Johnson is a United Methodist pastor, the author of "Holding Up Your Corner: Talking About Race in Your Community" (Abingdon Press, 2017) and vice president of the Bridge Alliance, which houses The Fulcrum.
In reflection on a forthcoming manuscript, I revisited “From Generosity to Justice: A New Gospel of Wealth,” authored by Darren Walker. I felt affirmed to further the work of empathic transformation models for social and democratic uplift through emergent strategies. One such strategy in experimentation with community and private foundations is empathy-based philanthropy.
Empathy-based philanthropy focuses on understanding and connecting with the needs, emotions, and experiences of those supported. It prioritizes benevolence, active listening, and engaging with individuals or communities in need to create lasting change.
The strategic use of philanthropy as activism addresses systemic issues by fostering collaboration and empowering disadvantaged individuals. Philanthropy, if used effectively, can nurture civic engagement and communal responsibility, promoting inclusive democratic societies. Embracing empathy-driven philanthropy can lead to social cohesion, particularly benefiting vulnerable populations and BIPOC+ communities. By engaging with our local communities and exemplifying democratic values through compassion, generosity, and understanding, we can become agents of change toward collective uplift.
Generally, philanthropy, at its best, is a proactive exercise of giving in support and welfare to others, often grounded in moral or spiritual convictions. Activism conveys a genuinely selfless commitment to ensuring the happiness and well-being of others without any expectation of personal gain. Empathy-based philanthropy brings together the two and inherently aligns with many historic theological tenets and cultural principles that encourage acts of generosity and benevolence.
From a theological standpoint, empathy-based philanthropy transcends and represents a divine commission urging individuals to fulfill their societal roles as ethically responsible beings. Faithful adherence to divine directive leads many towards humility and forging meaningful relationships with their peers through mutual love, care, understanding, and empathic connections.
In his acclaimed work, "Democracy in America," renowned philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville offers astute observations on the role of philanthropy in molding society. He posited that philanthropy nurtures civic engagement by fostering a strong sense of communal responsibility among citizens. By advocating mutual assistance and cooperation among community members, Tocqueville emphasized the role of philanthropy in elevating us towards more inclusive democratic societies featuring equitable living conditions.
The amalgamation of Tocqueville's insights and the theories mentioned gives rise to the notion that philanthropy encompasses empathic expressions of civic and social responsibility, effectively shaping democratic uplift and equity. These ideas highlight the profound impact of community-focused nurturing and compassion in promoting social cohesion.
Moreover, these ideas hold particular significance for vulnerable populations and communities as active empathy and philanthropy contribute phenomenally towards enabling marginalized individuals and groups to access opportunities to thrive in an unequal world. Encouraging cross-cultural understanding and building bridges across traditionally divided communities can gradually dismantle long-standing biases and pave the way for empowered societies.
Social enterprises practicing this strategy demonstrate how harnessing empathy and philanthropic deeds are instrumental in transforming lives, knitting diverse communities together, and fostering mutual support structures. Such collective efforts can eventually establish an equitable society characterized by respect for diversity and a profound commitment to eradicating systemic injustices.
As we strive for a more equitable world, let us embrace the practice of empathy-based philanthropy by engaging attentively with our local communities while exemplifying the moral principles that underpin democratic values. By doing so, we can become agents of change who honor our interdependence by employing compassion, generosity, and understanding as powerful tools toward collective uplift.
Demonstrators rally outside the U.S. Supreme Court as justices hear oral arguments on whether President Donald Trump can deny citizenship to children born to parents who are in the United States illegally or temporarily, on Capitol Hill, in Washington, Wednesday, April 1, 2026. (AP Photo/Mariam Zuhaib)
Luz Angela Nuñez with her daughter Aisha Quershi Nuñez at their home in College Point, Queens. Photo: Mia Anzalone for Documented.
Kimberly Alvarez, 25, with her daughter Evangeline and her husband John Alvarez in Medellin, Colombia. Photo courtesy of Kimberly Alvarez.Alvarez arrived in New York City in February 2024 with her husband John Alvarez as asylum seekers from Venezuela. In April 2025, Alvarez found out she was pregnant with her first child, a baby girl. Her first reaction, she said, was fear.“How am I going to keep her alive?” she said. “That’s what I was thinking. ‘How am I going to be able to take care of her?’”At the beginning of Alvarez’s pregnancy, she said she was aware of the immigration enforcement occurring around the country, but vowed not to let it deter her from showing up to her doctor’s appointments.“When you went out, you were always on alert because you didn’t know if [ICE] might be around. I never saw anything suspicious,” Alvarez said. “But of course, you feel scared.”In October, when Alvarez was six months pregnant, her husband was detained by ICE agents at 26 Federal Plaza. When the immediate shock wore off, she obsessively checked the Online Detainee Locator System to find out where her husband went. A day later, she discovered that he was being kept at Delaney Hall detention center in New Jersey. Alvarez quickly set up an account to pay for phone calls, and every two days, she would pay about $10 for a one-hour call, updating her husband about the baby, her appointments and how she was doing.“Crying was the only way for me to release the tension,” said Alvarez, who worried that her lack of sleep and bad diet were impacting her baby. “Crying was the only way for me to release the tension.”—Kimberly AlvarezThat tension built up day by day, week by week following her husband’s arrest. Alvarez had stopped her work as a cleaner in the neighborhood’s synagogues two weeks before her husband’s detention because of her pregnancy. The plan, she said, was to rely solely on his income as a maintenance worker for “the food, the rent, everything.” Left with few choices, Kimberley had to rely on her mother’s income as a cleaner. The older woman had moved to New York from North Carolina to assist with Alvarez’s pregnancy. “I feel like I’m supposed to help my mom, not the other way around,” Alvarez said. “I felt powerless because I couldn’t do anything.”On Dec. 9, Alvarez gave birth to a daughter, Evangeline. While her baby was healthy, Alvarez’s anxieties did not go away. While she returned to cleaning synagogues a few months after Evangeline’s birth to help make ends meet, Alvarez and her daughter rarely left home. Alvarez said she felt paralyzed, getting frequent alerts from a neighborhood WhatsApp group when ICE was spotted nearby. One day, she said, ICE arrested her friend’s husband in Sunset Park, in an area where she would sometimes take Evangeline for walks.“I’m so afraid that I’ll go out and run into one of them and that they’ll take her away from me,” Alvarez said. “That’s my biggest fear, that someone will take her away from me and I won’t know where my daughter is.”In March, her husband decided to voluntarily remove himself from the United States and move back to Colombia, where he is originally from. It was a family decision, but it was not a happy one — hiring immigration lawyers was too expensive, Alvarez said, adding that staying in the U.S. felt too uncertain. 
