Category Archives: Philanthropy

Give Black App: A Digital Gatekeeper For African American Philanthropy & Institutional Capital

“We must invest in ourselves. Without our own institutions, we will always be at the mercy of others.” – Mary McLeod Bethune

In the long arc of African American economic life, a recurring pattern emerges: the institutions most critical to our survival are consistently starved of capital, while the broader society thrives off of our labor, culture, and creativity. From Reconstruction-era mutual aid societies to the undercapitalized HBCUs of today, the struggle has never been whether African Americans are generous, but whether that generosity is systematically directed into institutions that can build durable power.

The Give Black App, founded by David C. Hughes, Alexus Hall, and Fran Harris, positions itself at this inflection point. It is not simply an app but a digital strategy—one attempting to reshape the flow of African American philanthropy and donations by curating, centralizing, and amplifying support for Black-led institutions.

The Context of Underfunding

African American nonprofits receive disproportionately less funding compared to their White counterparts. A 2020 Bridgespan study found that unrestricted net assets of White-led nonprofits were 76% larger than those of Black-led nonprofits, while revenues were 24% higher. These disparities compound over time. For HBCUs, the story is even starker: the endowments of all 100+ HBCUs combined is less than 1/10th of Harvard University’s alone.

Despite African America’s estimated $1.8 trillion in annual buying power, only a fraction is captured by its own institutions. Much of African American giving remains individual-to-individual or church-centered, providing immediate relief but not the kind of long-term institutional scaffolding needed to compete with White or global capital. Platforms like Give Black attempt to redirect that generosity into a framework where dollars reinforce permanence.

Building the Infrastructure of Giving

Give Black’s strength lies in infrastructure, a word often overlooked in philanthropy. The app operates as a digital gatekeeper, cataloguing Black-led nonprofits and enabling donors—whether individuals, alumni associations, or grassroots organizations—to find and fund them with ease.

This may seem simple, but its implications are profound. In an environment where discoverability is one of the greatest barriers for Black-led organizations, Give Black centralizes attention. For the countless nonprofits that lack robust marketing budgets, development officers, or national visibility, the app provides a seat at the table they would otherwise be denied.

The team itself reflects intentional design. Hughes, a Morehouse and Prairie View alumnus, carries the academic gravitas to engage institutions; Hall, with a background in cybersecurity and software sales, grounds the platform’s technical operations; Harris, a lifelong advocate of Black love and economic empowerment, provides the cultural grounding and marketing voice. Alongside them stand directors rooted in community engagement, finance, athletics, and science. Together, they represent a cross-section of African American life that mirrors the very community the app seeks to serve.

Philanthropy Meets Technology

Unlike GoFundMe or Benevity, which serve broad audiences, Give Black narrows its focus: African American-led institutions. This specificity is both its greatest strength and its potential vulnerability. By making African American philanthropy visible and trackable, the app attempts to normalize institutional giving within the community itself.

African American donors, long used to personal giving—funeral funds, tuition help, emergency assistance—are now asked to see their dollars not just as charity but as investment. An app that allows for transparency, accountability, and impact measurement may finally bridge the gap between intent and sustained institutional support.

Technology also democratizes giving. Younger generations, accustomed to digital wallets and mobile donations, are unlikely to write checks or mail contributions. By existing where they already transact, Give Black normalizes philanthropy as part of daily life. With proper marketing, it could serve as a digital equivalent of the collection plate—except one that sends dollars to Black think tanks, schools, health clinics, and endowment foundations rather than solely to Sunday offerings.

The Role of Fran Harris

Much of the initial confusion about Give Black’s leadership arises from Fran Harris’s name. She openly jokes about it—she is not the Fran Harris who was a WNBA champion or Shark Tank winner, though many assume otherwise. Instead, she distinguishes herself as someone whose “entire life has been about Black love and economic empowerment.”

That distinction matters. Whereas celebrity often drives visibility in African American philanthropy, Harris positions herself not as a star but as a steward of a broader vision. Her work focuses on the storytelling and cultural marketing needed to align African American giving with institutional capital. In a sense, her humor in addressing the name confusion underscores the seriousness of her actual role: grounding the app’s message in authenticity rather than celebrity.

