What Are Foundations?

Private Foundations are in effect limited in their ability to raise funds and engage a large population of stakeholders. This often prevents them from gaining broad public support, but also enables broad discretion with regard to funding strategy, choice of projects, and organizational mission. Foundations can embrace the opportunities afforded to them by their unique legal status and become change-agents to better understand the world, promote groundbreaking new ideas, and educate the public.

Under United States law, donations to private foundations are not tax deductible. This limits many fundraising options and all but ensures that the foundation will be funded by no more than a few donors (essentially the founders themselves.) A lack of broad public support can lead the public to mistrust foundations in general: one common misconception frequently heard is that foundations provide a tax shelter for the extremely wealthy. This limitation can often lead foundation managers to adopt an adversarial “us-and-them” attitude with the public. In order to boost their public image, foundations often make large, conspicuous donations to universities, museums, and the arts.

Since fundraising options for foundations are limited and/or nonexistent, a foundation must rely on its endowment to fund its annual operations. While a traditional nonprofit with a $20 million annual budget can fundraise to meet those costs, a foundation must tie up $400 million in a corpus to ensure ongoing annual operations of the same size. This represents a staggering financial constraint for a foundation with no steady stream of revenue.

While these laws can impose significant limitations on a foundation, they provide significant opportunities for a foundation willing to take risks. A lack of broad public support decreases the number of stakeholders, leaving the foundation basically autonomous. Unlike the PTA, where any tax-paying parent can attend a public meeting and feel entitled to demand concessions, a foundation has virtually no one to answer to. Since the mission, vision, and values represent the interests of a small, select group of empowered people, instead of a broad public audience, foundation managers can engage in innovative, risk-taking initiatives not yet embraced by the general public.

This autonomy allows a foundation to lead the way in establishing needed new innovations. Foundations can gather experts and resources needed to truly understand an issue; they can breathe life into groundbreaking new ideas and give them the resources and guidance they need to scale; they can also mount large community-education initiatives to help the public be more informed. In short, foundation managers are independent agents for world-changing innovation…if they choose to be.

Unfortunately, many foundations are locked into a stable, conventional strategy that focuses more on risk-avoidance than change-making. The prevalent “us-and-them” mentality promotes cynicism and even disdain for grant requestors. This leads to the creation of bureaucratic hoops, lengthy grant application forms, and an extremely slow turnaround for funding. If foundations entrench themselves in a slow, predictable routine, they lose the ability to respond to world events and become insular and reactionary.

In recent months, Bill Gates and Warren Buffett have convinced billionaires around the world to collectively pledge over one half-trillion dollars for philanthropic causes. This tide-shifting allocation of wealth, coupled with the explosive changes taking place in virtually every corner of the world serve as a call to action for grantmaking institutions. Grantmakers can choose to embrace the numerous opportunities for research, innovation, and education available to us to actively change the world for the better, or they can entrench themselves in a routine that preserves the status quo. I hope that in the coming years, all grantmaking institutions will continue to make changes to become more flexible, adventurous, and innovative.

The Hazards of Calling Yourself a "Philanthropist"

A wise man recently said "be thankful for all the praise, but don't inhale it."

There's a hazard in being a philanthropist. When you hold the purse strings everyone treats you like a celebrity: every decision you make is so wise, and people are always worried about taking up your time. You can develop a complex often noted in famous people - they become manic, hypersensitive, and prone to tantrums. They're euphoric and a little blind. They're out of touch with what's going on. They think their opinions are laws.

Nobody is omniscient, and fame makes you even more narrow-minded to the needs of others. You need to get out and understand your community and all of the potential ways you can influence it. You should stay associated with people outside your field who can give constructive feedback. They'll help you come back down to earth. Kathy Bain was country director for World Bank Ghana. She decided to keep herself grounded by going out at least once a month and visiting as many projects as she could.

When human beings perceive how good or bad they are, they justify bad behavior based on a perception that they are riding on a moral high. For example, a study found that people who decided to buy an environmentally friendly product at a store were more prone to be rude or unethical after they left the store.

What a huge moral hazard! Philanthropists run a high risk of perceiving themselves as more ethical and virtuous than they actually are. This can cause them to engage in worse behavior than they normally would. When you're in a position of public trust, you have to recognize all of the gifts that enabled you to get where you are. You have a stewardship over the public funds sacrificed by others, intended for public good.

Signs your PC is on drugs

1 - When you close it at night, you can tell it's still on for some reason.
2 - When you open it in the morning, it's really slow to start up. It might even refuse
3 - The mouse doesn't track when you move it, but has a 10-second delay.
4 - At random times (esp. late at night) it consumes large amounts of battery power for no reason (i.e., "munchies")
5 - It starts hanging out in unsecured wireless networks.
6 - You start finding torrents on the hard drive.
7 - It can no longer multitask. When you alt+tab, the previous application freezes.
8 - ctrl+alt+del no longer works for minor problems. You take it in for serious professional help.
9 - All the names of your iTunes songs are suddenly replaced by scrambled Beatles lyrics (really happened)
10 - Your screen randomly changes to a ridiculously small resolution.
11 - It has trouble controlling the volume of its speakers.
12 - Every few months it has another complete meltdown, requiring a reformat.
13 - It refuses to run any application (not even Notepad) but video games work fine.
14 - You notice a weird "baked" smell emanating from the back.
15 - It starts arguing with itself. Symantec puts the latest Windows update in quarantine, so Windows downloads it 3,000 times.

