Culture of caring

Government relies on a wide range of Illinois nonprofits
to provide human services, support education and keep the arts alive

by Crystal Yednak

Absent the efforts of the thousands of nonprofits in Illinois, the cultural and social fabric of the state likely would be worn threadbare.

Illinois nonprofits work in almost invisible ways, filling roles that many may not realize. The government relies on nonprofits to provide human services to Illinois residents who need food, counseling, shelter and health care. Nonprofits keep culture alive in communities across the state through theater companies, symphonies and arts education programs. The state’s nonprofit network includes multibillion-dollar institutions of higher learning such as the University of Chicago, as well as world premiere science museums and hospitals. Nonprofit institutions fill certain niches — in traditional and nontraditional ways — such as the Raggedy Ann and Andy Museum in Arcola or the Leather Archives and Museum in Chicago, dedicated to preserving the history of fetishism. The organizations also advocate for causes that ordinary citizens don’t have the time for — to be a watchdog of government or of society itself.

An ordinary street scene in any given Illinois town can illustrate the reach that thousands of nonprofit workers and organizations have each year. Flyers on a building may advertise an upcoming production of a nonprofit theater group. The air may be a bit more breathable because of the efforts of nonprofit environmental groups. A homeless family may be in a shelter instead of on the street because of the dedication of a nonprofit.

“Oftentimes, people really associate the word ‘charity’ or ‘nonprofit’ with those that help the less fortunate — the homeless shelters, food banks. They’re less apt to think about a cultural institution like a theater being a nonprofit,” says Sandra Miniutti, spokeswoman for Charity Navigator, a New Jersey-based organization that evaluates charities. “The diversity is a positive thing.”

Within Illinois’ nonprofit network, more than 427,000 workers toil away for their individual causes. Here’s a look at some of the diverse roles Illinois nonprofits play in the state:

Southern Illinois Community Foundation

In Marion, Patricia Bauer racks up the miles on her Honda Accord trying to build a name for the Southern Illinois Community Foundation in the 17 counties that it serves.

“We’re young and we’re rural, and it takes a long time to educate people to get them to the point they’re ready to use the foundation,” says Bauer, the foundation’s executive director.

At 10 years old, the foundation is trying to stand on its own feet after being nursed along from infancy through a program run by the Grand Victoria Foundation, an Elgin-based organization that has spent the past several years trying to create a stronger infrastructure for philanthropy throughout the state. When the effort started in 2001, community foundations were a fledgling sector of the nonprofit world in Illinois, says Nancy Fishman, executive director of the foundation.

“Philanthropy and civic leadership are concentrated in certain parts of the state and not others. We set out to stimulate philanthropy, to create a more robust landscape for it,” Fishman says.

The Grand Victoria Foundation, which was established in 1996 by the Grand Victoria Casino, has provided operating support to community foundations throughout Illinois and recently pledged $42 million more to help those organizations continue with their action plans over the next three years.

For nonprofits in rural parts of the state, there are only so many doors to knock on to ask for money — unlike Chicago where many large, well-established foundations exist, Bauer says.

“They keep their money in Chicago,” she says. “There is great need in Chicago, but I think they just don’t know how poor southern Illinois is. … It’s always been a struggle, and we’ve always gotten our funding from the people who live here.”

Community foundations act as a bank for the charitable dollars of its residents, then funnel the money to local nonprofits. They can also serve as gatekeepers, vetting the efficiency of nonprofit organizations that may receive the money.

Last year, the Southern Illinois Community Foundation handed out about $401,000 in grants to local nonprofits.

Emil Spees, 73, of Carbondale, and his wife, Edith, made a gift to the Southern Illinois Community Foundation last year to establish endowment funds that benefit charities of their choice. “We felt assured the money would be well taken care of and well invested,” he says.

Providence Family Services

“Sister Patty” walks briskly through the old brick convent where she has lived and worked for the past 32 years in Chicago’s Humboldt Park neighborhood.

While working as a teacher and principal in the Maternity BVM Catholic Elementary School next door, Sister Patricia Fillenwarth noticed that many families in the neighborhood could benefit from counseling, especially in their native Spanish. But none could afford to pay for such a service. So in 1991, she enrolled in school herself, became a bilingual counselor and opened Providence Family Services, persuading the priest to give her space in the convent to use for her small program.

Slowly, Sister Patty and her band of volunteers have taken over much of the building as they continue to add new services to help their neighbors. As she leads a tour through the facility, kids and volunteers from local colleges sit at tables throughout the convent, going over workbooks and flashcards for the after-school tutoring program run by the retired sister. When classes in English as a second language were needed, Sister Patty went to Wright College about partnering to provide the classes to parents. A former preschool room in the basement is now used as a babysitting room where kids play while their parents learn English. An old laundry room was painted lavender and is filled with donated computers for a computer class.