The Gaps in the Strategy

Despite its promise, Give Black faces hurdles. First, fundraising expertise at the highest level appears limited within the core team. Major philanthropy is an industry of its own, requiring seasoned development officers capable of cultivating seven- and eight-figure gifts. Without this, Give Black risks becoming a platform for small-dollar giving—important, but insufficient for closing institutional capital gaps.

Second, technological depth must match ambition. While Hall’s cybersecurity background provides operational credibility, scaling a fintech-style platform requires CTO-level leadership. Issues of compliance, data integrity, and user trust are not optional—they are the foundation of sustainability.

Third, policy and compliance matter. Donations intersect with financial regulations, nonprofit law, and IRS oversight. To become the definitive gateway for Black giving, Give Black must not only build a sleek front end but also a back-end architecture that can withstand regulatory scrutiny and instill donor confidence.

Where the Opportunities Lie

The greatest opportunities for Give Black lie in institutional self-reliance.

One clear pathway is through alumni networks. HBCU alumni giving rates remain in the single digits, compared to 20–30% at elite PWIs. If Give Black positioned itself as the official conduit for alumni donations, it could help double or triple those rates over time. That alone would shift millions into endowments and operating budgets across the HBCU ecosystem.

Another opportunity lies in membership-based organizations—from professional networks to civic associations. Instead of dues going solely toward programming, portions could be funneled into long-term institutional giving through Give Black, creating a culture of collective philanthropy.

The Pan-African Diaspora represents yet another opening. African and Caribbean communities abroad are increasingly connected digitally. Give Black could expand to become a Pan-African philanthropic bridge, enabling solidarity between African Americans and global Black communities. Diaspora donors, often seeking trustworthy channels for giving, could find in Give Black a centralized, transparent platform.

Finally, the most transformative opportunity is to integrate endowment-building features directly into the app. Too much African American giving is trapped in the cycle of operating expenses. By redirecting portions of donations into permanent capital funds, Give Black could help institutions create reserves that outlast political climates and economic downturns.

Lessons from History

The urgency of Give Black’s mission must be seen against history. During the early 20th century, White-controlled philanthropy dictated the survival of many HBCUs. Institutions like Hampton and Tuskegee often relied on Northern industrialists whose donations came with ideological strings attached. The absence of African American-controlled philanthropic infrastructure meant dependency—and dependency always meant vulnerability.

Today, African American institutions still operate under the shadow of that dependency. Foundation funding remains racially skewed, and government support is often politically weaponized. Give Black, by offering a decentralized and community-driven alternative, challenges that cycle.

But history also warns: movements that lack discipline or scale are easily absorbed or ignored. Just as the Negro Leagues produced baseball talent but lacked the capital to maintain independence, so too can African American philanthropy generate excitement but fail to sustain institutional life if it is not channeled strategically.

The Verdict

Give Black App is not merely a digital donation tool. It is a test case: can African America leverage technology to redirect its wealth into its own institutions? The team’s composition, heavy in HBCU roots, marketing authenticity, and community engagement, suggests it understands both the stakes and the culture.

Still, the app must avoid the trap of becoming a feel-good project without measurable institutional outcomes. Its long-term success will be determined by whether it can:

  1. Secure partnerships with HBCUs, alumni associations, and membership-based organizations.
  2. Develop deep fundraising and compliance infrastructure.
  3. Normalize institutional giving across African American households.

If it does, Give Black could evolve into a cornerstone of African American institutional development—a kind of digital Freedman’s Bureau, redistributing not charity but power.

For African America, the stakes could not be higher. In an era where White nonprofits sit on multibillion-dollar endowments, while Black nonprofits scrape for survival, the question is not whether we are generous. It is whether our generosity is building the kind of institutions that ensure survival for centuries, not just survival for today.

Give Black, if scaled with vision and discipline, may finally provide the infrastructure to answer that question with a resounding yes.

A Legacy Reclaimed: Why SUNO and Dillard University Should Jointly Acquire the Amistad Research Center

When we control the archives, we control the memory. And when we control the memory, we control the meaning.” – Dr. Tera W. Hunter

The Amistad Research Center, one of the most significant archives of African American, ethnic minority, and social justice records in the United States, is facing a financial crisis that threatens its very existence. With nearly 40 percent of its federal funding cut and widespread staff layoffs already in effect, the Center is at a critical juncture. Rather than see it wither under institutional neglect or be absorbed into organizations disconnected from its cultural roots, a powerful and historically grounded solution stands within reach: a joint acquisition by Southern University at New Orleans and Dillard University.

