Good morning, CharterFolk.
Today we are pleased to share a Contributor Column from John Campbell, the Founder of FundEd Strategies.
We provide a bio for John below.
John Campbell, CFRE, is the founder of FundEd Strategies, a national consultancy supporting public charter schools and education nonprofits to start, scale, and sustain their fundraising programs. Since its founding in 2018, FundEd has helped more than 80 schools and organizations raise over $200 million.
John brings over 15 years of fundraising and organizational management experience in the social sector. John has served as an Executive Director and Director of Development. Most recently, he served as Director of Advancement at Eagle Academy Public Charter School, where he cultivated over $5 million in strategic resources and partnerships. He also served as the first Executive Director of the Cassandra S. Pinkney Foundation, the schools new supporting foundation.
John holds a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration and Economics from Lebanon Valley College and an MBA from American University’s Kogod School of Business. He serves as a trustee for Capital City Public Charter School in Washington, D.C. and VP of Internal Affairs for the Association of Fundraising Professionals, Washington DC Chapter. John splits his time between New York, Pennsylvania, and Washington, DC.
The Narrative Is Hurting Fundraising. Let’s Fix It Together.
At a recent charter school event, I found myself in one of those conversations that stays with you. Equal parts energizing and unsettling.
Energizing, because there is so much excellence in our schools.
Unsettling, because we keep telling the same people about it, or we’re not telling anyone at all.
In a follow-up note, Jed Wallace of CharterFolk posed a question that’s been rattling around in my head ever since: how do we expect to raise money for schools when the broader narrative stays so negative?
That question is the heart of this column. The narrative around charter schools is materially affecting fundraising, and changing it is a shared responsibility across the sector. What follows is both an honest look at why the current narrative fails and an invitation to think together about how we shift it.
The Narrative Gap
Here’s what I hear from my progressive friends: “Charters take money from public schools. They don’t perform any better. They cherry-pick students.”
Even when those claims are wrong, incomplete, or outdated, they stick. They’re simple, repeatable, and socially “safe” in certain circles. They require no evidence. They signal tribal loyalty. And they go largely unchallenged in the spaces where donors, foundation officers, and elected officials form their views.
Try Googling any charter school. Before you get to the school’s website, Google suggests questions like “What is the downside of charter schools?” and “Why say no to charter schools?” That’s not a conspiracy. That’s the algorithm reflecting what the public conversation has become. And that conversation shapes what donors think before we ever sit down with them.
Meanwhile, here’s what I actually see in my work: Black and Brown families making intentional choices to send their children to high-performing schools. Schools led by Black and Brown educators who understand their communities and hold students to high expectations. Students achieving outcomes that would be celebrated if they happened anywhere else. Parents who feel seen, heard, and respected by institutions that treat them as partners.
The gap between perception and reality is costing us. Not just in dollars, but in political will. We have few Democratic allies in Congress who champion what we do. They’ve heard from unions and activist groups. They haven’t heard, in compelling and consistent terms, from the families whose children are thriving.
That’s a failure of narrative. And it’s one we can more intentionally address together.
Fundraising Runs on Belief, and Belief Runs on Narrative
At its core, fundraising is relationship building. Yes, there’s strategy involved. But whether you’re cultivating a foundation program officer, a corporate partner, a government champion, or an individual donor, the work comes down to the same thing: building trust and transferring belief.
Do you believe this work matters? Do you believe it works? Do you trust the people leading it?
When donors say yes to those questions, partnerships grow and resources follow. When they say no, or even “I’m not sure,” the relationship stalls. And here’s the challenge: it’s extraordinarily difficult to build belief in something that already carries a negative reputation.
When the dominant public storyline says “charters are suspicious” or “charters harm public education,” it adds friction to every conversation. Foundation officers worry about board optics. Corporate partners worry about brand risk. Individual donors wonder if they’ll have to defend their giving at dinner parties or in their community. Elected officials calculate whether public support will cost them politically. Even people inclined to help start from skepticism rather than curiosity.
That friction kills momentum. It slows decision-making. It turns “yes” into “maybe next year.” It shifts foundation priorities toward less contested causes.