Sister Patty sees about 30 clients a week in a small, dimly lit corner office. A part-time counselor also has her own list of clients. Most pay about $8 for a counseling session; some can’t pay at all. “They’re three months behind on rent, gas is about to be shut off. I’m not going to add to their stress. Somehow they keep going,” she says.

This year the agency has a development person for the first time working to build its yearly $120,000 budget.

“She writes and writes and writes, but nobody’s got any money to give you,” Sister Patty says.

The agency mostly gets by on donations, small grants and the $3,500 from an annual rummage sale in the church basement.

Sister Patty is worried about other needs she sees. “I get more requests now for food and clothing, and we don’t do that because we don’t have space or a social worker,” she says. “There are fewer and fewer places to refer people to.

“I don’t know what people do, to tell you the truth,” she says. “I’m sorry we can’t do that, too.”

Prairie Rivers Network

If a company wants to increase the amount of pollution it dumps into Illinois waterways, it should expect the eye of the Prairie Rivers Network upon it.

“We’re in a watchdog role — watching them, commenting, getting involved in negotiations to say, ‘Can’t you do better than this proposal we’re seeing?’” says Glynnis Collins, executive director of the Champaign-based nonprofit.

Each week, Traci Barkley, a water resources scientist, combs through permits on file with the Illinois Environmental Protection Agency and other agencies to make sure industrial facilities and sewage treatment plants are minding the Clean Water Act. It’s work that average citizens often don’t have the time or expertise to do.

“There’s always pressure from the polluting industries,” Barkley says. “We have to maintain pressure on the other side, as well.”

Among its recent accomplishments, the network joined a coalition to get power plants in Illinois to reduce mercury emissions. The network also recently scored a victory in making sure clean waters are kept clean by not allowing polluters to dump higher levels of toxins into the water because the waterway started at a cleaner level.

Marcia Willhite, chief of the bureau of water for the Illinois EPA, says the agency has a good working relationship with the network and its staff of scientists. The two parties don’t always agree. “But generally, I think they do a good job of filling that environmental advocacy role,” Willhite says.

Belleville Philharmonic Orchestra

In 1866, a group of German immigrants returning from the Civil War had a meeting in Belleville to discuss bringing their love of music to life in the United States. They rehearsed for a month and had their first concert on January 26, 1867.

“It’s been going ever since,” says Robert Charles Howard, conductor of the Belleville Philharmonic Orchestra. He has a pile of programs stretching back to those early days that proves as much.

“Belleville has always been a music town,” says Erna Meyer, 83, who has played violin in the orchestra for 53 years. “It is the second-oldest continuously playing orchestra in the whole United States. It’s quite an honor to be part of that.”

The nonprofit runs on a budget of about $80,000, cobbled together from program ads, concert sponsorships, gifts from the community, ticket sales and a grant from the Illinois Arts Council. The musicians are mostly volunteers with other professions who come together every Thursday night to practice in the red brick building the orchestra has owned for more than a century. There are lawyers, professors, ministers, high school students and senior citizens.

“On Thursday night, people come from wherever they are, and they’re all doing it for fulfillment and enrichment,” Howard says. “We need the life of all these different community connections coming out in the music. … We’re part of what Belleville’s always been.”

Community Support Services

The seven concrete stairs to Patricia Tejeda’s home in suburban Chicago are steep, especially when the petite woman is alone and has to carry her 9-year-old daughter Ana and Ana’s wheelchair up the steps while also transporting her 5-month-old baby and 5-year-old son.

On many days, she does it, but Community Support Services Inc. in the Chicago suburb of Brookfield provides a break for her.

Her case manager, Samantha Cortez, is comfortable enough in the Tejeda home to pick up the baby and make him laugh, while also helping the 30-year-old Spanish-speaking mother to schedule doctor appointments, school meetings and respite care workers to come into the home to care for Ana. Ana suffers from cerebral palsy and a seizure disorder and cannot walk or talk, save for a few words.

Community Support Services, which operates on a budget of about $6 million, serves 650 children, adults and seniors. After the start of the fiscal year, the state cut the agency’s grant for respite care and family support by $88,000 or 12 percent, says president Gaye Preston. That meant every family, including Ana’s, had their respite care slashed by about 20 percent.

Other funding sources could not help the organization make up the difference. The agency’s annual golf outing brought in just about half of the $100,000 it usually counts on, Preston says. The agency also downsized plans to partner with other nonprofits to open a new building in suburban Cicero as part of an effort to reach the underserved population in the area.

“We didn’t want to stop serving people, but we had to respond in some way,” Preston says of the changes.

With the loss of hours, Tejeda faces those stairs alone more days. She is grateful for the help but could always use more assistance. In Spanish, Tejeda says,“It helps us a lot. Ana enjoys it, and we get to rest.”

Crystal Yednak is a Chicago-based free-lance writer.

Illinois Issues, June 2009