This would not be a rescue it would be a return. Amistad was originally founded in 1966 at Fisk University and moved to Dillard in 1969, where it remained for nearly two decades. The Center thrived during its years at Dillard, deepening its collections and community relationships before relocating to Tulane University in 1987. That move, while promising better resources and facilities, ultimately distanced Amistad from the very community and institutional ecosystem that had nurtured its growth.

Southern University at New Orleans, founded in 1956, has long been an anchor for working-class Black families in New Orleans. Its commitment to public access, social justice, and Black advancement makes it a natural co-steward. Notably, Florence Borders, one of the most influential archivists in the history of Amistad, served as Senior Archivist at the Center from 1970 to 1989 before continuing her career as head archivist at SUNO. Her career trajectory embodies the institutional and intellectual bridge between Amistad, Dillard, and SUNO, a legacy that can now be cemented through a shared act of reclamation.

A joint venture would allow both HBCUs to leverage their complementary strengths. SUNO brings the infrastructure of a public institution and a clear mission focused on access and equity. Dillard offers private fundraising agility and deep roots in the liberal arts and cultural production. Together, they could create a sustainable governance structure that allows the archive to maintain its independence while benefiting from shared resources. Each university could contribute faculty, staff, research infrastructure, and development expertise toward a unified vision that ensures Amistad’s collections remain accessible, curated with cultural sensitivity, and protected against predatory acquisitions or institutional sidelining.

The benefits for students and faculty would be transformative. Internships, research assistantships, and practicums tied to archival collections would offer unparalleled experiential learning. New certificate programs in archival science, public history, and digital preservation could emerge positioning both institutions as national leaders in archival education. Amistad’s holdings over 15 million items, including manuscripts, oral histories, art, and periodicals could drive the creation of entire departments and interdisciplinary research clusters focused on African American, Afro-Caribbean, Latinx, Indigenous, and diasporic studies.

The public-facing impact of such a joint acquisition is equally significant. New Orleans, a city with a long history of being a crucible of Black culture and resistance, would gain a consolidated Black archival institution that serves not only scholars but communities. Cultural tourism centered on rotating exhibitions, lectures, and historical installations could add economic and civic value. A jointly governed Amistad Center could partner with local schools to support history education, oral history collection, and family archive projects embedding itself in the civic life of the region.

There are also compelling financial reasons for this move. A high-profile acquisition effort would attract major philanthropic interest, particularly among donors looking to support racial equity, archival preservation, and HBCU development. Foundations like Mellon, Ford, and IMLS have historically supported Amistad and similar institutions, but their funding often becomes more robust when institutional alignment and long-term sustainability are demonstrated. By crafting a visionary joint ownership model, SUNO and Dillard could access deeper grantmaking relationships while also launching a national endowment campaign to stabilize the archive permanently.

To be successful, the joint venture would need clear governance. A dedicated board composed of SUNO and Dillard faculty, independent scholars, archivists, community leaders, and Amistad staff should be established. This board would be responsible for curatorial direction, budget oversight, and public engagement ensuring the Center’s founding mission remains intact while also adapting to contemporary challenges and technologies.

This acquisition would signal a new paradigm in Black institutional development. It would show that HBCUs are no longer waiting to be invited into the rooms where decisions about cultural memory are made. Instead, they are building and owning those rooms. The quiet transfer of African American cultural assets into majority white institutions especially under financial duress has been a persistent form of cultural dispossession. What SUNO and Dillard can demonstrate is that reclamation is possible. That ownership, not just stewardship, is the future.

This opportunity will not wait. ARC’s financial instability is already endangering collections and community access. Every day that passes without an institutional intervention increases the risk of fragmentation, inaccessibility, or outright closure. The time to act is now—not just for preservation, but for power.

Together, Southern University at New Orleans and Dillard University can redefine what it means to protect and elevate Black history. They can transform the Amistad Research Center from a vulnerable institution into a fortified intellectual fortress. They can move us from crisis to control, from neglect to legacy.

This is more than a proposal. It is a blueprint for Black institutional sovereignty. History is watching. And it is offering a chance to write the next chapter not just about the past we preserve, but the future we intend to build.

