Historic exclusion stings harder when it shows up in philanthropic circles. On paper, these groups sound like the answer to our prayers. In reality, my ears ring and my cheeks warm up as I have to grin and bear one insult after the next - delivering succinct pitch competition performances only to have rules change; donors in predominantly white spaces referring to me as homegirl; potential donors wondering aloud if I would waste their money; paying my dues in exchange for years of extraction and exploitation with little reward; being labeled difficult by organizations when I rejected the exploitation.

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