When COVID descended upon schools two things occurred: one, those parents did not know what to do and the sudden outpouring of respect for teachers was unprecedented.1 Two, maybe it takes a pandemic to turn this behemoth of an education ship around and do something new. A whole wide opportunity cracked open with that mid-March shutdown and subsequent shifts in how we looked everything from teaching techniques to what real learning is, to the (un)importance of grades and busywork/homework, to the actual lived experience of our students at home when we sometimes glimpsed it through a zoom screen.
But as we quickly learned, neither of these optimistic moments had lasting power. Parents and some administrators turned on teachers even more vigorously than pre-COVID, particularly the next fall, when everyone was sick of home and tired of each other and just wished for normalcy. And as part of this desire for familiarity, schools went back to operating exactly how they’d done in February 2020. The more quickly, the better.
2025: With the cancelation of millions of dollars in federal everything and firing of people and ripple-effect laying off of other people, I sense another opportunity for change. NOT THAT I AM IN FAVOR OF canceling federal contracts, promises, treaties, etc. Of course I am not. Humanities Montana has essentially collapsed following the cancelation of the federal funding for the National Endowment for the Humanities. I believe every program in Montana was canceled unless the speaker chose to persist with it at his or her own loss/cost/peril/whatever. Human beings long employed by these organizations are losing their jobs. These are tragedies.
Given where we are, I cannot help but think perhaps another, better way, might present itself, just as late spring 2020 did for education.
About a zillion family foundations are floating around out there. Try reading Billionaire Wilderness if you want a gross look at them, but I have had the good fortune to meet some of their leaders since Chickadee launched two years ago and those I’ve met are wonderful people. Additionally, many philanthropies pool funds and create even larger granting resources for programming like what Chickadee does. Private foundations only have to distribute about 5% of their endowment, however, meaning they can capitalize the rest in other ways. Is now the time for them to rethink their giving strategies? Maybe retaining 95% isn’t the best approach in terms of benefit to communities. Charlotte Martin Foundation has announced such a shift and is planning to give more cash this year, and give it to more recipients, in the fallout from the federal debacle. What if many more charitable foundations went that direction?
Besides foundations, plenty of semi-wealthy or wealthy individuals also exist out there. I have seen their donations in Chickadee’s paypal ledger, and I am beyond grateful for those. Now’s the time, perhaps, for more people to share a little more of that.
Money isn’t the only way to change this landscape. We can reorganize ourselves in new ways. For example, Humanities Montana for years has offered a “Speakers in the Schools” program to support folks presenting in classrooms. Pending board approval, Chickadee hopes to initiate a service to connect Indigenous presenters to school districts seeking to contract with them, and offer organization and paperwork supports to both parties. The need for a service like this has long existed, and now is the time to address it.
Could foundations reorganize so as to not overlap each other, and also not leave gaps where some needs are left unmet? Is there a geographic or topical approach that would work? People don’t want to be told how to spend their money, I know this. But my guess is their stronger urge is to spend it wisely for the right things. It’s worth considering new ideas.

Could this backfire, in that by funding and planning our own arts and community-enriching activities, government agencies could then justify never again offering support? Sure. But also, that means others have no control over these activities, OUR activities. My sense, after the gutting of arts, humanities, and education support these past few weeks, is that it’s better for The People to hang onto those purse strings anyway.
My comments are not intended to goad readers into opening their wallets. I’m just thinking…if our broader government doesn’t mind crippling our communities by revoking support for humanities, education, the arts — the things that help us be, become, and remain human — are we going to let that happen? Or will we unite, as individuals and families and charitable foundations, to counteract this assault on American sensibilities by pulling out our checkbooks2 in these most perilous times to support what’s meaningful in our communities?
This ship does not have to drift, powerless and unanchored. It does not need to founder, when so much buoyancy exists. Let us pull together, draw our own map, and power ourselves in the direction we want to go.
and I felt lucky, lucky, lucky that I was already a teacher of high schoolers with two of them trapped in my own house
or aiming our phones at a Venmo QR code…it just doesn’t have the same ring to it even if the only people writing checks these days are over 50
So many people are losing their minds over what appears to be the loss of important elements of our society. We can absolutely do nothing, complain more, and remain dissatisfied. I like your idea much better.
I love this! Community building is a important aspect of education. Some recent experiences with our elder community group has lead to unexpected positive outcome. But it all came from the desire to leave a positive example for those who will come behind us. We started with not even enough elders for a quorum to now we do not have enough parking and our tables are full. We desired no matter what we had to do it. It was an important tenant of our community. We have to cook our own meals and do our own dishes, found other funding sources but in doing so we found each other.