A Merger of (Potential) Might: Why Prairie View A&M and Texas Southern Should Combine Their Foundations to Challenge the Endowment Establishment

It is reason, and not passion, which must guide our deliberations, guide our debate, and guide our decision. – Barbara Jordan

In the gilded halls of America’s elite universities, financial firepower is both a symbol and source of dominance. Endowments—the great silent engines of academia—determine not only which students get scholarships but which schools can recruit Nobel-calibre faculty, fund original research, and shape public policy. At the apex of this order stands UTIMCO, the University of Texas and Texas A&M’s investment juggernaut, with more than $70 billion under management. Below, far below, exist the undercapitalised yet ambitious Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) of Texas.

Two of the state’s largest HBCUs—Prairie View A&M University (PVAMU) and Texas Southern University (TSU)—have long histories, loyal alumni, and vital missions. What they do not have is institutional wealth. PVAMU’s foundation reported a modest $1.83 million in net assets in 2022. TSU’s foundation, better capitalised, holds $22.7 million. Combined, that amounts to just $24.5 million. For comparison, Rice University, less than 50 miles from either campus, holds an endowment north of $7.8 billion.

That yawning disparity matters. But it also presents an opportunity: a merger of the two foundations into a single, more potent philanthropic and investment entity. Done properly, it could reorient how Black higher education competes—not by appealing to fairness or guilt, but through scale, strategy, and institutional force.

A Rebalancing Act

To understand the potential of a PVAMU-TSU foundation merger, one must first grasp the dynamics of university endowments. Large endowments benefit from economies of scale, granting them access to exclusive investment opportunities—private equity, venture capital, hedge funds—often unavailable to smaller players. They attract the best fund managers, demand lower fees, and can weather market volatility without compromising their missions. Small foundations, by contrast, tend to be conservatively invested, costly to manage per dollar, and too fragmented to punch above their weight.

A consolidated HBCU foundation in Texas would be small compared to UTIMCO, but large relative to its peers. With a $25 million corpus as a starting point, the new entity could position itself for growth by professionalising its investment strategy, adopting a more ambitious donor engagement plan, and forming partnerships with Black-owned banks, family offices, and community institutions. Call it the Texas Black Excellence Fund, or perhaps, more simply, the TexHBCU Endowment.

To be sure, the legal and logistical barriers to such a merger are real. Foundation boards guard their autonomy jealously. Alumni pride can turn parochial. Governance models would need careful negotiation to ensure representation and avoid turf wars. But the arguments in favour are compelling.

The Power of One

First, a merger would cut overhead. Legal, accounting, auditing, and compliance costs—duplicated today—could be streamlined. A joint fundraising apparatus could create a single point of entry for corporate partners and high-net-worth donors. Branding efforts would gain coherence: instead of competing for attention, the institutions would stand together as a symbol of Black institutional unity and strength.

Second, scale invites leverage. A $25 million foundation cannot change the world overnight, but it can attract co-investments, engage in pooled funds, and perhaps even launch a purpose-driven asset management firm in the model of UTIMCO. If successful, this would be the first Black-led institutional investor of serious size in Texas—capable not only of managing endowment funds but of influencing broader economic flows across Black Texas.

Third, the merger would send a strategic signal to policymakers and philanthropic networks. It would say, in effect: “We are no longer asking for permission to grow. We are building the engine ourselves.” That tone matters. Too often, HBCUs are framed as needing rescue. A merged foundation flips that narrative. It becomes an asset allocator, a market participant, a builder of capital rather than a petitioner of it.

UTIMCO: A Goliath in the Crosshairs?

No one expects a $25 million fund to challenge a $70 billion behemoth. But that is not the point. UTIMCO’s dominance is as much political as it is financial. Its influence flows from its role as gatekeeper to resources, shaping everything from campus architecture to graduate fellowships. The merged HBCU foundation would not dethrone UTIMCO—it would decentralise power by becoming a second pole.

Indeed, the comparison may inspire mimicry. Just as UTIMCO serves multiple institutions, so too could a joint HBCU foundation. Prairie View and Texas Southern are only the beginning. Over time, the model could scale to include other Black-serving institutions across Texas and the South. This would amplify investment impact and accelerate institutional wealth-building.