I’ve watched this play out in real time. Donors who gave enthusiastically five years ago now ask more questions, request more documentation, and take longer to decide. Program officers who once championed charter investments now steer their boards toward “safer” education initiatives. The chill is real. Outcomes haven’t declined. The story has shifted.
I’ve experienced this personally, too. As a lifelong Democrat surrounded by progressive friends, I’ve seen firsthand how the sector’s reputation makes this work harder. Friends who work in politics have questioned my career. They don’t understand the impact, and honestly, they aren’t doing the research. Why would they? The conversation is always framed as charter versus traditional public, as if these are opposing teams rather than different approaches to the same goal.
But here’s what I’ve noticed: the one thing that actually shifts my friends’ thinking is when I talk about why parents choose these schools and who’s leading them. When I explain that many of these schools were founded by Black and Brown educators, for Black and Brown students, in communities that had been written off. When I share that families are making intentional choices because these schools see their children and hold them to high expectations. When I connect it to outcomes. That’s when skepticism turns to curiosity.
If that reframing works in my circles, it can work more broadly. But someone has to lead with it.
The Numbers Tell the Story
In Washington, DC alone, philanthropic contributions to charter schools dropped from $68.8 million in FY21 to just $34 million in FY23. That’s a 50% decline in two years. Nearly 70% of DC charter schools saw their philanthropic funding decrease. The average school lost almost $500,000 in annual support.
These aren’t abstract numbers. They represent counselors who won’t be hired, enrichment programs that won’t launch, and facility improvements that won’t happen.
But changing the narrative is possible. Over the past eight years, our firm has helped charter schools raise over $200 million. We’ve done it by telling compelling, evidence-based stories at the individual school level, by connecting donors to impact they can see and believe in. It’s harder than it used to be, but it works.
The challenge is that we’re doing this school by school, funder by funder, while the broader sector narrative works against us. And we’re not growing the tent. At the charter school event where Jed and I connected, I looked around the room and saw many of the same faces I’ve seen for years. Dedicated supporters, absolutely. But where are the new ones? Where are the donors and allies we’ve converted by changing minds?
The honest answer: we aren’t converting many. People’s opinions about charter schools are locked in, shaped by a narrative we’ve allowed others to write. Instead of expanding our base, we’re working harder and harder to keep existing supporters engaged. That’s a holding pattern, and it’s unsustainable.
What the Evidence Actually Shows
The dominant critique says charter schools succeed by extracting resources from district schools. If that were true, we’d expect district schools exposed to charter growth to get worse.
The research tells a different story.
A major review from the National Bureau of Economic Research finds that the competitive impact of charters on nearby district schools is, on average, beneficial for student achievement. In Massachusetts, lifting charter caps in low-performing districts actually increased per-pupil spending in traditional public schools and produced positive effects on non-charter students’ achievement. In New York City, charter entry improved traditional public school performance in both ELA and math.
On subgroup performance, CREDO’s National Charter School Study III (2023) finds charter students show stronger year-to-year growth than matched peers, with especially strong results for Black students (+35 days reading, +29 days math), Hispanic students (+30 days reading, +25 days math), students in poverty (+24 days reading, +20 days math), and English Learners (+29 days reading, +17 days math). The strongest results show up exactly where the political narrative is most dismissive: urban systems serving Black, Brown, low-income, and multilingual learners.
On students with disabilities, a January 2026 REACH Center study of over 1.7 million Michigan students found that those who switched to charters showed improved achievement and reduced absences, with gains tracking similarly to students without disabilities.
And Newark remains one of the strongest examples. Stanford’s CREDO study reports Newark charter students posting stronger learning gains than the state average in both reading and math. Importantly, Newark district students also performed on par with the state average, reinforcing that this is a portfolio story where a commitment to quality across school types raised outcomes for everyone.
This is the narrative we should be leading with: charter schools as contributors to stronger public education ecosystems. When we lead with this evidence, we address the root criticism directly.
