I predict that, over the next few years, funders will increasingly prioritize equity over inclusion when considering support for BIPOC-led media organizations. Inclusion often means adding BIPOC voices to the conversation, but equity requires a deeper commitment — one that reallocates resources, addresses historical disparities, and ensures that BIPOC-led media have the capacity to thrive and lead the future of journalism.

As a Roma woman, I’ve seen firsthand the harmful narratives perpetuated by legacy media about my people. This history of media harm is why I founded La Converse — a BIPOC-led media organization centering marginalized communities and building bridges where others divide. Through my connections with other BIPOC-centered media, I’ve come to realize that we all face similar challenges. The current sustainability models often miss the mark. They fail to acknowledge the systemic challenges BIPOC-led media face, and instead, they impose unrealistic expectations of self-sufficiency.

Sustainability isn’t the start — repair comes first

In recent years, the term sustainability has dominated conversations among funders, media organizations, and industry leaders. Phrases like “We want to fund sustainable organizations” and “By the end of the grant, the funding should go to zero” have become increasingly common. While sustainability is essential for any successful business, it raises an important question: Who benefits from this definition of sustainability, and who is excluded by it?

BIPOC-led media strive to serve our communities, but we lack the resources available to white-led counterparts. Systemic barriers — such as limited access to networks, funding opportunities, and the absence of a generational financial cushion — make self-sufficiency a distant goal. The communities we serve are often economically disadvantaged and cannot afford to fund journalism through membership models and donations. Asking marginalized people to pay for the journalism that represents them is not only unjust but also unrealistic. Instead, we should be investing in these communities, not demanding they fund journalism meant to serve them.

However, the reality is that we still ask for their support, knowing it cannot mirror the models of media that serve primarily white audiences. Relying on their financial support for our sustainability is colorblind and perpetuates inequality. Additionally, building enough power to convince communities that have been disenfranchised by media to commit to media they believe represents them takes far more time and effort than it would for people who do not carry the same experiences of trauma with media.

Traditional revenue models, such as memberships, may work for legacy media with affluent audiences, but they are ill-suited for organizations like ours, which serve underserved communities. Expecting us to generate significant revenue from these communities is unfair. A recent comment from a funder at a conference — that if people can afford expensive sneakers, they should be able to pay for journalism too — overlooks a crucial reality: When individuals from racialized communities buy such items, they are often navigating a society that devalues them based on appearance. These items are not just products but tools for gaining respect, credibility, and safety in environments where they may be marginalized.

Moreover, rebuilding trust with communities harmed by legacy media is slow, difficult work. It’s not just about providing news — it’s about healing the relationship between marginalized communities and media. Many individuals already face difficult choices — between paying for basic necessities like phone bills, electricity, or groceries. Asking them to fund journalism is simply unjust. This process requires time, care, and, crucially, long-term financial support.

Before we can consider financial sustainability, we must first address the harm caused by legacy media. Sustainability should come after healing. We need reparations for the damage done and reconciliation to repair the divide between the media and the communities it has failed for so long. It’s not just about surviving — it’s about fixing the systems that have failed us.

Our work goes beyond producing stories. We are building meaningful connections and bridging the gap between marginalized communities and the media. We’re healing communities hurt by decades of misrepresentation. This requires more than financial support; it demands time, long-term commitment, and mission-driven funding focused on repairing trust and restoring credibility. Rebuilding this bond is essential to fostering trust, which is the foundation for lasting success. It’s not just about restoring broken trust — it’s about making people feel seen, heard, and understood.

The path to sustainability isn’t just about generating revenue — it’s about repair, reconciliation, and rebuilding trust. Slapping a “sustainable” label on organizations like ours without addressing the deep inequities is insufficient. We need reparations and reconciliation to heal the damage caused by legacy media.

A shift to equity: The new framework for sustainability

It’s time to redefine sustainability. The future of media funding will prioritize equity over inclusion and impact over profit. Equity-based funding models are empowering BIPOC communities, and enabling their voices to thrive in the media landscape. Rather than focusing on whether a BIPOC-led outlet can generate revenue through memberships or advertising, funders will focus on impact — the social change we are creating within our communities by investing in long-term capacity building, not just short-term projects. We need mission-based funding — financial support that reflects our mission, not one that forces us to conform to commercial models that don’t work for us.

Building on equity, funders play a crucial role in reshaping the media ecosystem. The financial support they provide is vital, but it’s not enough on its own. Funders must act as true allies. This means using their privilege to open doors for BIPOC-led organizations, connecting us to influential networks and resources that have historically been out of reach. It’s not just about writing a check; it’s about leveraging their power to advocate on our behalf and help us gain access to larger funding bodies and institutional support.

While philanthropy plays a crucial role, it cannot be the sole source of support for BIPOC-led media. In Canada, government funding is largely directed to legacy media, which often overlook marginalized communities. To build an equitable media ecosystem, government funding must be more inclusive, ensuring that BIPOC-led organizations like La Converse receive the support they need to thrive and repair the relationship between media and underserved communities.

BIPOC-led media are not just survivors of systemic inequities — they are powerful agents of change. By supporting these organizations, funders are securing journalism’s future. In a time when media trust is eroding, misinformation is spreading, and far-right narratives are taking hold, we are rebuilding trust with communities long excluded from the media conversation.