The Long Journey Home

I'm alive. I'm also back in the states. I think that's a good thing, but I'm not sure yet.

The last two days were a trying ordeal. On Thursday morning I was laying on a bed in agony, not sure what I would do in 20 minutes when we checked out of the hotel. Last night we had planned on taking a taxi to Labadi Beach and locating a few surfboards, which would have been amazing. Now I just wanted to know how I would make it through the day without dying somewhere. My friends helped me pack my luggage and we slowly walked to the temple dorms where Marissa would be staying for the next few weeks to work on some projects.

I stumbled into the bedroom and crashed in a heap while everyone else went out for a day on the town. I had to decide how I would make it through two days in Amsterdam and two more days flying. Four days like this...I cried silently for a few minutes. Every shallow breath brought a stab of pain that made me gasp. The dull ache in my shoulder was a constant companion. And for some reason I was starting to feel that glowing itchiness that signaled oncoming hives.

After a few hurried, gasping conversations on the phone with Alisha we decided to pay the $250 fee to move up my flight and bypass Amsterdam. Now I just had to survive 24 hours in the air.

After a few hours everyone got back and we made our way to the airport. I shuffled in line with everyone else and prayed I would be able to sit down, as we braved the third-world equivalent of a ticket-desk queue. Gratefully, no one stopped us to tear apart our luggage or make us deal with customs--we were waved right through and made the plane without incident.

I was covered in hives and panting in pain. A few travelers gave me a wide berth. After we were in the air a flight attendant, probably concerned I was carrying some deadly contagion, politely asked me if I was healthy enough to make the connection. I said I wasn't contagious and had a doctor at home. He said they might have to ground the flight if I got any worse. I said "Where you gonna land everyone? The Sahara? I'm sure the facilities are great in Niger, but I need to get home." He gave me the card for an airport doctor in Amsterdam, said the visit would be covered, and gave me an extra bottle of water.

I found that if I sat in just the right position, with my head at 10 o'clock and pointed up, the pain lessened a little. I also wrapped myself in one of those little blue airline blankets so people wouldn't see the hives. Why couldn't they just dump me in the Sahara and be done with it?

We finally arrived in Amsterdam. The doctor wanted to charge me $50 but couldn't run any tests, so I politely declined. I said a sad goodbye to my friends, who would be staying in Amsterdam, and moped over to the next connection: Detroit. On the way I stopped by a restroom and happened upon a group of Algerian men wearing spotless Shalwar Kamees in the middle of wudu. They chatted pleasantly in their peculiar Arabic dialect while washing their feet in the sink--one of those funny little moments when you realize you're still surrounded by culture.

The flight to Detroit was a little better. The benadryl and ibuprofen started to kick in, and both the pain and itching lessened somewhat. I started to enter this numb, stiff, hypnotic state. I was exhausted, bored, and in pain, but was starting to forget all three. Time passed unnoticed as I stared at the seat in front of me and drifted in and out of shallow sleep. Seated next to me was a gangster kid from inner-city Detroit who had never flown before. He laughed hysterically at episodes of Sponge Bob before falling asleep to a rap album. After a few minutes he put his head on my shoulder and every once in awhile would elbow me in the ribs.

Hour after numb hour, I listened to the drone of the plane. Pain came and went in cycles, but gradually improved. My rash was mostly gone. The antibiotics must have done their job, because by the time I touched down in Salt Lake I was 80% better. I consider it a miracle (or a series of them) that I made it home.

This last month has changed my life forever. I will always be grateful for the experience, and can't put into words how it has affected me. Since Ghana I have felt a newfound drive to get out into the world and change it for the better. I think back often on that beautiful place halfway around the world, and its beautiful people, hoping to return someday soon.

Accra: Sick

Last night was our last in Ghana. We had a big party in one of the hotel rooms. At one point during a particularly exuberant drum solo by Ray, the hotel staff knocked on the door. They said that many of the other hotel visitors were very upset that we were playing drums. Turns out that for a week out of the year the Ga people outlaw drumming, in order to ensure a plentiful harvest. Reactions can even get violent if the ban is violated. So we ended the party and went to bed, making sure to be quiet and lock our doors.

Some of the girls had started to feel malaria symptoms. Nicole was achy and really cold, and Marissa started to feel the same. I had been feeling some back and abdominal pain since dinner, but I thought little of it, because cramps are common over here. I had also gone swimming that afternoon, and maybe I had pulled a few muscles or something. The pain started to get worse as the night progressed. I woke up at 2:00 am in excruciating pain. My right shoulder was throbbing, and every time I breathed in I would feel a stabbing pain in my side. My abdomen was also aching, and it started to spread to my neck. I was taking quick, shallow breaths and moaning every time I had to move. Pretty soon I started to feel chills and was drenched in sweat.

