By: Dr. Kim Williams-Pulfer
A Question that Sparked Reflection
“Well, I really want to know if your research covers topics like Susu, Pardner, or Box Hand — topics that show who we are as Caribbean people and explain how we have supported, cared for, and loved each other.”
A student posed this question to me after I had presented to a group of PhD students as part of their research seminar at the University of the Virgin Islands’ doctoral programme in Creative Leadership for Innovation and Change. My topic for the session was “The Building Blocks of Caribbean-Based and Community-Engaged Research.” During this presentation, I used my recently published book, Get Involved: Stories of Bahamian Civil Society (Rutgers University Press), as a roadmap for the students to advance their work as emerging Caribbean researchers.
Expanding the Regional Research Repository
I wanted to encourage these emerging researchers to expand our regional research repository. The case for research excellence I laid out to them was three-fold:
- We have untapped research opportunities focusing on the Caribbean’s comparative and shared histories, experiences, and perspectives.
- Failure to pay attention to these opportunities will limit the possibilities for advancing the well-being of all who call the region home.
- Using one’s lived experience and research methods that centre people’s experiences in the region is critical in expanding the knowledge base of relevant research.
I sought to show them how my book drew on these three principles for strengthening Caribbean community-centred research.
Recognising Shared Regional Practices
In response to the PhD student’s question about what he called Susu—and what we in The Bahamas call Asue—I smiled and affirmed his inquiry. Through my research, he recognised something about our shared regional experience.
This indigenous banking system is one relevant local example I highlight in the book as a mode of philanthropic engagement that has provided more than an exchange of community funds—it has also advanced human dignity and fulfilled an unmet need for social mobility. It warmed my heart that he had made the connection.
Reframing Philanthropy in the Caribbean Context
From my experience and ongoing study, the history and legacy of robust philanthropic and third-sector activities are long-standing and rich. Yet, dominant research sources pay little attention to these activities.
Research on philanthropy often concentrates on individuals with enormous wealth from the Global North. While these kinds of efforts are laudable, I wanted to centre on Global South, Caribbean, and Bahamian practices—to honour and assess how people who lacked large sums of wealth, and who faced exclusion, used their cultural definitions of philanthropy to “make a way when there was no other way.”
Grounding Research in Lived Experience
When I started my doctoral programme, I knew from the outset that I wanted to consider ideas like philanthropy and civil society from a Bahamian and Caribbean perspective. I was drawn to these subjects because I sensed their force in my own life and understanding of identity.
As I embarked on my research journey, I wanted to know how former small Caribbean island colonies, like The Bahamas, produced such strong leadership and a sense of communal and regional identity. My early studies of enslavement, emancipation, and independence revealed how the pursuit of equitable living was led, created, and maintained by local people committed to community empowerment.
Philanthropy and Leadership Across Generations
Philanthropy—derived from the Greek meaning “love of humanity” and defined today as “voluntary action for the public good”—has always been embodied in Bahamian and Caribbean contexts.
Local leaders practised their philanthropy creatively, advancing civil society through friendly societies, lodges, protests, advocacy groups, and community-based care systems. I examined the work of leaders like Dr. C.R. Walker and Mother Frances Butler, who spoke out and provided for those without access to essential services.
Religious institutions, too, became spaces for expression and social change. The arts—through literature and cultural institutions—played a vital role in shaping identity and advocacy. Writers such as Robert Johnson, Marion Bethel, and Ian Strachan captured these community perspectives and inspired new forms of creative leadership.
In interviews with current nonprofit leaders, many described how pioneers of the sector inspired them and paved the way for new generations to expand and innovate.
Rethinking the “Third Sector” Narrative
There is a tendency for dominant research or policy insights to describe the third sector in the Global South as anemic or flawed. However, this perspective overlooks its rich historical foundations and ongoing impact.
Without understanding earlier formations, we risk marginalising practices that have long guided and strengthened our communities.
A Living Legacy of Community and Care
In documenting these experiences, I engaged with stories of freedom and community—stories of striving against racism, sexism, and socio-economic disparities deeply rooted in the Americas.
Once a dissertation and now a book, Get Involved broadens our recognition of shared humanity and celebrates our local legacy of community leadership. These practices, I argue, are vital to addressing ongoing challenges.
The Drumbeat Continues
Just as I appreciated the PhD student’s question, I am excited whenever I see local third-sector organisations forging ahead in their work.
For every youth programme, community centre opening, grassroots activity, and sponsorship for local initiatives, the drumbeat of our Caribbean vision of philanthropy and civil society still beats strongly.
My research both documents and mediates this ongoing work—and invites others to continue it. Ultimately, I hope Get Involved helps renew our collective commitment to strengthen the third sector and ensure it remains a dynamic space for advancing social good.
