Broad labels erase community diversity
Foundations love efficiency: one framework, one set of outcomes, all framed in one neat category on the dashboard. Nowhere is that more obvious, and generally more damaging, than in how many of them treat “minority” as a one-size-fits-all label. Worse, in trying to be “diverse,” they actually deny diversity.
Black, Latino, Native, Asian American, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, and multiracial communities are irrationally bundled into one word: “minority.” Or, if they are feeling modern, “BIPOC.” It sounds inclusive. It is anything but.
Once communities are stuffed into a single bucket, all the differences that matter for real solutions get sanded off. Hispanic communities, for example, share some experiences with other groups, but you cannot design serious strategy without acknowledging what is unique.
What a generic category misses
- Language dynamics, from bilingual households to Spanish-dominant elders
- Immigration status and mixed-status families, with all the fear and barriers that brings
- Distinct histories: Puerto Ricans as U.S. citizens from a colonized territory, Mexican-origin communities with deep roots in the Southwest, and recent Central American migrants fleeing violence
- Regional concentration: a “Latino strategy” in the Midwest looks very different from one in Florida, Texas, or Puerto Rico
When a foundation calls all of that “minority communities,” two things happen. First, the grant strategy tends to default to whatever narrative is most familiar to people in power, and that is often not a Latino narrative. Second, the data gets averaged, which is the opposite of diversity. Results are reported at the “BIPOC” or “people of color” level, so Latino gains or losses disappear inside a blended number.
If your data can’t find you, their dollars won’t either.
Build precision into your materials
Start with your own house. In every document, from your website and one-pagers to your proposals, name your community precisely and consistently. Do not just say you serve “diverse populations.” Say you serve “Latino day laborers in X city,” “Spanish-speaking families in Y rural area,” or “Puerto Rican youth aging out of foster care.” Make it impossible for anyone to mistake who you are about.
Next, ask funders to disaggregate their data. On a call or in a proposal, you might write:
- “We understand this initiative focuses on ‘communities of color.’ Will you be tracking Latino-specific participation and outcomes, given the demographics of this region?
- “Our service area is 60% Latino. Can your reporting system break out results by ethnicity so we can see whether Latino residents are benefiting equitably?”
You are not just chasing a bigger slice of the pie; you are insisting on visibility. Nuanced data is the only way to know whether “equity” is happening or merely being claimed.
Push together and offer solutions
Third, do not push alone. Connect with other Latino-serving organizations in your city, state, or issue area. Compare notes. Bring shared data to funders: “Across our organizations, we’re seeing consistent gaps in how Latino communities are reached and funded. Here are the numbers. Here are some portfolio changes that would make a real difference.” Many program officers are overworked and under-informed; you can educate them together.
Finally, be ready with alternatives. It is not enough to say, “Your categories are bad.” Offer better ones: suggest separate Latino lines in RFPs, region-specific strategies, language-access budgets, and targets for Latino-led grantees. The more concrete your suggestions, the harder they are to ignore.
A community is not a checkbox
“Minority” may be a checkbox on someone’s form, but your community is not a checkbox. It is a mosaic of histories, languages, and struggles that deserve focused strategy, not a generic label that denies its diversity. Your job is to insist on that focus: relentlessly, specifically, and with data to back it up.