks, the savior complexes, and the internalized oppression among the "house slaves," and those select few people of color who gain access.
All these funders reflect and perpetuate the same underlying dynamics that divide Us from Them and the haves from have-nots. In equal measure, he denounces the reproduction of systems of oppression while also advocating for an orientation towards justice to open the floodgates for a rising tide that lifts all boats. In the third and final section, Villanueva offers radical provocations to funders and outlines his Seven Steps for Healing.
With great compassion--because the Native way is to bring the oppressor into the circle of healing--Villanueva is able to both diagnose the fatal flaws in philanthropy and provide thoughtful solutions to these systemic imbalances. Decolonizing Wealth is a timely and critical book that preaches for mutually assured liberation in which we are all inter-connected.
I was really excited to read this book, but it felt empty to me. I agree 100% with everything he says, but his examples and stories do not really support his theory that philanthropy is modern colonization. I love the new critiques of philanthropy (the winner takes all book is fantastic), but this book is a hodgepodge of stuff--listen to native people, white supremacy is real, it's hard for people of color to work in these organizations, etc. I wanted a more either data-driven or at least theory-driven thesis. Or just any thesis at all and I didn't really see one.
Required reading for anyone who works in nonprofits or foundations. However, definitely not my handbook for the revolution. Rooted too solidly in capitalism and reforms instead of real & extensive systems reimagining for me, but who is surprised when the theme of the book is “money as medicine”. But still, id strongly recommend this for any nonprofit or foundation folks who need a primer on the ways colonialism and white supremacy inform the nonprofit industrial complex.
On my third reading already, soaking the wisdom of the healing practices outlined, into my bones. I will be gifting this book to my community, whether or not they are in the non-profit/philanthropy/impact fields.
During Part One of the book, "Where It Hurts," I was astounded by the beauty and love with which the author lays out fundamental issues in wealth acquisition, retention and distribution and common issues in philanthropy. He is honest, shares intimately and also very generous - immediately familiarizing the reader with the Lakota concept that we are all related, our thriving/suffering/healing is mutual and therefore we must be compassionate with each other (including with oppressors) if we are to fix this wealth gap.
As someone who works with money, I was soothed by his words around using money as medicine “…Money should be a tool of love, to facilitate relationships, to help us thrive, rather than to hurt and divide us. If it’s used for sacred, life-giving, restorative purposes, it can be medicine….[and] can help us decolonize.”
It is Part Two, Villanueva shares personal stories throughout, and gives especially touching and relatable instruction for how we might grieve, apologize, listen, relate, represent, invest in and repair with each other to come to the full circle healing that has been so needed in this country. It is this concept and framework for healing that I had no familiarity with, even after working in this sector for almost two decades. Sweet relief.
Decolonizing Wealth comes at a time when American society is frustrated and ready for change and when movements like #metoo and #blacklivesmatter, Beyonce’s Lemonade and Janelle Monae’s Dirty Computer, and #TRANSformHollywood are being heard. We are ready to move.
I can easily say that this book is changing my life and I can’t wait to see what it does for others.
More like 3.5. The author argues that money can be medicine to help heal the legacy of oppression and colonization of Black and Indigenous communities. While I appreciate his anecdotes and his ability to connect indigenous storytelling in this book, I'm not convinced that money is medicine. The book lacks a system's analysis as it relates to wealth attainment and distribution in the U.S. The audience for this book seems to be other funders and philanthropist who are just beginning their journey of awareness toward social and racial justice and aren't quite ready to hear that perhaps foundations shouldn't exist and the wealthy should be adequately and thoroughly taxed to redistribute resources...but whatever.
This book is a phenomenal read, and a clarion call to rethink the way foundations and philanthropic organizations operate, relate to others and seek to create change in the world. The subtitle of the book: “Indigenous wisdom to heal divides and restore balance” is a theme throughout, and Villanueva’s thoughtful, generous reflections on how we need everyone in order to create a decolonized world left me with softer perspectives, a wider heart and a desire to live my life in deep relationship with others.
The book is divided into two sections. The first section, titled “Where it Hurts”, outlines problems with the philanthropic sector, and evokes slavery with each chapter title to powerfully remind us that wealth in North America is more likely than not created through systems of oppression, and acts of theft and violence. In this section, Villanueva describes how philanthropy itself is based on colonial notions of separation and scarcity, notes that philanthropic organizations typically mirror colonial principles, outlines how funding largely does not reach people of colour, details how philanthropic organizations often do not share power meaningfully with those more marginalized, and critiques the sector for generally not addressing intersectionality well and creating unnecessary barriers to funding through the way applications are administered.
