The lowest common denominator: Washington’s Community Reinvestment Project discontinued

By April Eberhardt The Black Lens

The recent budget freeze from the federal government, combined with state-level budget cuts, is sandwiching social justice initiatives between a rock and a hard place. One of the most significant casualties is the defunding of Washington’s Community Reinvestment Project (CRP), a program initially funded with $200 million under former Gov. Jay Inslee. This initiative aimed to address the historical harm done to Black and Brown communities, particularly those affected by the war on drugs and targeted policing.

Virla Spencer, co-founder of The Way To Justice shares that the program is not being continued, with a remaining $87,000 to carry out critical restorative programming.

The CRP was designed to provide opportunities for economic mobility and social stability to those who have historically been marginalized. This included funding for workforce development, reentry programs, legal aid, first-time homebuyer assistance, and small business support. Many viewed it as a form of reparations, a crucial step in addressing systemic inequities that have persisted for generations.

Spencer knows how vital this programming is in the Black community. When the program was first introduced in 2022, she shares that the expectation was that unspent funds from the initial two-year allocation would roll over into future budgets. Despite more than half of the original funds remaining, the state government has decided not to reinvest in the program; effectively dismantling the progress that has been made over the last 16 months.

“So when they issued out the $200 million, it was over a two year course that we had time to be able to spend this money, not even to mention that, eight months into it, is when they started rolling out the funds,” Spencer said. “So, we really never had a full two years to be able to try to spend down this money. Now we are almost done in June 2025. And probably more than half of the money is still there.”

According to a Feb. 6 article in the Washington State Standard, newly elected Gov. Bob Ferguson will veto any state budget bill that does not include $100 million for hiring additional law enforcement.

“The idea doesn’t sit well with Black members of the state Legislature,” the article reads. “So when they met with Ferguson and his aides last week, they said if there’s going to be $100 million to beef up the ranks of law enforcement, there should be at least as much to shore up social services and other supportive programs in communities.”

Rep. Kristine Reeves, D-Federal Way, who chairs the 14-member Washington Legislative Black Caucus, of which newly elected Rep. Natasha Hill is now a member, shared in the Standard, “We want to make it clear that we are equally prepared to have hard conversations about how we prioritize community investments.” The Caucus is making the case to resupply the funds for the depleted CRP.

Discontinuing the CRP is just one example of the broader austerity measures being implemented at both state and federal levels. Many nonprofits that rely on federal funding are now scrambling to find alternative sources of support.

This move by Gov. Ferguson has raised concerns given the history of excessive force and systemic racism within policing institutions. Additional compounding questions are: Who will be hired in law enforcement, will there be positive representation? Will police misconduct be uprooted and dismantled? What avenues towards justice will be implemented in disenfranchised populations? What measures will be done to decriminalize poverty? What does accountability look like for law enforcement as the idea of immunity has already been threatened within the national narrative? There are dangerous historical parallels here.

Underscored is the double standard of how resources are allocated with working-class and marginalized communities bearing the brunt of budget cuts. This is not just a Black issue – this is a class issue, with poor people as the lowest common denominator. The result? A humanitarian crisis that will lead to stagnation and decline.

Camerina Zorrozua, also a co-founder of the Way To Justice, echoes Spencer’s sentiments. Programs that help people reintegrate into society, secure housing, and find stable employment are disappearing, while policies that criminalize poverty are gaining momentum. The presence of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Customs and Border Protection (CBP) in schools, churches, and hospitals is another alarming development, increasing the vulnerability of immigrant communities and those with minor criminal records. Zorrozua expressed concern about the disruption all the recent upheaval is having on communities. The Way To Justice works directly with people who have low level offenses.

“People living in poverty who may have shoplifting on their record; they’ve been here for years and suddenly this criminalization is making them subject to removal,” Zorrozua said. “I’m afraid that we’re going to create a whole new bucket of harms, right?”

Spencer and Zorrozua are calling for the BIPOC community to take action. For many, this moment is a continuation of historical patterns. Every time marginalized communities make progress, systemic forces work to reverse those gains, and the end goal remains the same: the erasure and deprioritization of marginalized communities under the pretense of fiscal responsibility.

The widening wealth divide highlights a double standard in how economic burdens are distributed. While the wealthiest continue to accumulate resources, working-class individuals face increasing barriers to upward mobility. Government decisions that gut public services while protecting elite interests reinforce class stratification. Systems working in tandem to thwart upward mobility of the most vulnerable are nothing new and complacency is a luxury.

Change will require collective action. The active involvement of allies who are not directly impacted will help move the needle. Whether through grassroots activism, policy advocacy, or direct intervention, the fight for equity must be relentless. We are in a battle over who is deemed worthy of investment and protection.

Spencer’s sense of urgency for those who believe in justice commands our attention: “Even with all the uncertainty, the call to action is, one, that we stand in solidarity with each other. Not only do we stand in solidarity with each other, but we put our money where our mouth is. That means moving resources, that means whatever it is that you can give to organizations doing this work, then give it. That means that we get together in a space and a place to be able to say ‘no more. We are not going back.’

“We need to be able to support each other in whichever capacity that we will. We have to hold the government accountable, we cannot continue to move forward without holding them accountable. The call to action is: Will you stand with us to be able to do that?“