Method
This study
is an example of what the African American psychologist Kenneth
Clarke called involved observation. (43) In his study of a social
action agency in Harlem, New York, he played two roles simultaneously,
executive director and researcher. He recruited another social
scientist to help him debrief and escape the blinders of his
own subjectivity. This is very different from the detachment
required of participant observation.
The two
authors of this paper are volunteers and board members at the
center, involved in planning and implementing programs. We have
used our two viewpoints to triangulate towards objectivity.
We have also discussed this analysis with staff, volunteers,
and other board members.
In addition,
we made use of the center's archives, benefiting from cooperation
with the center as a whole. The archives include 18 linear feet
of papers in files and binders and a number of electronic documents.
Part of our work was assembling and inventorying this material
for the center: minutes and handouts from board and staff meetings,
financial records, day-to-day program records, and program plans
and reports. It is testimony to the care taken from the beginning
days of the center that staff preserved these records. We also
conducted interviews with key participants. In turn, we discussed
research findings with board members, staff and volunteers,
whose input only helped improve the study.
Historical
Narrative
The object
of our case study is the W. J. Murchison Community Center, a
center which today carries out tutoring, community gardening,
support for other community groups, and most of all computer
classes and open computer time. The center has 17 PCs and is
located at street level on a smaller arterial street in African
American central Toledo, Ohio. The community garden is one block
away, across from Martin Luther King Jr. Elementary School.
Half of the computers are networked to the Internet. An average
of 200 people use the center each month, and more than 170 have
user IDs for which they paid $5 annually, $10 for families.
According
to the 1990 U.S. census, 70% of households in the surrounding
area live at or near federal poverty levels and 70% are female
headed. Ninety-seven percent of residents are African-American.
The area has lost population over the last 40 years. Many of
the mostly wood houses, built around the turn of the century,
are boarded up. The city has also torn down abandoned houses.
Inhabited houses may be broken down or freshly painted and carefully
maintained. Yards may be overgrown with weeds or rich with flowers
and trimmed hedges. The community is also dotted with vegetable
gardens with greens, tomatoes, and an occasional stand of corn.
Nine churches
are located within one half mile, more beyond that radius. These
churches serve both community residents and people who live
in the generally more affluent and newer African-American communities
to the west, many of them with ties to the old community. Hair
salons, little stores selling candy, soda, junk food, and beer,
and "big box" auto parts stores dominate the local
economy. McDonalds is the morning coffee spot for older men
in and from the community. The absence of a grocery store has
been a political issue for some time.
Interstate
75, a major highway linking the southern and northern United
States, slices the Toledo Museum of Art away from the community.
The museum's programs, for instance, art class scholarships,
are not publicized in the area, although the founder Edward
Drummond Libbey, a local glass magnate, stipulated that admission
to the museum was to remain always free, and built a wing that
has long housed art classes for the general public, classes
which many older white Toledoans remember fondly.
In 1998,
in a well-publicized move against drug dealing, Toledo's mayor
declared martial law on a side street next to the center. The
police moved in and set up guard stations limiting people's
access to their homes and preventing guests from visiting. This
prompted a brief debate. After a few months the city removed
the concrete barriers and martial law was lifted. In 2000, the
federal government allocated over $4 million to gentrify part
of the area, continuing a nationwide pattern of de-population
preliminary to a (real or promised) return of the middle class
to the central city.
Stage
One: Church
Bishop W.
J. Murchison is pastor of nearby St. James Baptist Church, which
he founded in 1967. A retired construction worker and contractor
originally from Georgia, he and his wife Sister Dorothy Murchison
live six blocks away from the center. She sings and has for
many years directed St. James's youth choir as well as a citywide
fellowship choir. She is also known for her grassroots fundraising:
gospel concerts, banquets, and especially her "brownies"
funds (pennies).
In 1992
crack cocaine swept through the area, snatching up many vulnerable
individuals of all ages and settling into buildings that became
crack houses. Residents saw people lose their cars, even their
houses, after falling prey to crack. For Bishop, who had always
emphasized the church's ministry to youth, this recalled Ecclesiastes
3:1-8, especially "A time to plant, and a time to pluck
up." He experienced a vision, which was to found a community
center. As he puts it, "We were about to lose a generation."
With crack
tearing through the families of his own congregation, it was
natural to draw together a group of church members to implement
his vision. His own niece Deborah Hamilton, saved since her
late 20s, was among the group. Bishop also recruited a younger
minister Dr. C. E. Reese to administer the effort. Remembering
the early days of the center, Sister Murchison references another
bible verse, Proverbs 18:29: "Without a vision, the people
perish."
