![]() |
|||
| Best Practices: Philanthropy | |||
| Sum of the Parts
Eileen Gunn 10/01/2004 |
|||
Five years ago, the staff at the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation (RWJ) in Princeton, N.J., began to see a growing number of grant requests for programs designed to increase access to dental care in rural and inner-city communities, especially among the elderly and uninsured families. “There were few dentists willing or trained to serve these populations,” says Judith Stavisky, senior program officer at the foundation. She began looking into ways that RWJ might address the problem. “Ninety-five percent of the folks I talked to said, ‘You won’t make a dent until you change who goes to dental school,’” she recalls. Stavisky’s research found that only 10 percent of the people who graduate from dental school are African-American or Hispanic and, as might be expected, few come from those communities where dental care is scarce. The foundation came
up with an idea for an ambitious program aimed at encouraging dental schools to
recruit more diverse applicants and to help them with tuition, as well as adding
courses in public health awareness to dental school curriculums and by working
community-based stints into student residencies. It was a hefty agenda to take
on single-handedly, so when Stavisky heard through the grapevine that the W.K.
Kellogg Foundation in Battle Creek, Mich., had been looking into ways to fund
dental scholarships for low-income and minority students, she called it to see
if the two well-heeled foundations might work together.“We’re big, but the issues we’re tackling in health care are bigger,” says Paul Tarini, a spokesman at RWJ, which has assets of $8 billion. “Getting enough effort focused on a problem to really make change happen is tough and beyond our resources.” Instead, the foundation is aiming at what Stavisky terms “cataclysmic” changes in dental school education, in collaboration with the $5.7 billion Kellogg Foundation and the California Endowment, which turned out to have a similar statewide program in mind.
The main reason foundation leaders decide to collaborate is that they wish to tackle colossal issues such as ending homelessness in a major metropolitan area, making health care available to all Americans or stopping the spread of AIDS in underdeveloped countries. These are problems that require a commitment of time, as well as money—time to lobby Congress or oversee construction of homes and clinics. “People now want to achieve these philanthropic goals in their lifetimes,” notes Robert Mahaffey, vice president of the National Center for Family Philanthropy in Washington. While benefactors have traditionally established perpetual family foundations, more of them today are spending down their assets themselves in order to accomplish more in less time. Add a collaborative program, Mahaffey advises, and that “is the best way to maximize your ability to effect change.” It Takes a Network Bill George, former CEO of Medtronic, a Minneapolis medical device company, and his wife, Penny, were able to lengthen their $30 million family foundation’s philanthropic reach by working with others of like mind. Penny’s bout with breast cancer in the mid-1990s left the couple convinced that the U.S. health care system is long on technological advances but short on the sort of one-on-one care that factors in total mental and physical well-being. Riled up, they agreed to use the George Family Foundation’s resources to promote the latter. One of their first projects was to give
money to the University of Minnesota’s medical school to fund the development of
a new curriculum that would introduce integrative medical care. They knew they
were, as Penny readily acknowledges, “trying to change the medical system with
$150,000,” and from early on began thinking about how they might find partners.
For the Georges, however, establishing a network began with their own foundation administrator, Diane Neimann, who knew many people in the fund-raising community and began to spread the word through her connections. They invited other foundation leaders to a conference at which health care professionals spoke about how foundation money could make the most impact. That eventually led to the Philanthropic Collaborative for Integrative Medicine, which the Georges formed in 2002 with a group of roughly two dozen grant-makers interested in holistic medical care. One of the collaborative’s first projects was to provide funding that enabled a group of six leading medical schools, including Harvard and Duke, to jointly develop a curriculum; rather than providing six grants to as many schools, they had a consortium that could accomplish the same goal with one grant. By the late summer of this year, the group had 27 schools involved and the collaborative was gearing up for step two: funding faculty training for the new curriculum. This is not to say it was easy for the Georges to find matches for their particular philanthropic passion. Penny grimaces: “It was like finding needles in haystacks.” It may take months for a collaborative group to figure out its joint objectives, not to mention the number of gatherings it might take just to get a group of people who started out as strangers to trust one another. “People are gun-shy because almost any contact they have has a hidden agenda. Everyone wants their money,” Penny says. Foundation leaders who have successfully worked with partners point out that it often helps to tread into discussions of collaboration gradually, starting out with a series of meetings or a conference where the goal is simply to exchange information or learn more about a particular issue together, and putting discussions about financial commitments on the back burner. Some of the people the Georges invited to their first conference declined to join in on the collaborative, preferring to work individually. Arm twisting, cajoling and even gentle persuasion are definitely not tactics anyone recommends when a potential member expresses reluctance. Let that person ride off into the sunset. “You
have to have a lot of risk tolerance and the flexibility to change direction
midstream, and not everyone does,” notes Chris Page, senior vice president of
Rockefeller Philanthropy Advisors in New York, a firm that advises individuals
and foundations on their philanthropic strategies, manages administrative
details and helps clients set up collaborations. One of the firm’s earlier
collaborative missions was to help individual members of the Rockefeller family
join together with one another and other philanthropists on projects, including
one they started in 1993 to keep community gardens growing in New York. |