The Cost of Playing It Safe
I understand the instinct to keep our heads down. In politically charged environments, celebrating wins can feel like picking a fight. We worry about offending district partners and tell ourselves that quiet, steady work will eventually speak for itself.
But our caution hasn’t bought us goodwill. It’s created a vacuum, and others have filled it.
How often do we lead with Newark? How often do we point to the Michigan research as evidence that charters serve all students well, including those with disabilities? Too often, we shrink from these examples. We rush to disclaim before we declare. We add caveats and qualifiers.
And in doing so, we forfeit the most important fundraising asset we have: proof of impact. Donors want to fund success. They want to believe their money will make a difference. When we whisper about our wins while critics shout about our failures, we make it harder for donors to say yes.
The same dynamic plays out in policy conversations. Legislators hear constant criticism of charter schools. They rarely hear, in clear and confident terms, what’s actually working. They don’t hear from the parents who chose these schools. They don’t see the data presented in accessible, compelling ways. And so they default to the narrative that’s loudest.
Our sector was designed with accountability at its core. Charter schools are supposed to open and close based on performance. That’s a feature, not a bug. We should be willing to have hard conversations about quality, about which schools are delivering results and which aren’t. That willingness to hold ourselves accountable is precisely what makes the sector credible. But we have to pair that accountability with confidence in telling the success stories.
What We Might Do Together
I want to be clear: advocacy organizations are doing essential work. Policy fights, legislation, keeping the charter sector alive in states and cities across the country. Fundraisers like me depend on that work every day. We’re on the same team, facing the same headwinds.
But from the fundraising side, I see opportunities for us to partner more effectively. Places where coordination could make a meaningful difference for schools trying to raise money and for a movement trying to grow its base of support.
Name the fear, and move through it together. One of the most dispiriting narratives in any movement is “there’s nothing we can do.” Jed has been challenging that head-on through his conversations with leaders like Brandon Brown at The Mind Trust and Howard Fuller. From my seat, I know how easy it is to say “we can’t, it’ll create backlash.” But the backlash comes anyway. The question is whether we’ll shape the story or just react to it. Fear is understandable. Paralysis is a choice.
Lead with wins that matter to families. Academic growth. Graduation rates. College persistence. Safety and belonging. Parent satisfaction. Tell the truth, repeatedly, with names, numbers, and faces. When a school posts remarkable results, amplify it. When alumni succeed, celebrate them publicly. When parents speak about what these schools mean to their families, make sure those voices reach beyond our echo chamber.
Arm fundraisers with receipts. In a skeptical environment, values without evidence get dismissed as spin. Advocacy organizations are uniquely positioned to maintain an updated library of proof points: data that withstands scrutiny, case studies that illustrate impact, myth-busting resources that address criticisms head-on. Make it easy for school leaders and fundraisers to access and share. Give us tools to make the case confidently, whether in a foundation boardroom or at a happy hour.
Reframe charters as contributors to stronger public education. Refuse to accept the “charters vs. districts” frame. That’s a fight about tribe and identity, not about kids. A better frame positions charter schools as what they are: great public schools, accountable for results, responsive to families, part of a broader ecosystem where all schools can learn from what works. Evidence shows that charter success can lift nearby district schools. Lead with that.
Build permission structures for private allies. There are elected officials, civic leaders, and donors, especially center-left, who aren’t hostile to charters. They’re just wary of the social cost of saying so. We can lower that cost by elevating authentic parent voices, celebrating cross-sector collaboration, and giving respected messengers a platform. Faith leaders, community organizations, alumni, neighborhood voices. When support for charter schools feels normal rather than courageous, more people will express it.
An Invitation
If we want philanthropic investment to flow to the sector and schools that are changing lives, we have to help create a world where funding this work feels admirable, not controversial. Where donors are proud to support charter schools. Where giving to this sector signals commitment to equity and opportunity.
We don’t need a propaganda campaign. We need moral clarity. We need receipts. We need the confidence to tell the story we already know is true.
Fundraising is downstream of narrative. And narrative is downstream of whether we’re willing to claim our wins.
The work of shifting this narrative has been happening, school by school, conversation by conversation. Let’s be more intentional about doing it together.