It’s hard to overstate how critical government funding is to our community. UJA’s nonprofit partners — particularly the human service agencies that are on the ground every day providing essential services to the elderly, the poor, people with disabilities, and at-risk children — receive the largest percentage of their funding through government.
New York City outsources almost all human services to nonprofits, administering funds emanating from city, state, and federal sources. Each year, the city invests roughly $4 billion in the sector to provide the full spectrum of human services — home delivered kosher meals, shelters for domestic violence, mental health services, and far more. But while $4 billion may sound like a lot, the city only reimburses the nonprofit sector for about 80% of the actual cost for the contracted services.
The consequences are not surprising: a recent report estimates that 18% of NYC human service nonprofits are insolvent. (And this doesn’t even reflect the impact of the currently proposed federal cuts.)
To alleviate the shortfall between what the government funds and what these services actually cost to provide, agencies turn to fundraising and critical philanthropic sources like UJA’s core unrestricted support. But as vital as our philanthropy is, we cannot possibly substitute for government.
Over UJA’s 100 years, our mission to care for the most vulnerable in our community has required that we advocate with and on behalf of our nonprofits for irreplaceable government funds. Right now, our advocacy is more crucial than ever.
In the next few weeks, I’ll be joined by my colleagues from Catholic Charities, the Federation of Protestant Welfare Agencies, and the Human Services Council in a meeting with Mayor de Blasio’s senior team. We are asking the city to increase funding to the more than 1,000 nonprofits operating in New York by a flexible 12%, representing an additional $500 million, to compensate for nearly 10 years of almost no upward adjustment in contract rates.
To go beyond the numbers and understand what’s really at stake, consider this story, a composite that represents any number of poor or near-poor seniors who depend on UJA and its nonprofit partners to make their lives better.
Esther, a 75-year-old retired bookkeeper, scrapes by on social security and a small pension, and lives in subsidized senior housing provided by JASA, a UJA-supported agency. Esther recently fell on the ice and broke her hip. Before the fall, she’d meet her friends every day at the local UJA-supported JCC, where they’d take art classes, swim together, and eat lunch with other seniors. Now, she’s dependent on kosher home-delivered meals from JASA, a home health aide, transportation to her doctor’s visits, and a case manager who helps coordinate everything.
Esther’s life would be profoundly more difficult but for the essential services JASA provides. But JASA itself is ever-more stressed to maintain its current level of service. On top of that, the current proposed changes to Medicaid being debated in Congress (through the American Health Care Act) and the federal blueprint, have the potential to devastate the sector — affecting Esther’s food, health aide, and case manager, as well as the public hospital that treated her. To be clear, the nonprofit sector must also do all it can to reduce waste and inefficiency. But the situation is dire — and the current federal legislation will further destabilize the sector — with millions of adults and children with disabilities, older adults, and seniors who depend on Medicaid at risk of losing coverage.
This is not a moment for silence. For a century, we’ve been a community that puts a premium on caring for people like Esther, people who would otherwise be unseen and forgotten. Today and always, we are there to put a spotlight on their struggles — and to be their voice.
Shabbat shalom,
Eric
P.S. This has been a difficult week. Our hearts go out to the victims of the London terror attacks and their families, and we pray for the recovery of the wounded. These events remind us of the very real ongoing threat of terror and the need to remain vigilant in our communities.
We’re also processing the deeply disquieting news that the apparent perpetrator of many of the JCC bomb threats was a disturbed 19-year-old Jewish teen in Israel. This is a heartbreaking development, but it also presents an opportunity for communal reflection. Some were quick to use the bomb threats to cast blame and attack others in the community with whom they profoundly disagree. Yes, we must always speak out against hatred and violence. But we’re reminded that none of us has a monopoly on the truth, and even our most difficult and painful issues must be discussed with civility — not the very type of hateful rhetoric we seek to condemn. Our critical work, which we can only do together, demands no less.