Moreover, such a foundation could adopt an unapologetically developmental investment strategy. Where UTIMCO optimises for returns, the TexHBCU fund could optimise for both returns and racial equity—by investing in Black entrepreneurs, affordable housing, climate-resilient infrastructure, or educational tech. The dual mandate—profit and purpose—would not be a hindrance but a hallmark.

Regional Stakes

Prairie View sits on a rural hilltop. Texas Southern sprawls in urban Houston. But their communities are deeply connected—culturally, economically, demographically. A combined foundation could create regional development strategies that go beyond scholarship aid.

Imagine a venture fund seeding Black-owned start-ups in Houston’s Third Ward. A real estate initiative turning vacant lots into mixed-income housing for PVAMU students and local residents. A workforce development fund retraining returning citizens for green jobs across both cities. Each dollar invested becomes more than a balance sheet entry; it becomes a force for transformation.

This matters not just to students and faculty, but to the broader Texas economy. Black Texans make up 13% of the state population but own less than 3% of its small businesses. Educational attainment gaps persist. Institutional neglect deepens. The merger would not fix all this—but it would give the community a new tool for shaping its destiny.

Copy, Then Paste

If the model works, it would not stay in Texas. Southern University in Louisiana has multiple campuses and foundations that could benefit from consolidation. So does the University System of Maryland’s HBCUs. Indeed, the entire sector could adopt a federated endowment strategy—unified in purpose but distributed in governance.

HBCUs have long suffered from institutional atomisation. They are asked to compete individually in a system that rewards consolidation. Merging foundations is not just a finance play—it is a strategy for survival and sovereignty.

The Alternative: Stagnation

Critics may say a merger is too ambitious. That it risks alumni backlash or donor confusion. That it could take years to execute. But delay is itself a cost. Each year the foundations remain separate is another year of opportunity lost. Another year where millions in potential returns go unrealised. Another year where larger institutions deepen their lead.

PVAMU and TSU have histories to be proud of. But institutional pride must not become institutional inertia. A merger is not surrender—it is evolution.

In the long arc of higher education, moments of boldness define legacy. This is one of those moments. Two foundations. One future. Let the uniting begin.

If the State Won’t Pay, the Rich Must: The $27.5 Billion Endowment Public Broadcasting Now Requires

“In the absence of state support, those with capital must decide: will they merely enjoy the benefits of a stable society—or invest in the institutions that make it possible?”
Arielle Morgan, Senior Fellow, Institute for Civic Infrastructure

The withdrawal of $1.1 billion in federal funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting is not merely a fiscal adjustment—it is a structural dislocation. It marks the effective end of a decades-long social contract in which the U.S. government ensured the existence of a nationwide, non-commercial broadcasting ecosystem intended to serve the public interest. For PBS, NPR, and their hundreds of affiliate stations across the country, the clock is now ticking toward an uncertain future.

But if the U.S. government is no longer willing to fund public broadcasting, another powerful bloc may have to: the ultra-wealthy and the corporations that have long built brand equity on the back of public trust and public platforms. In other words, the very elite who most benefit from stability, reliable information, and a functioning democracy may now be expected to underwrite one of its most foundational institutions.

The price tag? $27.5 billion.

A Simple, Uncomfortable Equation

To replace $1.1 billion in federal funding with investment returns, the equation is straightforward. Using a conservative draw rate of 4%—commonly applied by universities and foundations to ensure long-term preservation of capital—an endowment of $27.5 billion would be required to generate that annual payout.

This is not a charity exercise. It is a capital strategy.

To reach this target, two basic donor models stand out:

  • 275 individuals contributing $100 million each
  • 2,750 individuals contributing $10 million each

These figures are within striking distance of the top echelon of American wealth. As of 2024, the United States had over 800 billionaires and more than 23,000 centi-millionaires (individuals with $100 million or more in net worth). Put bluntly, it would require only 1.2% of America’s centi-millionaires to secure the future of public broadcasting in perpetuity.

What’s at Stake for the Elite

There is a growing recognition—even among the ultra-wealthy—that civil society must be preserved, even if governments no longer have the capacity or political will to do so. The fragility of liberal democracy, demonstrated by political polarization, misinformation, and institutional distrust, poses long-term risks not only to the electorate but also to markets, capital flows, and reputational value.