Reading about the pain and problems in the sector, it seems an impossible task to reform philanthropic spaces. But this is a book of hope, and in the second part of the book titled “How to Heal”, Villaneuva outlines seven steps (grieve, apologize, listen, relate, invest, repair) on how to heal and decolonize our relationship with wealth in order to use money for social good. Villanueva’s arguments are compelling, and are supported by the deeply personal stories he shares, his interviews with numerous practitioners in the field, and the scores of articles, books and scholars he references. This book invites readers to read more and there is so much this book offers for its reader to look up and continue learning.
I can't even begin to explain how necessary this book is in the field of philanthropy and wealth in general. Villanueva writes from the perspective of a Native person who has spent 15 (sometimes painful) years in philanthropy. The title of the book sounds a bit less practical than the content actually is. It gives real things that foundations and other wealth-having organizations can do to decolonize how they distribute and manage that wealth. It's a constant struggle where I work, and I'm sure it is felt at other institutions as well. The section on how wealth is invested at foundations was particularly cutting, but well deserved. Villanueva pulls no punches and I appreciate that. I only hope people at these organizations can start pushing (hard) in this direction.
Everyone in the nonprofit and philanthropy fields should read this book. Villanueva describes the current state of philanthropy more concerned about endowments, minimal payouts and ROI, rather than the true meaning of giving. Money, used as medicine, can help us decolonize with the Seven Steps of Healing: Grieve, Apologize, Listen, Relate, Represent, Invest, and Repair. As a member of the Lumbee nation in NC, his words are full of indigenous wisdom.
He illustrated his points with many stories of his experiences in the field of philanthropy. He particularly talked about the betrayal of the CEO of the foundation where he once worked, the Kate Reynolds Foundation. He never mentioned her name but we all know it is Karen McNeil-Miller, who is now CEO of, gulp, the Colorado Health Fdn. They are a very generous foundation and I have written many successful grant proposals to them for nearly all my clients. It would be interesting to hear her side of the story. However, there is something not quite right there as the retention rate for program officers of color is very low.
Nonetheless, good reading and I enjoyed reading about a lot of people I know who he did name in the field of philanthropy and hearing his truth-telling on the state of philanthropy, particularly the large well endowed institutions.
"Colonization seems totally normal because the history books are full of it—and because to this day many colonizing powers talk about colonization not with shame but with pride in their accomplishments—it’s so strange. Conquering is one thing: you travel to another place and take its resources, kill the people who get in your way, and then go home with your spoils. But in colonization, you stick around, occupy the land, and force the existing Indigenous people to become you. It’s like a zombie invasion: colonizers insist on taking over the bodies, minds, and souls of the colonized."
“Foundations and financial institutions let a few token people of color in because they see that we have a different quality of access to our communities and because we have some kind of wisdom that they want, but we are expected to completely assimilate.”
“Having a seat at the table is not the same as feeling free to speak in your own voice, to offer your own divergent ideas, to bring your full self to bear on the work.”
“The basis of traditional philanthropy is to preserve wealth, and that wealth is fundamentally money that’s been twice stolen,” writes author Edgar Villanueva in his new book “Decolonizing Wealth,” “once through the exploitation of natural resources and cheap labor, and the second time, through tax evasion.”
I’m very glad I read this book. It’s an easy read by someone who has worked most of his professional career in philanthropy. As a Native American he uses the lens of his life to dissect the racism of the structures within which he has worked. He does it in a direct and very clear way while telling the story with warmth and humor. He tells painful truths and gives examples of ways in which institutions both fail and succeed at facing the truths of the privilege within which they operate. While reading this book it caused me to think over and over again about how to use my own privilege in useful ways to encourage change within the institutions within which I live and work. It is a short, easy, beautiful, thoughtful, challenging read.
I think that this should be read by everyone who works in philanthropy and nonprofits. I think it could also benefit people interested in ethical investing. It lays a lot of groundwork; for me, the most important information was on organizations that area already moving away from top-down philanthropy. I hope Villanueva continues to write the stories of organizations that are succeeding at breaking away from the toxic practices that pull us all down.
