Cameron Whitten knows firsthand about the lack of resources and structural support for Black Portlanders. Whitten, now 29, was homeless in Portland as a young adult and had to rely on community and hard work to get out of it.
With a May 31 Facebook post amid a global outcry in response to the police killing of George Floyd, Whitten started a local movement to address systemic racism and disenfranchisement.
The Black Resilience Fund has now raised more than $1.15 million and distributed more than $374,000 to more than 1,000 Black Portlanders, typically in $300 increments. Because of the money, people have been able to pay bills, feed their families and pay their rent.
At this point, requests for assistance have outpaced the donations and growth of volunteers in the fund. The hashtag, #WeDoHeal, has become the rallying cry often accompanying posts on social media.
Whitten, a graduate student at Willamette University in business administration, saw a hole in the support for Black Portlanders as they healed from seeing yet another Black person killed by police in the United States. Whitten is no stranger to activism or the terrors of police violence, having traveled in a caravan with other Black Portlanders to Ferguson, Missouri, after the police killing of Michael Brown in 2014.
Whitten was also an activist with Occupy Portland, a former executive director of the Q Center in Portland and the founder of Brown Hope, a nonprofit that focuses on racial justice. Whitten uses all gender pronouns.
Whitten said they were flooded with messages from white friends and neighbors checking in on them after the news — and footage — of Floyd’s death began to circulate widely across the internet.
“I was not in need of immediate support, but I knew a lot of Black people that did,” Whitten said. “I saw this as an opportunity to take care of some of my Black friends and I went on Facebook and wrote a very quick post.”
The emotional post focused on a need for healing and action. Whitten offered to assist Black people with groceries and bills and asked non-Black followers to donate. Whitten said they would donate $5 to the Portland NAACP for every person they were able to help meet a need.
What ensued was Whitten sitting at their kitchen table for 11 hours fielding requests for assistance, taking in donations and helping Black Portlanders pay their bills. Whitten raised $11,000 that day, and was able to disburse $8,500 to people who asked for help. It became clear to Whitten that there was an opportunity to make a lasting impact — and they needed some help to make it happen.
The next day, June 1, Whitten teamed up with Salome Chimuku, to formally launch the Black Resilience Fund in the form of a crowdfunding campaign. Chimuku had worked in the past with state legislators, the Urban League of Portland and Unite Oregon, among other organizations. The Black Resilience Fund is in the process of becoming a recognized 501(c)(3) nonprofit under Brown Hope.
The fund had raised $55,000 by the end of the day June 1, beating the initial goal by $40,000.
Within one week, the fund brought in $316,000 and connected Black Portlanders with community members who could help with anything from lawn work, to picking up prescriptions, to making house repairs. People who identify as Black, African American or African and live in the Portland area can all apply online for funding.
As the fund grew past $1 million, so did the public profile.
Within five weeks, leaders of the group, including Whitten and Chimuku, were meeting with U.S. Sen. Ron Wyden to discuss success stories of the fund and express much work still needs to be done.
To receive a grant, people apply online before doing a 15-minute interview with a volunteer. The review process can now take four weeks or more because of the backlog that volunteers face. After applicants are approved, they receive money in two to three days.
The organization has made transparency a priority by providing regular updates on its website, as well as various social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter. The fund’s website is updated regularly with a list of the types of requests that are fulfilled and how much money goes toward those requests.
“We’re not just providing financial relief,” Whitten said. “We are actually saying that Black lives matter, and their needs matter, too.”
What the Black Resilience Fund represents to those involved is more than an emergency source for funds or an outlet for mutual aid, Whitten said. It serves as a mechanism to build community in a city where Black Portlanders have been repeatedly displaced for decades by gentrification.
Whitten was quick to say the achievements of the fund couldn’t have been accomplished by just one person, nor can the future goals of the organization. Whitten has been working with Chimuku to ensure the organization becomes sustainable and eventually can cover some pay to people who have donated so much of their time.
More than 12,000 donors have given to the fund, and hundreds of volunteers have flocked to the organization.
Bonnie Johnson of Portland is one of those volunteers. Johnson’s connection to the fund began in mid-June when she applied for money to repair a broken shower in her house. Within a few days, a check was being dropped off at her house. The following day, she contacted the fund about volunteering.
Johnson has long been involved in community causes in Portland, having gained the nickname “The Pancake Lady,” for her frequent appearances at the senior pancake breakfast sponsored by former Multnomah County Commissioner Loretta Smith.
Johnson spent nearly three decades working in social services. In all her years, Johnson has never seen anything like the Black Resilience Fund.
“I’ve been here my whole life,” Johnson said. “I’m now 62, and I think this is one of the biggest projects that I’ve seen that has helped the Black community.”
Johnson and Whitten said an important element of the fund is that it is operated by Black Portlanders, for Black Portlanders. All too often, Whitten said, the needs of Black people are left to be addressed by the decisions of white people. There is a fundamental difference when everyone an applicant interacts with is Black.
The group places an emphasis on challenging the stigma of needing help, combating shame and challenging the isolation created by systemic racism.
Johnson, a certified drug and alcohol counselor, said the lack of red tape, paperwork and bureaucratic labyrinths has allowed people who want to give help, and people who need to receive help, to quickly act.
As volunteers work through a backlog of applications numbering in the thousands, Johnson said what the fund has already accomplished is remarkable.
“This is more than just helping,” Johnson said. “This is like a movement to me.”
Johnson delivers checks to recipients because she enjoys interacting with the public so much, but she said there is room for everyone to get involved and put their skills to work.
Ezell Watson, a community engagement specialist for Portland Public Schools, needed help when his family was stricken by tragedy in June. Watson’s father, who lives in Atlanta, had a stroke.
Watson couldn’t fly to Atlanta because of the risk of contracting the coronavirus and the concerns for his father’s health, so he decided to drive. But covering the cost of the trip was difficult. Watson had experienced a loss of wages because of a furlough at Portland Public Schools and needed some assistance. He applied for money to cover his car insurance.
Whitten reached out to Watson personally to check on him and let him know Watson’s request would be granted. The generosity and timeliness of the assistance had a profound impact on Watson.
“A weight had been lifted,” Watson said. “I felt content and like I had found my inner strength.”
Watson, a native of Birmingham, Alabama, began volunteering with the Black Resilience Fund after he returned to Portland. Watson does intake and interviews for applicants. His past experience as a school social worker has helped him to assist applicants with things such as unemployment applications, an example of the flexibility the fund has offered both volunteers and applicants.
He described his experience with the fund as “transformative.”
“Every experience I’ve had with the Black Resilience Fund has enhanced my life,” Watson said.
Note: This story has been updated to clarify a quote from Cameron Whitten due to a transcription error. Whitten said “their needs matter, too.”
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