As Juma grad Cruz Ramirez, class of 2008, recounts, “Not only did I get into the university of my dreams, but I was also able to get it all together financially and emotionally and finally go. Juma staff was with me every step of the way.” Cruz's story is not unique, or even unusual. In 2011, every one of Juma's young people in the Bay Area graduated from high school. Ninety percent of those high school graduates went on to enroll in college, almost twice the national average of low-income high school graduates who move on to college. As this book goes to press, 83 percent of Juma graduates who started college three years ago are on track to graduate in four years. These numbers are a cause for celebration and a reason for emulation.
We begin with the story of Juma Ventures, not just because it is a mission-driven venture that has achieved enviable – and measurable – success, but also because Juma is a striking example for anyone who sees a problem – whether in his or her own community or in a community across the globe – and wants to take action to help solve it by attacking the problem at its source.
Since it began in 1993 by opening a single Ben and Jerry's Scoop Shop in San Francisco and hiring low-income young people to run it, Juma Ventures has been gnawing away at the root of poverty in America by helping young people from low-income families get a financial and college education and develop transferable job skills by running a profitable small business. All of these things will help them make better life decisions, keep them employed in good-paying jobs, and prevent them from slipping back into poverty. If they don't slip back into poverty, they won't depend for survival on government subsidy or private philanthropy.
This is not to suggest that traditional non-profit organizations – or social enterprises – should attack the source of the world's most challenging social problems, but ignore their symptoms. One million American children go to bed hungry, and fifty million Americans are unable to buy the food they need to stay healthy. So, clearly, traditional non-profits that focus on alleviating the symptoms of social problems (for example, by running soup kitchens or pay-what-you-can restaurants) are more important than ever.
What's so exciting about mission-driven ventures is that their potential is transformational. Organizations like Juma Ventures are game-changers. They do not make the condition of the disadvantaged more tolerable, but innovate and disrupt in ways that governments, philanthropies, and traditional non-profits simply cannot, given the challenges of public budget austerity and declining charitable giving. Juma's approach to combat the scourge of poverty is irresistible: give young people the tools they need to succeed in life and, when they do, encourage them to support Juma's programs by paying forward the life-changing kindness Juma showed them at a critical juncture in their development.
Now, for the first time, a Juma graduate sits on the organization's board of directors, and several other graduates help run Juma. The organization's goal is to have a graduate serve as its CEO within the next twenty years. If Juma and mission-driven ventures like it are able to continue to grow and replicate their tremendous success, they will significantly contribute to solving the world's most intractable social problems.
Juma's experience is a reflection of social and commercial enterprises' growing commitment to social accountability, environmental stewardship, and financial performance, the elusive new social compact that has been dubbed the “triple bottom line.”
“Father G” and Homeboy
Drive 350 miles south of Juma's headquarters, and you'll find Father Greg Boyle – “Father G” to some of the high-risk former gang members his Homeboy Industries employs, “G-Dog” to others – a charismatic visionary tackling the pain of poverty and unemployment in the mean streets of East Los Angeles with tactics Marc Spencer would likely endorse. Father Boyle's journey began in 1988 with the “Jobs For A Future” campaign he launched with Dolores Mission, where he served as a Jesuit pastor. Homeboy Bakery, a 1992 response to civil unrest in Los Angeles, came next, followed by non-profit economic development enterprises, including Homeboy Silkscreen, Homeboy/Homegirl Merchandise, Homeboy Diner, Homeboy Farmers Markets, Homeboy Plumbing, and Homegirl Café. The Homeboy strategy, providing training and work experience to rival gang members, brings them together in a common cause. Father Greg's mantra – “Nothing stops a bullet like a job” – is the slogan emblazoned on some of the T-shirts Homeboy Industries sells, and it's also the message he sells to everyone who will listen. G-Dog, a man of faith who believes in second chances and the power of redemption, delivers on his promise: his social conglomerate proudly claims to be the largest gang intervention, rehabilitation, and re-entry program in the nation.
Hector Verdrigo knows that the Homeboy approach works; it worked for him. As he tells it, “Gang lifestyle was in our family – all my aunts and uncles were involved. It was easy to get into the violent lifestyle of being a gang member and looking forward to going to juvenile hall to prove yourself. When you got out, you had to go to state prison.” But now Hector, a product of Homeboy, is Father Boyle's right-hand man. Just as Marc Spencer expects Juma grads to take over its operations one day, Father G expects someone like Hector – and not a priest – to succeed him.
Vanessa Bartram and WorkSquare, LLC
Across the continent, Harvard M.B.A. Vanessa Bartram found herself inspired by University of Michigan economist C.K. Prahalad's argument that for-profit businesses can successfully fight poverty while delivering goods and services to the poor. Bartram's Miami-based WorkSquare, LLC, South Florida's first certified “B Corp,” profitably connects employers with reliable, low-wage temporary or temp-to-perm hospitality workers. WorkSquare keeps its fees low, rejecting the waiting periods and buy-out fees customary in the temp agency world. It even allows employers to hire temp workers permanently at no fee at all. Employers gain a risk-free and economical way to recruit new hires whom they can evaluate on the job before they offer them permanent employment. Low-wage job seekers, often lacking education and English language skills, are put firmly on the path out of poverty and toward permanent employment. What's more, partnering with United Way of Miami, WorkSquare trains its employees for work readiness as well as financial literacy to ensure their long-term financial stability and, ultimately, their financial independence.
Vanessa Bartram's achievements were recognized by the Hitachi Foundation, which in 2012 named her one of the top young entrepreneurs intent on building sustainable businesses in the United States. The workers she's empowered earn more, spend smarter, and build wealth.
Take Hortense, who did a good job when she was a short-term hotel housekeeper, thanks to a WorkSquare opportunity. The organization was able to shift her to another hotel that offered her a permanent opening paying $10.25 per hour. Leveraging her temporary assignment to secure full-time employment positioned Hortense for a brighter, more self-sufficient future.
Social enterprises like Juma Ventures, Homeboy Industries, and WorkSquare, all shining examples of thought leadership, have become mainstream. They disrupt through innovation. They join forces as a community of change-makers. They scale through collaboration. They blur the lines between for-profit and non-profit. They embrace sound business principles. They create business models wherein measurement is integral to the normal course of meeting a challenge. And they abandon the systems that no longer work.
The Origin of Mission-Driven Ventures
But how did we get here? The origin of mission-driven ventures in the United States can be traced back to pre-Revolutionary New England when for-profit enterprises and organizations that promoted the social welfare were seen as necessarily separate and distinct, such that the latter's missions could only be funded with private donations. This conceptual distinction was preserved throughout