A pivotal and must read for anyone in the nonprofit or finance sector. The continual point he makes is “money is medicine” and that the Indigenous of the world are the original philanthropists. There is such beauty in the acceptance of this truth and beginning to abolish the colonizer’s disease, as he writes. I would like to internalize many of these ideas and lessons and also share them with my colleagues and whoever I meet and wherever my nonprofit career takes me.
My boss gave me this book to read, and it has opened my eyes to the realities of philanthropy. I'm an idealist, and for as long as I can remember, I've dreamed of changing the world and helping people. Big dreams, sure, but also extremely abstract, something that I've realized as I've grown older.
When my parents and the rational side of my brain have pushed, I've entertained fleeting thoughts of doing something in philanthropy, but what or how, I couldn't have told you. After reading this book, I have a much better sense of what philanthropy is, but I am also now conscious of what it means to be a woman of colour in a field that purports to help people and handles billions of dollars while they're at it. There are, it seems, as many problems in philanthropy as there are outside of it, and I appreciated Villaneuva's honest - at times brutally so - take. He also introduced many intriguing Indigenous concepts, and his conceptualization of money and wealth is something that I hope to carry with me as a budding econ major and would-be philanthropist.
This book made me think deeply about things that I already know, and it forced me to look underneath the underneath, to examine the unspoken side of knowledge I take for granted.
Read this book! (Should be required.) Edgar Villanueva, the author, a Native American, is an experienced philanthropist officer for Foundations, and well-versed in his craft. But as he says, "Philanthropy, honey, we need an intervention." While the focus begins with philanthropy, the same dynamics apply to loans, venture capital, municipal bonds, impact investment, etc. His point is colonialism continues to be what ails both business and philanthropy and holds back our country, especially its poor. "You can't have capitalism without racism." This short, well-organized, pithy, at times funny, book aims at "using wealth to heal, not further harm." He talks about "money as medicine" and moving it to where the hurt is to heal divides and restore balance. He has practical solutions. We won't do them. They make too much sense.
An excellent book that should be required reading for everyone in philanthropy. There are so very many critical thoughts and questions here that stand to make all of our work better if we take them seriously. Many thanks to Villanueva for writing this incisive, important work.
Well-researched, great balance between date and interviews/narrative. Really important and timely for anyone that cares about the social sector in the U.S.
Full disclosure: BoardSource data are quoted twice in this book (and I did not know that before I read it).
A community is only healthy if we all take care of each other. Yes, and so grateful Villanueva said this so clearly. Also, consider altruism as being reserved only for wealthy (white) people. Woah. 100%.
I enjoyed this as an audio book - Edgar has a very interesting story to tell, and he does so with tremendous grace, sensitivity and personality. I like that he read his own book - it was really good to hear his voice (and his Voice). Some really excellent information about "how to" rethink and look at wealth, a few pop culture references, and a lot of his very personal experience. I would recommend reading this in print as well as audio book.
This book has a number of layers: first, let's talk about how philanthropy represents a disease in our society; philanthropy should not even exist (see also "Winners Take All"). Second, on a personal level, there's a lot of good history about his growth and development, influencing factors and his own shifts in perspective. Third, some really gentle but firm coaching for non-indigenous people on how to acknowledge, respect and contribute to making things better.
Edgar Villanueva, a Native American of the Lumbee tribe grew up in a low-income, rural North Carolina community. After completing his Masters in Health Care Administration at the University of North Carolina, he went to work for the Kate B. Reynolds Charitable Trust (KBR). Located in Winston Salem, NC, KBR’s money came from the estate of tobacco tycoon, R. J. Reynolds and was largely controlled by Wachovia Bank where its money was housed. With over $530 million in assets KBR has historically given most of its grants to organizations designed to provide health care to low income people. Because most of the leadership of the foundation came from within Wachovia Bank, KBR was funded by “old money” and served the charitable interests of the that elite group. Thus, the money went to large hospitals and established health institutions, rather than smaller, community-based organizations.
