You Can't Build Freedom on Empty

Juneteenth, BRIC Fund, and the Real Cost of Community Change 

By LaDawn Sullivan

Every year around Juneteenth, I spend some time reflecting on freedom. Not just the historical significance of the day, though that matters deeply. I find myself thinking about what freedom actually requires to survive and grow.

Because while freedom is often discussed as an idea, a right, or a principle, history tells us it is also something much more practical.

Freedom requires resources.

It requires people, institutions, leadership, infrastructure, and investment. It requires communities with the capacity to organize, advocate, educate, heal, and build. In short, freedom requires more than good intentions and motivational quotes posted over beautiful stock photography.

As much as I appreciate an inspirational social media graphic, nobody has ever funded a movement with a Canva template. That reality feels particularly relevant right now.

Across the nonprofit sector, philanthropy, and community organizations, scarcity has become one of the most influential forces shaping decisions. Funding is tighter. Community needs are increasing. Economic uncertainty has many organizations operating with heightened caution. Leaders are being asked to solve larger problems with fewer resources while maintaining the same level of impact.

The nonprofit equivalent of being told to make Thanksgiving dinner with half a chicken, three potatoes, and "a little something you probably already have in the cabinet."

Now, if you are Black, you know exactly how dangerous that statement is. Because somehow Grandma will produce a feast that feeds 20 people and still send everyone home with leftovers. It is both a gift and a problem.

A gift because our communities have always known how to stretch resources. A problem because people start believing that stretching resources is the same thing as having enough.

It is not. And that distinction matters. There is a difference between being resourceful and being resourced.

Black communities have mastered resourcefulness. We have built businesses when banks said no. We have created mutual aid networks when institutions failed us. We have raised children, supported elders, organized neighborhoods, started nonprofits, and solved problems with determination, ingenuity, and sometimes a side-eye strong enough to move mountains.

But resourcefulness should not become an excuse for underinvestment. Yet too often, that is exactly what happens.

Historically, we have been told some version of "there isn't enough" for generations. Not enough capital, opportunity, or access. Not enough support or investment.

Yet somehow there always seems to be enough money for everything except the things that create long-term equity and community stability. Funny how that works.

The reality is that scarcity is often less about the amount of resources available and more about where people choose to direct them. That understanding is part of what inspired the creation of the Black Resilience in Colorado (BRIC) Fund.

When BRIC was founded on Juneteenth in 2020, it was rooted in a simple belief: Black communities do not lack talent, brilliance, leadership, creativity, or solutions. What they have often lacked is equitable access to resources that allow those strengths to flourish at scale.

There is a significant difference between helping communities survive and helping them thrive.

For far too long, many Black-led organizations have been expected to produce extraordinary results under extraordinary constraints. We celebrate their resilience—and we should—but sometimes I wonder if people have become a little too comfortable relying on Black resilience as a funding strategy.

Resilience is admirable.It should not be a budget model.

As a mother, I often think about how many times we tell our children, "I know you can figure it out." There is value in that lesson. It builds confidence and independence. But imagine if every time your child needed help, your response was simply, "You'll figure it out." Need lunch money? Figure it out. Need a ride? Figure it out. Need school supplies? Figure it out. At some point, confidence-building becomes neglect.

Likewise, telling nonprofit leaders to keep figuring it out while reducing resources is not empowerment. It is abandonment dressed up in professional language.

Since its launch on Juneteenth 202, BRIC has invested millions of dollars into Black-led and Black-serving organizations across Colorado. Through grants, leadership development, low-interest loans, coalition-building efforts, and capacity-building support, BRIC has focused on strengthening the infrastructure communities need to succeed.

Because contrary to popular belief, liberation work does not run on vibes. Movements require resources. Community impact requires resources. Leadership development requires resources. Organizational sustainability requires resources.

The history of social change makes this abundantly clear. When we study the Civil Rights Movement, we often remember the speeches, marches, and courageous acts of resistance. What receives far less attention are the logistical systems that made those moments possible. There were meeting spaces to secure, transportation to coordinate, legal challenges to fund, staff to support, and institutions to sustain.

History remembers the microphone. Somebody had to pay for the sound system. That same lesson applies today.

Organizations serving communities across Colorado are addressing housing instability, educational inequities, economic opportunity gaps, health disparities, and civic engagement challenges. They are responding to immediate needs while simultaneously working toward long-term systems change.

That work cannot be sustained through passion alone. Trust me. Passion is wonderful. Passion gets you started. Passion cannot pay rent. I have yet to meet a landlord who accepts dedication, mission alignment, and positive intentions in lieu of a check.

This is where abundance becomes important. When I talk about abundance, I am not suggesting we ignore financial realities or pretend challenges do not exist. I run a nonprofit. I have stared at enough spreadsheets to know that hope is not a line item and faith does not automatically balance the budget.

Abundance is not denial. It is a belief that investment creates possibility. That communities become stronger when they are resourced. That leaders perform better when they are supported. It is a belief that organizations can plan for growth instead of constantly managing crisis.

Most importantly, abundance recognizes that communities should not have to earn the right to thrive by proving how well they survive deprivation.

Juneteenth itself teaches us this lesson.

The story of freedom has never been simply about removing barriers. It has always been about creating conditions where people can build stable, prosperous, healthy lives. Freedom without opportunity remains incomplete. Freedom without investment remains vulnerable.

As BRIC celebrates another Juneteenth anniversary, I find myself thinking less about scarcity and more about our collective responsibility. What would happen if we funded our values as enthusiastically as we talk about them? If we invested in leadership before crises emerge? If we treated community organizations not as perpetual emergencies to manage, but as assets to strengthen?

The future depends on our answers. Strong Black communities are not accidents; they are built through intentional investment, trust, and commitment. It is time to choose possibility over fear, vision over limitation, and abundance over scarcity.

Liberation has always required courage, but it also requires the resources to sustain it. BRIC must ensure we have enough of both, rather than continuing to rely on the "miracles" of resourcefulness we've been forced to master for too long.

We must, and we will, build, BRIC by BRIC.