Public broadcasting—independent, educational, and widely trusted—has long been a stabilizing force in this ecosystem. Its reach into rural towns, inner cities, and suburban households makes it a conduit for shared narratives and factual baselines. It is not exaggeration to say that NPR and PBS, through All Things Considered, NewsHour, Frontline, and Sesame Street, have helped preserve a measure of social cohesion in a deeply divided country.

For the ultra-wealthy, losing this infrastructure would not simply be a cultural loss. It would be a strategic risk.

Hence the question: if the state won’t fund it, why won’t they?

The Precedent Is There

Large-scale philanthropic endowments are nothing new. In the past two decades:

  • Michael Bloomberg has donated over $3.3 billion to his alma mater Johns Hopkins University.
  • MacKenzie Scott has given away over $16 billion since 2019.
  • The Gates Foundation operates with a $67 billion endowment and deploys billions annually to global health and education initiatives.
  • Ken Griffin recently contributed $300 million to Harvard University.

Yet public broadcasting—a sector with tangible civic impact—has rarely drawn the same scale of contribution. This may be due in part to its status as a federal recipient, which gave the impression of permanence and stability. That illusion has now evaporated.

What remains is the opportunity to build a truly private-public media model—one whose operating capital is drawn from private wealth but whose editorial independence is legally insulated from donor interference.

A Corporate Response to a Public Crisis

Philanthropists are not the only entities positioned to act. Corporations, particularly those with vested interests in news, content, or public trust, have a strategic imperative to help capitalise such an endowment. Among the most obvious candidates:

  • Technology firms such as Apple, Amazon, Google, and Meta, which dominate digital content distribution and advertising, but face persistent scrutiny over misinformation and platform responsibility.
  • Media conglomerates such as Comcast, Disney, and Paramount, whose own news divisions benefit from a well-informed public and a credible informational ecosystem.
  • Financial firms such as JPMorgan Chase, Goldman Sachs, and BlackRock, for whom geopolitical and social stability underpin long-term asset growth.

Indeed, a structured vehicle—such as a Public Broadcasting Endowment Corporation (PBEC)—could allow corporations to make long-term contributions that are tax-deductible, reputationally beneficial, and materially impactful. Their names need not appear on programming or editorial decisions; the return on investment would be brand credibility and a stronger civic framework.

Moreover, such a fund could become a flagship ESG initiative—aligning corporate interests with measurable civic outcomes.

Structuring the Capital Stack

A diversified funding approach would enhance resilience and buy-in. A potential framework:

Donor TypeTarget ContributionTotal
275 HNWIs @ $100M$27.5 billion100%
OR
1,000 HNWIs @ $10M$10 billion36%
100 Corporates @ $100M$10 billion36%
Broad-based campaign$7.5 billion28%
Total$27.5 billion100%

A broad-based campaign could also complement elite contributions. Imagine a national “Democracy Dividend” campaign: one million Americans pledging $1,000 annually for ten years. That alone would yield $10 billion—a testament to public commitment alongside private wealth.

From Pledge Drives to Private Equity

Public broadcasting has traditionally raised funds through grassroots donations and corporate underwriting. But this model is no longer viable on its own. What is required is a transition from pledge drives to portfolio management.

The envisioned endowment would be governed by a professional board and investment committee, structured similarly to major university endowments. Earnings would be deployed annually to:

  • Sustain local PBS and NPR affiliates, especially in underserved areas
  • Support original investigative journalism and children’s educational content
  • Fund innovation in digital and streaming public media
  • Preserve and digitize historic programming archives
  • Maintain emergency broadcast systems and rural information networks

Crucially, editorial integrity would be enshrined by legal charter—preventing donors or sponsors from influencing content.

Philanthropy as Infrastructure

Too often, philanthropy is reactive—applied to symptoms rather than systems. An endowment, by contrast, is structural. It is a recognition that certain institutions are too important to be left at the mercy of annual budgets, market swings, or election cycles.

The erosion of federal support for public broadcasting is a warning signal. The infrastructure of civic life—fact-based journalism, educational programming, and communal storytelling—requires capital insulation, not just ideological support.

This is not about saving Big Bird or Masterpiece Theatre. It is about fortifying one of the last remaining platforms where Americans—regardless of political identity or geography—encounter one another not as algorithms or enemies, but as citizens.

Will the Wealthy Step Up?