As a young, Native American from a low-income background, like most persons of color in foundation work, Villanueva was “out of his element.” But instead of cowering or just staying quiet and trying to fit in, Villanueva asked a fundamental question: What would it mean for foundations like KBR to allow the people most directly affected by issues of poverty, violence, inadequate health care and the like, to have a major voice in deciding how a foundation’s money is distributed and used? Despite their charitable intentions, foundations reinforce the colonialist mindset which created their wealth. The foundation Haves view recipients of their largesse as “Other,” as those who take their charity but from whom they are otherwise separated. Drawing on his Native American culture, he suggests that foundations should seek to truly understand the perspective and experience of those they are seeking to help, and give them a significant say in how money should be used.
Villanueva goes even further and says that while foundations are giving at least 5% of their earnings away (required by law), no one is asking how the other 95% is being invested. What good does it do to give money to organizations to solve a problem, if the way money is invested and earned is contributing to that problem? For example, what good is it to give money to groups addressing issues of climate change, if a major portion of investments are in fossil fuels like coal and oil, that contribute to that problem? The measure for foundations is not just how much money was giving away, but how was that money earned. In the second part of the book Villanueva calls out the white supremacy and settler colonialism that is at the heart of the world of the wealthy and of foundations. He shows how white supremacy has led to the great wealth of some and the significant disenfranchisement of many. In response he describes a seven-step process for rectifying the imbalances of wealth and power. While written specifically for those who work in foundations, this process also applies to wealthy people in general and less wealthy but comfortable white folks seeking to grapple with the history of white supremacy at the heart of the nation’s history, past and present.
While he has a chapter for each of the seven steps, briefly they are as follows: Step 1 – Grieve – Stop and feel the hurts that have endured and our ancestors have caused Native Americans, African Americans and other peoples of color Step 2 – Apologize – for those hurts in concrete ways. Step 3 – Listen - to those closest to the pain, to those exploited and excluded by the system, and learn from their wisdom and resilience. Step 4 – Relate – to those from whom we are separated by history, race, economics and much more; seek to understand rather than making our point. Step 5 – Represent – Build a whole new decision-making process that is designed to include the excluded in decision-making processes. Step 6 – Invest – our money where our commitments and values for equity, racial justice and the like are best used Step 7 – Repair – Use our money to heal hurts and stop the hurt from continuing.
Villanueva’s overall message is wealth, or the lack of it, need not be the thing that defines us socially, politically and economically. Those who have wealth can use it for healing, IF they open themselves to significant relationships and involvement with those closest to the pain, the victims of injustice in our society, the marginalized and those whose voices aren’t counted in society at large.
I have only touched on a small portion of the wisdom in this book about wealth, racism, colonialism and relationships. Our views of money and wealth need to be reassessed and redirected. While a short book, Decolonizing Wealth gives those who have even a modicum of wealth a powerful message that we must go against the grain of our “winner take all” society. Instead we need to follow the indigenous wisdom that tells us that no matter where we fall on the socioeconomic scale, we are all part of the same circle, and thereby connected and accountable to each other.
A brilliant book in its entirety: unflinching yet considerate, hard-hitting and sensitive.
Don't be fooled by the title: this is a book of universal wisdom that everyone should read. Yes he focuses his prescriptions on the realm of finance and philanthropy, but the parts that resonated most for me (even as someone in philanthropy) were the deeply human lessons about what colonization has meant... and what de-colonizing offers us.
It's one of the beautifully inviting books I've read in a long time: simultaneously unsparing in its description of the problems we're up against - the legacies of colonialism principally, but intertwined inevitably with white supremacy - while also deeply empathetic, even to the "colonizers". His tone is great - humble and even self-deprecating, acknowledging his own complicity in the systems he now decries (what he calls "internalized oppression.") As such it makes it eminently relatable and serves to disarm the reader who may feel defensive or otherwise pained by contemplating so much historical trauma.
I love love love the concept of "Mitakuye Oyasin", a Lakota term meaning "All My Relations". Meaning: everyone. All of us. Everything. We are all interdependent. There's so much to love about indigenous wisdom, about right relationship with earth, about community, about belonging, about reciprocity. He shares a great anecdote at the end, something to the effect that the arrival of the colonizers wasn't the original sin: it was forgetting the lessons. Not learning from the indigenous to embody a different way of being, one not predicated on "divide, control, exploit."
