Welcome back to Know Your Network, TFN’s blog series highlighting the people making an impact across our community of funders, partners and allies — and beyond.
For this latest installment of KYN, we sat down with Treye Johnson, a program director at the George Gund Foundation based in Cleveland, Ohio. Treye leads the foundation’s grantmaking focused on economic justice and community power. He also serves on TFN’s Board of Directors and as co-chair of TFN’s Inclusive Economies working group.
Q: Hi Treye! What does your economic justice and community power work look like right now, and what’s energizing or most challenging?
A: We’re prioritizing the most marginalized — Black and Brown communities, women, people with disabilities, LGBTQ+ folks, immigrants. And in this anti‑DEI moment, every day feels like a battle.
I would say philanthropy can be lower stress than our partners’ on‑the‑ground work. But in this time and with this administration, now we’re under real pressure. I especially feel it as a Black male with friends and family in these communities.
This isn’t a job where 5 o’clock hits and I can leave things behind. I’m never not thinking about the work because it’s impacting the real people I know and care about. It’s exhausting by design — there’s a group of folks out there who are actively trying to seed chaos to wear us down. So there’s certainly a challenge in that.
I also work at a private family foundation that has a board and leadership that give me leeway others don’t have — particularly my colleagues in community foundations or corporate philanthropy. I recognize that privilege, but it creates pressure to carry extra weight because I’m able to push more boldly, to lean in and call a thing a thing.
What energizes me most is time with partners: dreaming, ideating, and imagining what’s possible. Letting your imagination remind you why you’re in the work is what recharges me.
Q: How do economic justice and community power show up together in your grantmaking and strategy?
A: We used to be “Vibrant Neighborhoods and Inclusive Economies”, but we kept getting outreach from places that didn’t actually need our help. Renaming the program to Economic Justice and Community Power was a way to stand 10 toes down for who we’re trying to benefit — communities of color, LGBTQ+ folks, women, people with disabilities, immigrants.
That means prioritizing leadership from people who come from the communities they serve. Too often Black- and Brown-led organizations or women‑owned groups are funded “just enough to fail.” And so we’re trying to flip that on its head.
There’s also the power dynamic. Philanthropy often acts as kingmaker, deciding which representatives and strategies get resources.
Real community power looks like accountability without fear of retribution or funding being pulled. Our role is to elevate the community and help people see that the real power is with them.
Q: You also serve on TFN’s Board of Directors — how has being part of The Funders Network shaped your approach to collaboration and field-building?
A: TFN has just been so instrumental to me in my philanthropic journey as a place where I could learn and grow, and where I could find my people.
I’m an introvert, I like the quiet. And when I was first starting out, I didn’t know a thing about philanthropy. But John Mitterholzer, my dear friend and colleague at George Gund Foundation, came into the office one day and he said: I’m chair of the board of an organization called The Funders Network. There’s a cool conference in March that I think you should go to.
I was like, okay sure — I’m the new guy, I’ll go to Boston. I figured I’d spend the whole time standing silent in the corner. But my goodness, everyone was so welcoming and warm. I left that conference knowing TFN is my place.
And when I interviewed for the Gund Foundation Fellowship, I was drawn to the wide breadth of issue areas. I cared about education because I was previously a high school administrator. My son was born 13 weeks early, so health and human services were important to me. The arts, small businesses, community development — all of these issues were at my core.
But the one area I wasn’t sure about was the environment. At the time, I felt like all the conversations were centered on animals in some far-flung part of the world.
TFN was the first place I heard climate talked about as a people issue — jobs, cities, transportation — and saw how these pieces intersect.
My work is shaped in large part by TFN’s tremendous community of leaders, experts, and just good people who stand for their values.
From place-based funders around the country to big national funders, we’re dealing with issues that really aren’t all that different. And so TFN is this incredible intersection of funders from different spaces and with different priorities, who figure out how to weave these things together.
Q: As a co-chair of TFN’s Inclusive Economies working group, what’s most urgent for Inclusive Economies, and where should philanthropy act first?
A: I actually left philanthropy for a while because I hated the lack of urgency — we keep circling the same problems 15 years later. We know what the issues are and what it takes to fix them, so the question is: why aren’t we doing it?
When I returned as co‑chair of TFN’s Inclusive Economies, I knew I wanted to focus on action.
One example is capital access. We’re doing more work in the entrepreneurship and economic development space. If you’re committed, at some point, you just have to start the work. We know capital access is an issue, so let’s start moving capital toward the people who need it.
It can be tiring trying to change hearts and minds, and I don’t know if that’s always the best use of our time. We forget sometimes that data points are people; real lives are affected while we run strategic planning.
We need to be courageous funders and stand up for the things we believe in. There’s so many moments in meetings where I’ll hear I’m so glad you said that, and now I’m at a point where I’m asking: Well, why didn’t you say it too?
It’s time for philanthropy to say the big things out loud. Even with all the attacks on the sector, philanthropy has a tremendous amount of cover and privilege to elevate issues, to talk about what’s important, and stand true to our values.
And if we’re not going to be loud in this moment where we need it most, well then what are we waiting for?
Q: What conversations do you hope to see at TFN’s 2026 Fall Convening in Cleveland?
A: I’m looking forward to what TFN, at least in my opinion, is known for: inspiration and learning how to execute it.
Too often we attend these conferences and then leave full of ideas, but no clear path to execute. Nothing changes once we get to our offices.
But I know in Cleveland we’re going to be talking about complex issues. I’m looking forward to learning about the different ways people are tackling these challenges, and hearing the successes they’ve found in operating differently.
Sometimes we’re bound by the limitations of our imaginations in this work. And so I’m excited for the inspiration, which TFN is never short on. But I’m also looking forward to the tangible lessons that I can take home and apply to my work.
Q: Zooming out a bit, what’s shaping your perspective and where do you find energy or hope?
My 14 year old son is a constant source of energy and hope. He certainly keeps my wife and I busy, but he’s incredible and inspires everything I do.
From a professional perspective: taking stock of who had access to me and who didn’t has been a really eye-opening experience. I’ve changed the balance of who has proximity and access. It’s taught me a lot about what it is that the community actually needs and wants.
So that interaction with people has given me energy. When I get out of the office, out of the ivory tower of philanthropy, and talk to real people — that’s where I remember why I do the work.
We’re grateful to Treye for taking the time to share his experiences, lessons learned and hopes for the future.
Inspired by the conversation? Join us at TFN’s 2026 Fall Convening Sept. 14-15 in Cleveland, OH to connect with peers, learn from practitioners and explore how philanthropy can meet this moment.