In 1993,
partly because drug treatment agencies had already set up nearby,
the group decided to focus on prevention—agreeing in one
early handout, "If the mind is replete with substance of
the positive nature, then the need for further stimulus becomes
a moot point." Dr. Reese outlined the center's original
vision statement: "Awareness ... Education ... Outreach."
The center's programs got underway in the basement of St. James
Baptist Church.
Programs
consisted of counseling, job preparation, and computer skill
training. By 1994, there were two donated Wang word processors.
When both computers were in use, participants practiced key
stroking on spare and unconnected keyboards. In the eyes of
Mrs. Hamilton, this was driven by their hunger for education
and advancement.
In 1994
Dr. Reese left Toledo, and the board asked Deborah Hamilton
to become the executive director. Members recall four reasons:
She had a college degree, she knew how to use computers, she
had served as secretary of the board, and she was a staunch
member of the church.
Guided by
Mrs. Hamilton's self-study on organizational development, the
board became a fundraising committee. They obtained non-profit
status in March 1994, thus moving from under the umbrella of
the church to being a distinct organization. In the tradition
of the Black church, a series of projects kept bringing money
in, several hundred dollars at a time, and the organization
always had close to $2,000 saved up. An effort to recruit a
grant writer began, and in early 1995 grant writer Ms. Goletha
D. C. K. Chestnut volunteered to work with Mrs. Hamilton on
two grant proposals for public funding. The first of these was
to the Ohio Department of Alcohol and Drug Addiction Services
(ADAS) and the second was to the Community Development Block
Grant (CDBG) program via the City of Toledo.
By February
1995, the board was so encouraged by the programs and the fundraising
that when Bishop suggested for a second time that for $150 the
center could rent part of a small building he built and owned
on Lawrence Street, they agreed. Moving out of the church was
a marker of the start of a second stage in the life of the Murchison
Community Center.
Stage
Two: State
Although
it was rejected, the ADAS grant submission, done in communication
with the responsible government agency, was a learning experience
for the center, as was the successful CDBG grant. What the center
began to learn was how to jump through the hoops set by the
government bureaucracy. Once the funding started to flow—$44,000
in 1996, $25,000 in each of 1997, 1998, and 1999—it dwarfed
the funds raised through the social networks of the board members,
i.e. church members, and defined the terms under which the center
operated for the next stage of its life.
For example,
the mission statement of the center made no reference to the
original vision statement, and was developed by Mrs. Hamilton
and Ms. Chestnut with the aim of fitting the requirements of
the grant application process. Within a year Ms. Chestnut joined
the staff of the City of Toledo Department of Neighborhoods
and was assigned for some time as the CDBG liaison to the center.
Since then, she has continued to look out for the interest of
the center and provide valued unofficial advice.
CDBG is
a program established in the 1980s when so many 1960s Great
Society federal funding streams to impoverished communities
were cut off. In their place, President Reagan and Congress
directed a much smaller amount of funds through the Department
of Housing and Urban Development to be doled out by city and
county authorities according to federal guidelines. Thus CDBG
provided federal funds, but local officials directed the flow.
Another
example of an external authority setting the agenda for the
center came when Mrs. Hamilton and a few others were working
into the wee hours one night on another government grant proposal.
They were stumped when it came to writing a needs statement,
and read the suggestion "conduct a needs assessment of
your community such as by means of a survey." They had
never surveyed the community. The grant process used the same
language of "needs assessment," so the idea of conducting
a survey took hold.
In fact,
most of them had been raised or had raised their own children
in the community, but the exercise of a survey captured the
attention of the center for several months. The board settled
on 12 questions and eventually 116 surveys were gathered. It
is not clear what use was made of the information, gathered
in response to external bureaucracies rather than as an outgrowth
of the center itself. Echoing the critique of John Kretzmann
and John McKnight, the questions themselves portray the community
as a collection of needs rather than a collection of resources
that can be mobilized. (44)
When the
local CBDG office reviewed the center's 1996 proposal, it recommended
that the center partner with a startup Community Development
Corporation. CDCs were again a product of the 1980s, which saw
an epidemic of homelessness. By the 1990's in Toledo, the city
had assigned most inner city districts to various CDCs and the
CDCs were taking the lion's share of CDBG funding. This money
subsidized them in building and occasionally renovating small
numbers of inexpensive housing, and then selling them with great
fanfare.