The government has walked away. The funding gap is real. But the wealth to close it is readily available.

If even a fraction of the world’s wealthiest individuals and corporations stepped forward with capital rather than condolences, the future of public broadcasting could shift from a question of survival to a model of strategic, sovereign independence.

In the end, it is not about whether we can raise $27.5 billion. It is whether the people most capable of doing so will finally recognise that their wealth is not a wall—but a bridge to a more stable, informed, and democratic society.

🎯 Key Facts

  • Total CPB federal subsidy rescinded: $1.1 billion
  • This funding supports both PBS and NPR, primarily by supporting local member stations.
  • Goal: Replace $1.1 billion per year in perpetuity through investment returns from an endowment.

📊 Endowment Calculation Assumptions

To generate $1.1 billion annually, the endowment must safely yield that amount without depleting principal.

ScenarioInvestment ReturnAnnual Draw RateRequired Endowment
Conservative5% return4% draw$27.5 billion
Moderate6% return4% draw$27.5 billion
Ambitious8% return5% draw$22 billion

Rule of Thumb:

  • Endowment needed = Annual Budget ÷ Draw Rate
  • So for $1.1 billion with a 4% draw:
    $1,100,000,000 ÷ 0.04 = $27.5 billion

🏛️ Comparisons to Similar Institutions

InstitutionEndowmentNotes
Harvard University$50.7B (2024)Largest university endowment
Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation$67B (2024)Largest U.S. philanthropic fund
NPRN/ADoes not have a large central endowment
Howard University$1B (2024)Largest HBCU endowment

🔄 Alternatives or Supplements

If not a full endowment, partial coverage models could include:

  • A $5B–$10B endowment paired with annual fundraising
  • Public-private consortiums involving universities, foundations, and philanthropists

💡 Final Recommendation

To fully replace the $1.1B annual CPB subsidy, a minimum $27.5 billion endowment would be needed under conservative investment assumptions.
This figure ensures long-term sustainability without needing annual appropriations or political reauthorization.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

$30 Billion: The Endowment Needed To Close The Annual Associate’s Degree Gap Between African American Men-Women

By William A. Foster, IV

“Dear Young Black Males… Always remember to hold your head up high, and NEVER doubt who you are. Believe in yourself SO much that other people’s negative words, opinions, and energy won’t discourage or hinder you.” – Stephanie Lahart

African Americans continue to be the only group where the women outnumber the men in terms of employment. The systemic reasons for this abound and not particularly the focus in this piece, but one of those areas is certainly educational obtainment. Whereas African American girls are in large part taught to focus on mental and academic achievement as a means of success, African American boys are taught to focus on physical and athletic achievement as a means of success. The two most notable gaps are at the Associate’s degree and Doctor’s degree levels where there is a difference of 350 basis points and 390 basis points, respectively. While it would be nice to see more African American young men getting Bachelor’s degrees, from an economic reality, simply getting more of them with an Associate’s is cheaper and faster in terms of return on investment for the community.

Enter the 10 HBCUs that are community or technical colleges along with UDC who has community college division while still being a 4-year institution. This collection of HBCUs represents a network of community and technical colleges dedicated to providing accessible, affordable education and workforce development opportunities. Focused on serving African American communities, these institutions offer associate degrees, certificates, and vocational training programs. There is also the opportunity to create a pipeline to four-year HBCUs or direct entry into the workforce. They emphasize community enrichment, economic mobility, and leadership development, often incorporating faith-based or mission-driven values. Collectively, they play a vital role in empowering individuals and strengthening the communities they serve.

As of 2021-2022 according to NCES, there is an approximately 50,000 Associate’s degree gap between African American Women and Men (Table Below) with women obtaining almost 85,000 Associate degrees annually and men obtaining just over 37,000 Associate degrees annually. The major obstacle to these 10 HBCUs closing the gap is what ails most systemic issues facing African America – finances. These 10 HBCUs have an average tuition cost of $6,500 and median tuition cost of $5,300. But in order cost of attendance is a far more accurate because it includes the ability to pay for residence be it on-campus or off-campus, meal plans, books, and other necessities of educational obtainment. The average and median for that related to these 10 HBCUs is approximately $20,000 which is inclusive of the tuition and fee cost. This cost of attendance is due to both the low cost of tuition at two-year institutions in general and these HBCUs being located in affordable towns as a whole. However, it maybe a lot to ask if the goal is to truly incentivize enough African American Men to take two years if they were not intending to and by the numbers many clearly are not intending to go to college even for an Associate’s degree without a cherry on top. Simply ensuring they have full tuition and room/board is enticing, but it is likely not enough. If we look at this as a salary, then paying African American Men $20,000 a year to be students is probably not going to cut it. However, pushing that number to say $30,000 a year with a disposable income of $10,000 per year could be enough to bring many into the fray.

