Philanthropy and the third sector are fundamental in mitigating social inequalities in Brazil, generating billions of reais and employing millions of people. According to a recent study, “the non-profit sector represents 3.93% of national production (equivalent to R$402.4 billion), 4.27% of GDP (equivalent to R$220.1 billion).
However, this sector, which purports to fight injustice, reproduces in its structure dynamics of exclusion that mainly affect black women. Although they are on the frontline of community assistance, their work is often invisible and unpaid, perpetuating their living conditions' precariousness and the continuity of systemic inequalities.
The solidarity networks built by black women throughout history are the backbone of countless vulnerable communities. These networks guarantee education, health, food, housing, leisure, culture, basic assistance, and rights for themselves and their loved ones.
However, we have a challenge when these activities are widely naturalized and seen as a moral duty, not as legitimate work that deserves recognition and remuneration. According to a new report by the Agbara Fund, nine out of ten black women volunteer in grassroots and territorial organizations, raising an average of up to R$5,000 a year, with 29% of them raising up to R$500. This mobilization usually occurs through self-management, using resources from their pockets, selling raffle tickets, bazaars, bingos, and other social innovations that reflect a logic of solidarity and a culture of giving.
A crucial point to highlight is that, by normalizing the idea that volunteer work should be an intrinsic part of black women's lives, as it is confused with mere care work, society often contributes to deeper inequality. This phenomenon becomes invisible to many, who see volunteering as a positive activity without recognizing the different realities shaping this participation. While voluntary work is undoubtedly an expression of solidarity and a fundamental pillar in all communities - regardless of social class or ethnicity - the weight and clout of this activity varies enormously.
Middle or upper-class white women can devote their time to volunteering as an altruistic choice, without their basic needs being at stake, since they have a guaranteed livelihood and can put in double shifts. On the other hand, expecting black women to take on voluntary roles often ignores the fact that they do so in a context of need, of the struggle for survival, where carrying out such activities can mean sacrificing their time and resources that could be used to look after their own families, putting them through five times as much work.
The problem, therefore, lies in the lack of recognition of these inequalities and the normalization of volunteering as an obligation of a specific group. When this practice's different weight in different contexts is not recognized, we perpetuate a cycle of inequality that must be urgently addressed. Volunteer work should be valued and supported in all its forms. Still, it is essential that equity is examined and considers the circumstances, motivations, and realities that each group experiences.
Thus, by adequately remunerating the work of black women, often considered merely “care,” and redistributing resources so that they are part of the 6 million jobs generated by the third sector, there would be a significant opportunity not only to provide dignity but also to reduce their working hours from five to three. This change would result in substantial gains from the point of view of mental health and the mitigation of inequalities.
Thus, it is essential to clarify that we are not here to criticize volunteering but to question it: which bodies are recognized as volunteers, and which are paid for performing the same function? This distinction raises crucial questions about the costs associated with volunteering, especially for those often pushed into informality and invisibility.
Furthermore, even with the increase in volunteer engagement, according to the Agbara Fund research cited above, only 7% of philanthropic funds in Brazil go to organizations led by black people, and less than 10% of community initiatives led by black women manage to secure ongoing institutional funding. This data highlights a pattern of structural exclusion that keeps resources concentrated in large NGOs and traditionally white institutions. At the same time, peripheral collectives face difficulties in gaining recognition as legitimate agents of social transformation.
Consequently, the nonprofit sector, which employs approximately six million people in Brazil, reveals a situation in which many black women work in unpaid positions. This reality reflects a logic that reserves positions and fair wages for historically privileged groups, leaving black women on the margins in informal activities. A double process sustains this division: the devaluation of community work and the naturalization of care functions as a female responsibility. Thus, while white men occupy “strategic management” positions and receive fair salaries, black women do identical work under the label of “voluntary activism,” perpetuating cycles of marginalization and exclusion.
As researcher Vilma Reis points out, “conventional philanthropy operates in the same system that keeps black women on the margins, under the justification of vocation and activism”. This marginalization becomes even more evident when we observe that 89.2% of leaders in black organizations are cisgender women, many of whom combine community work with caring for their families and formal work activities. This overload makes it difficult for them to access basic rights such as rest, health, and professional development.
It is urgent to rethink the structure of philanthropy to ensure that the essential work carried out by black women is recognized and duly remunerated. This requires a review of the funding criteria adopted by foundations and large investors, ensuring that community collectives have access to resources without disproportionate bureaucratic obstacles. In addition, it is essential to create institutional mechanisms that provide decent working conditions for these leaders, combating precariousness and informality.
This reflection leads us to consider how a hierarchy of values determines who has access to dignity and the full guarantee of rights. While some people are paid for their work, enabling them to access quality health, food, and education, black women often work as volunteers or in informal initiatives. In this way, these women mostly embrace community work to guarantee the basics for themselves and their families, frequently sacrificing their own interests and needs for the sake of a brighter future for the next generation.
This scenario reveals a system that unequally values and remunerates the efforts of different social groups, reflecting the critique of Grada Kilomba's poem. When certain voices speak, their discourse is treated as scientific, universal, and neutral, while marginalized experiences and voices are seen as subjective and specific. When we look at the reality of black women working on community fronts, we realize that their struggle for dignity, visibility, and rights is often delegitimized, relegating them to informal roles where their contributions are made invisible.
Thus, this inequality is a question of lack of recognition and a violent hierarchy that shapes who can speak and what knowledge is valued. These women's experiences, full of wisdom and resistance, are fundamental to understanding the complexity of social relations.
The transformation of the third sector is not limited to an increase in the amount of resources going to black communities; it requires a profound change in how this work is perceived and valued. Without this structural revision, philanthropy will continue to reproduce the inequalities it claims to combat, perpetuating cycles of exclusion and marginalization. Therefore, recognizing the resistance of black women in community solidarity must be accompanied by concrete actions that guarantee their full inclusion in the third sector. Only in this way will it be possible to build a model of philanthropy that promotes social justice and equity.
Recognizing this dynamic is crucial to fostering a real dialogue that challenges these hierarchies and seeks equity in access to basic rights, valuing work, and building a fairer future for all.