Evolving St. Louis: Leadership, Accountability, and a New Narrative
On August 9th, I faced a choice: to speak or to listen on the 10th anniversary of Michael Brown's death. Preparing to make a public statement, I sought the counsel of a friend whose wisdom I value, even when our views diverge. He advised, "Leave this day to the family and those most proximate to the pain and experience. I heeded his words, but the unease in me remained—an unease rooted in the complexities of St. Louis since 2014.
Looking back, I realize that the course of my career—becoming CEO of the second-largest privately held bank in St. Louis—was shaped by the events and relationships that emerged during that tumultuous time. As the CEO of United Way of Greater St. Louis when Michael Brown was killed, I was in the midst of leading change, pushing against the resistance of those comfortable with the status quo. Change was necessary, but the journey toward meaningful transformation is never straightforward.
Before Michael was killed, we had already started reshaping the United Way of Greater St. Louis to be more relevant. Not everyone agreed with those changes. I sensed a strong desire for things to remain as they were. We had a great organization back then, and I suspect it still is today, but the problem was that the needs of St. Louis were evolving. When the CEO who was my boss retired, he told me, "It's time for change." He had been part of building the system and recognized the need for transformation. A prominent leader once said to me after reading our plan, "Evolution, not revolution, Orv." I agreed—evolution, but evolution requires observable movement in the right direction, I thought.
Our major civic and charitable organizations exist within a broader community. If that community, including corporate and foundation leadership, isn't ready for evolution, they are not inclined to change. I understand this more than most.
In my first year as CEO, with some corporate supporters and some corporate “caution throwers,” we had started down a path of change amid significant resistance. Resistance is normal when it challenges what we have all become comfortable with. When Michael was killed, I wrote about the struggle of being a Black man leading a mainstream organization. I shared how difficult it was because, often, you find yourself in a mainstream organization feeling stifled in what you can say and do. I left most of what I needed to say on the field, meaning I said it. And I worked hard to do what was in my control to do.
In response to questions in corporate circles about the protests, I wrote, "Ferguson is the canvas on which people have chosen to paint the picture of their frustration." These were among my most memorable thoughts. When asked from all corners of the region about the riots, I shared that there is no place for violence—and this was true then and now. The problem is that once riots were introduced, we lost the hearts of key leaders whose support was tenuous from the start. We hosted "courageous conversations" at our United Way offices and with corporate partners, including colleagues who had husbands and brothers who were cops, and moms and dads who had Black sons. It was awkward, stressful, painful, hard, and necessary work.
I believed the region was on the cusp of change. I've seen this cusp more times than I care to communicate in my nearly thirty-year career. The only way I can describe it is like a sweaty palm holding on to hope. Early on, a local Black leader told me, "Just wait until you have some years of experience; you too will become cynical." I'm not cynical, but I'm more conscious now and believe that many of us are detached from what is needed to prevent another Michael Brown-type scenario. Michael's death had many angles, which I'll leave to sociologists and others to analyze.
I believed then, as I do now, that when you have a group of people falling so far behind economically and politically, and when you have a community that has been isolated—and in a real sense, those who have the economic power have rationalized that it is "their own doing"—without any acknowledgment of the role of our collective mindsets, we are in more trouble than we realize. Shared economic power is what's needed.
I often think about the difference between receiving help and receiving a hand-up. As a kid growing up in the toughest neighborhoods—those of you from St. Louis know—I was the beneficiary of a lot of help, and I'm grateful. Now, I'm in a position to help. To help someone is temporary—it is about meeting a basic need. I think about my counselor, Mrs. Kennedy, who gave me a backpack of food. That was help; that was charity—what I needed at the time, and I am forever grateful. There is so much "help" available—if you need food, there is help; if you need utility assistance, there is help; whatever the need, someone or some organization is standing in the gap to help.
That same Mrs. Kennedy positioned me for my first official job at Schnucks because I was ready—my mindset had shifted. I had received so much help, and I was practiced at working—I had demonstrated that I was ready. I was practiced at showing up on time and doing my part. I took the help and did what I could in my own strength—I cut grass, shoveled snow, tended gardens, cleaned basements—whatever I could do to keep moving forward. I began to believe that something more was possible. That same Mrs. Kennedy gave me a hand-up, and that hand-up led from there to where I am today.
So, not only am I in a position to help, as many of you are, I am in a position to provide a hand-up, as many of you are. You just have to choose to rebalance your good deeds. If all of your support is in the basket of help, consider moving some to the basket of a hand-up; perhaps try 30 percent help and 70 percent hand-up.
A hand-up starts with a heavy dose of stretching our belief in the possibility of people. It starts with stretching our belief about what’s possible. Let’s push ourselves to move from just a "help mindset" to a "hand-up mindset." A hand-up mindset has two components—it is the frame of mind of the person who needs the hand-up and the mindset of the person in a position to open that next door. We have to pay attention to what is happening in St. Louis. If we don’t shift our mindset and community mood from amassing more help to amassing more sponsorship and door-opening so that we produce helpers and waymakers, we are going to be in trouble.
If we do not act, the world will leave our region behind. We can choose to be insular and ignore what every researcher engaged by the most powerful organizations in our region says when asked what St. Louis should do to grow. In some form or another, they all say we need to grapple with our greatest liability—race—and we need to create shared economic growth. This growth must include White, Black, and Brown communities. But these researchers also point out that there is one group falling further and further behind, creating a more significant drag on our entire metro economy. There are some who may not care about this—I think their time is up.
What do the people say? I choose growth. I choose a growth mindset that isn’t about anchoring to a past narrative about who we are, but about accelerating and holding ourselves accountable. I think you want us to be accountable to growth too. Let’s get moving.
Twenty years from now, I envision a St. Louis where we celebrate record numbers of businesses opening and people employed, where more citizens are inspired to participate in the political process, and where our narrative is one of growth, opportunity, and shared prosperity. But to get there, we must shift from a mindset of temporary help to one of empowerment and economic inclusion. We must confront our deepest challenges—racial inequities and economic enablers that perpetuate dependency—and turn them into our greatest strengths.
This is not just about economic growth; it’s about changing our story and who we choose to be as a community. Let’s not be left behind. Let’s choose a growth mindset, one that embraces accountability, courage, and the will to build a future where everyone has the chance to thrive. The time for change is now. Let’s get moving.
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