Here is the math of getting to $30 billion. Assuming our endowment for this program can generate 5% annually, then it would take $600,000 in principal to generate the $30,000 necessary per student. That is $600,000 times the 50,000 gap we need to close annually or $30 billion. Enough to generate $1.5 billion in interest. At current, there are no African American institutions that are either non-profit or for-profit valued at $30 billion. Howard University has the largest African American non-profit endowment and it is just under $1 billion. World Wide Technology is the most valuable for-profit firm at $20 billion and its African American ownership in the firm at 59 percent makes his stake worth approximately $12 billion.

There is even an argument that should this miraculous endowment appear if it should be spent on African American men ages 18-40 or if it should be focused on African American boys where you could provide supplemental education and academic investment at a far earlier age where you would need to spend a fraction of the $30,000 to get impactful long-term results. While there is a firm argument for this, my answer is resoundingly no. It should and would need to be spent on the 18-40 year old age group. The reason why is simple. African American Women need help now. The gap that has existed for sometime now has caused a crisis in the community with African American women being unable to find African American men that are suitable partners, the overweight responsibility of economic burden they carry, and much more. The closing of the gap is worth $7,700 in increased earnings per African American man who upgrades from a high school diploma to an Associate’s degree or $385 million annually if simply brought in balance with the number of Associate’s that African American Women earn.

The burning question of course is where we get $30 billion in assets from that can produce $1.5 billion annually (a 5 percent return). Unless someone is secretly hiding 300,000 bitcoins, they bought for $0.01 many years ago that are now worth $30 billion there may be no real solid answers. Time is of the essence so the notion that we are going to slow roll our way there as we do with most everything else financially is a nonstarter and just more of the same issues. Government funding is also almost certainly not an option given that regardless of political party very little has been done to rectify systemic issues that face African America. One party would like to give us nothing despite the fact that we pay into the tax system and the other party gives us symbolic and lip service. For context, there are only 5 university endowments that are greater than $30 billion.

In the end, the truth of the matter is this will not be solved by a single endowment or a single organization. However, $30 billion in a collective effort across multiple organizations coordinating with this goal may in fact be possible and pragmatic. With almost $2 trillion in buying power in theory the resources are there – sort of. Buying power can be very misleading because it does not actually speak to disposable income of the African American community. The money that is leftover after the bills are paid. Much of African America’s $2 trillion has very little leftover once you account for needs and necessities of African American households. This actually speaks quite a bit to African America’s buying power only account for almost 11 percent of America’s $18.5 trillion in buying power, but accounting for almost 14.5 percent of the American population. The $2 trillion should be closer to $2.7 trillion. That is $700 billion essentially “missing” from the African American households. Needless to say, it would a lot easier to find that $30 billion there.

A collective and strategic effort is necessary to bridge the Associate’s degree gap between African American men and women. While a $30 billion endowment seems daunting, the solution lies not in a single source of funding but rather in a coordinated approach involving multiple organizations, institutions, and innovative financial strategies. Leveraging partnerships with HBCUs, African American financial institutions, and philanthropic networks can help mobilize the resources needed to generate meaningful change. Furthermore, targeted outreach to influential individuals, businesses, and community leaders can catalyze fundraising efforts.

The focus must remain on providing African American men with the financial support necessary to pursue educational opportunities. By directly investing in their economic advancement, the ripple effect will extend beyond individuals to families and communities. The $385 million annual increase in earnings resulting from closing the Associate’s degree gap underscores the profound economic impact of this initiative. Equally important, this investment addresses the broader social and relational imbalances that have burdened African American women for decades.

Achieving this ambitious goal will require innovative thinking, sustained advocacy, and bold financial commitment. However, with collaboration and purpose, empowering African American men through education can yield lasting benefits for the entire community, fostering stability, opportunity, and generational wealth.