The Murchison
Center neighborhood had been mostly left out of the gold rush.
Roosevelt Revitalization and Development Corporation and the
center were to partner and submit one proposal for 1996. This
process again took attention away from the grassroots fundraising
that the board had been focusing on, but the joint proposal
led by the center was funded and stage two was really underway.
Because
Murchison's governance was well established and programs were
already underway relative to their partner, Ms. Chestnut, representing
CDBG, recommended that the two organizations not collaborate
financially after all. Roosevelt would go back to the drawing
board. A new term, leverage, came to the board as Ms. Chestnut
explained why the city had funded the center. The funds ($44,000)
were to be used to leverage other dollars, so that the center
would not remain 90% CDBG-funded. The city, the board learned,
had funded the center 1) as part of the now-suspended Roosevelt
partnership 2) as a fresh effort in census tracts 25 and 26
(which no doubt covered a CDBG gap) and 3) because the grant
focused on job development.
Not only
did the CDBG office recommend policy directions, but they required
a complex of procurement, personnel, program and financial policies,
procedures and reporting that the center had to master. One
of the most onerous was the process of reimbursement. The monthly
activity reports were to include every document produced that
month plus a quantitative and descriptive report on each area
of program activity. These reports were required before a monthly
check was sent. Then each expenditure had to be documented,
every check copied, and together submitted monthly to CDBG.
Several weeks later a check would arrive for all approved expenses.
Disputed or incompletely documented expenses would be delayed
one month or more. In order to provide service the center had
to obtain a line of credit, which they did, with the personal
assurance of Bishop Murchison and his construction business
track record.
Financial
administration became particularly difficult given that the
payroll and all bookkeeping was being done by a personal contact
of St. James, an older gentleman who was in bad health for more
than a year, making any change a sensitive matter. By October
1998 the indebtedness ballooned to more than $11,000.
As a result
of the reporting requirements, programs were documented like
never before, and a monthly number, reflecting the number of
people participating in center programs, was reported. The total
number hovered around 55 per month during 1997-1998.
As soon
as the first CDBG grant began, three new board members were
elected and an assistant director and program coordinators,
all working part time, were hired. The terms of the grant did
not allow for a full time salary for Mrs. Hamilton, so she continued
to work a full time day job and volunteer her time to the center,
taking occasional payments that just about equaled her travel
and incidental expenses. The new individuals were either not
members of St. James or were more loosely tied to the church;
the staff members, only one from St. James, worked during the
day or after school hours rather than in the evening when the
board met, so the close personal ties that the board had used
to keep the center together began to loosen.
The role
of the board changed during this time. What had been an active
fundraising committee became a bureaucratic group that approved
policies and financial reports without taking action on such
things as the indebtedness. Meetings were held almost weekly
over 1995 and early 1996; then monthly meetings became the norm.
Near-perfect board meeting attendance also became a thing of
the past. The 1997 strategic plan, for instance, was the result
of just four of 12 board members attending a session with a
paid consultant and a representative from the city's plan commission.
These two people wrote up the strategic plan.
Accompanying
this shift, staff rather than volunteers carried out programming
during this time. For example, a children's program that started
out with arts and crafts with one volunteer followed by a rap
session with another, Mr. Hamilton, was converted into that
same volunteer doing arts and crafts as paid staff, with various
"guest speakers" following the arts and crafts. With
the program carried out as a job rather than a church youth
mission, speakers were often absent, and the effect on the kids
was not nearly as powerful, because there were fewer ongoing
relationships with adults apart from the arts and crafts leader.
Eventually the program was arts and crafts only, with the modest
supplies and skills of the staff member, who worked days as
a security guard.
Computer
classes continued over the years, with different projects to
buy or get machines donated. The board investigated but then
declined to pursue a 1996 opportunity to apply for $80,000 from
another CDC to build a computer lab. The reason noted in the
board's minutes was "not enough room;" the grant was
in fact more complex and with more stipulations than the board
or staff was comfortable with. That same night the board adopted
a slogan for the center: "Knowledge is Power." It
is a curious reflection of the balance of power in the organization:
the cautiousness of staff and the determination of the St. James
members. Donated computers were obtained in lieu of the $80,000
(peripherals from the local MidAm Bank and four PCs from Owens
Corning Corporation) and the organization connected with a more
gradual citywide effort to bring computers into the community
known as CATNeT. More >>