I lay in agony for hours, drifting in and out of shallow bouts of sleep. When 6:00 AM finally came around we called a nearby doctor. He said that it was not malaria, since I didn't have a splitting headache, and that I should just tough it out until I get back into the states.

I'm miserable: stuck in Africa, immobilized in bed, with hotel checkout in a few hours. I have no idea how I will make it through the day--I can barely move. We're going to the airport this evening and flying all night to Amsterdam. After a night there we'll fly back to Salt Lake. I don't know what to do.

I did some digging around online, and there's a strong likelihood that I have amoebic pleurisy. Amoebas are common parasites that live in the water here. You can even get them from eating stalky vegetables like lettuce. The amoebas can inflame the lining of your lungs, causing pleurisy. Symptoms are excruciating pain when breathing, dull shoulder and abdomen pain, chills, and sweating. The pain can lessen when you lay on your side or apply pressure to your rib cage. For some reason I have that Piggies song from the White Album in my head, and I know that's a symptom as well. It's really starting to get me down.

I just took four Artrin for malaria, two albendazole for worms, and four secnidazole for amoebas. If that doesn't knock it out, I don't know what will. Let's just pray that I can breathe and move around by the time we check out of the hotel.

What Not to Bring to Ghana

I put a lot of thought into my packing for this trip. Turns out I may have been a little too prepared, but that's much better than being underprepared.

mosquito net: everywhere we went was either enclosed, or provided with a mosquito net. Even the huts we stayed in had them.
Tang packets: I had so much Fanta and Coke everywhere that water was a relief. I definitely didn't need additional sources of sugar water.
Spam: still disgusting, even in Africa. You can throw a rock in any direction and hit a chop bar. You don't need Spam.
6 changes of underwear: I did all of my laundry in the sink, two or three items at a time every night. There's no need to lug around so much clothing.
iodine pills: You can buy water almost anywhere. For our four-day trip to the bush we packed in enough bagged water for a few days.
Deet wipes: I'm kinda reckless, but I didn't use the deet. It burned my skin and didn't work anyway. It also leaked out and made an ugly brown stain on my bag.
Laundry Detergent sheets: a nifty invention, but didn't work as well as plain old bar soap.
camp towel: you have towels at the hotel, and out in the bush it feels good to be a little damp. Besides, who knows what kind of bacteria grow in that thing.
Step-down: it burned up the second day of the trip. All I needed was the adapter, since my laptop and battery charger handle 220 volts just fine.

I brought way too much clothing. Here is what I actually wore on the trip:

four shirts - I bought two of them on the trip.
jeans - wear in the evening when the mosquitos are out
slacks - for church and meetings at embassy/ngo's, etc.
khaki shorts - one pair is enough. You wear them most days
old black loafers
sandals - didn't need tennis shoes.
3 changes of underwear
2 pair black socks - you could get away with one
1 tie
1 white shirt

Foods of Ghana

Once you get used to the mechanics of swallowing balls of starch whole, the food of Ghana is quite enjoyable. In most restaurants you can buy rice and either chicken or fish, but if you have a more traditional meal you might not know how to proceed.

Ghanaians typically prepare some kind of starch, usually either corn or cassava, which they eat with a meat stew. You may or may not be provided utensils. If not, use your right hand (never your left) to pinch off a ball of the starchy stuff, dip it in the stew, and swallow it whole. You can pick at the larger meat chunks with your hand and eat them alone. That's the basic idea.

Fufu - pounded cassava. The "soft" preparation is pounded longer than the "hard" version, and is pretty sticky.

Banku - Cassava flour mixed with corn flour, and prepared like fufu.

Kenkey - Corn flour prepared like a mexican tamale, but fermented a little. It's kind of an acquired taste. I enjoy it, but prefer young kenkey, as its texture is softer and the flavor isn't as pronounced.

The stew is usually made with tomatoes, onions, palm seeds, and Ghanaian peppers (they look like habaneros, but are much milder), with whatever meat is available.

There is also a dish made with black-eyed peas, that tastes Indian. Ghanaians do use Indian-style curry in some of their dishes.

Most restaurant meals include fried plantains. They are like heavier, starchier orange bananas, and they are delicious. I would recommend cooking them in the states. You can buy them at any hispanic grocery store.

Ghanaians eat a lot of fruit: white or yellow pineapple, mango, watermelon, papaya, and bananas are the most common things I've seen. Vegetables are another story--you normally have to go to a nice hotel to get even a salad, and they aren't very good. Vegetables are expensive and can contain parasites in their stalks.

There is a very cheap ice cream called Fanice, that you can buy on any street corner. It's about 40 pesewas (26 cents), and it comes in a little plastic wrapper kind of like Gogurt. I like the vanilla best, but the chocolate is good also.