He elaborates: "The principle of All My Relations" means that everyone is at home here. Everyone has a responsibility in making things right. Everyone has a role in the process of healing, regardless of whether they caused or received more harm. All our suffering is mutual. All our healing is mutual. All our thriving is mutual." (pg. 11)
Yes. And here is the call to action. He offers a great 7-step process for "decolonizing": 1. Grieve 2. Apologize 3. Listen 4. Relate 5. Represent 6. Invest 7. Repair
I won't go into detail here; you should read the book. But it's beautiful because it's actionable. It does what Anand Giridharadas did not: it moves from critique to solutions. It offers principles for how we can choose a new path... one that already exists if only we trouble ourselves to follow those who have been treading it for generations.
My only critique - which feels like a more profound absence in the context of #MeToo, playing out in real time as he is writing - is the near-total lack of discussion around gender. He does such a great job talking about the "colonizing virus" and how it perpetuates "separateness" and "othering". He is clear in contextualizing racism within the broader context of white supremacy... and yet says nothing about patriarchy. This felt like a surprising omission to me, given how inter-related these systems are. Perhaps a subject for another book...
Oh man, am I conflicted about this book. If you work in non-profits, this isn't anything you're not aware of (or if you are unaware, you should be). The non-profit community has taken steps to recognize its diversity (what he calls "colonial") problems but it takes him 200 pages to get some solutions, which involve the absolutely mildest suggestion of reparations, and really only through the non-profit industry.
I think what he overlooks (or intentionally doesn't include) in his worldview is that colonialism is inherently tied to the rise of capitalism and the search for new labor markets to exploit. Settlers came to America not to make friends with Native Americans but to exploit the land of resources and search for gold, and when they couldn't find gold, they grew cotton and imported slaves so they wouldn't have to pay their workers. This is the financial model that built America and is still pretty much the model of capitalism that we have today, with wealth collected mostly at the top by exploiting whatever groups are easiest to exploit. Non-profits are great, but the fact is they're reliant on funding based on the whims of extremely wealthy people, mostly but not exclusively white, and I don't think they're going to give up a large share of their wealth to the general population because we ask nicely. It would be far more efficient and effective to just tax them and have the government provide the services people need as a basic human right rather than having thousands and thousands of organizations fighting over tiny grants to do projects that don't address the cause of inequality.
Early in the book, the author dismisses Audre Lorde's notion that "The master's tools will never dismantle the master's house," i.e. radical inequality requires dismantling the system rather than working within it, but the older I get and the more I see income inequality grow worldwide I start to think that Lorde is right. Man, I didn't realize how radicalized I've become until I read this book.
The audiobook was narrated by the author, so give it a listen if you have the option. I was surprised to hear a voice much like my own (a 30-something Southern male) imparting such wisdom about the history of injustice and the path forward, but the author and I differed in key ways. He is Indigenous and had to work very hard to gain his success; I am white and stood on the shoulders of generations of oppressors who passed on their privilege gained at the expense of Indigenous peoples and people of color. The book is really helpful in learning about these disparities; while I was hoping for something to help me deal with reparations on a personal level (this is targeted at fund managers), I am glad I took the opportunity to listen.
4.5 stars. To friends who work in philanthropy, social/impact investing, or even just control a donor-advised fund: This book challenged my internal preconceptions and assumptions about best practices in grantmaking. It also helped me better understand, recognize and address aspects of philanthropy that make me uncomfortable. I hope you allow it to do the same for you. This book is a good complement to Anand Giridharadas' Winners Take All, and Tema Okun's writing on recognizing white supremacy culture and dismantling racism.
A MUST READ for anyone who works at the nexus of money and justice, including people in the CDFI world. This author brilliantly exposes how wealth in this country is mostly stolen from Native people, African Americans, and low wage workers. Then he outlines a seven step program to use "money as medicine" and achieve a better balance between the wealth holders / controllers and the rest of us. Please read this and talk about it with everyone you know.
This was a fantastically written critique of the philanthropy industry and call to action. I appreciated Villanueva's balance between not holding anything back in identifying colonization & racism in wealth distribution and yet still providing practical approaches to address these realities. My biggest takeaway was the application of psychology knowledge of victims & perpetrators to the cycle of wealth distribution based on colonization.
"The Native way is to bring the oppressor into our circle of healing. Healing cannot occur unless everyone is part of the process. Let it begin." This book is a thoughtful provocative perspective on how foundations were built off the stolen wealth from the land and black and brown people, evade taxes to supposedly do good by donating money to mostly white led Nonprofits.