Building Dignity and Belonging Into Local Services Starts With Listening

Local programs designed to help people escape poverty often measure success in tangible terms: jobs secured, training completed, children prepared for school. But those measures tell only part of the story. Whether people feel respected, have a voice in decisions and believe they belong in their communities can also shape their ability to achieve lasting economic mobility.

That was a central message of a recent Urban Institute webinar, “Building Dignity and Belonging into Local Programs and Services,” which explored how local organizations can make those principles part of their everyday operations.

“Dignity is not something that people should have to earn through income, employment or participation in our programs,” said Myriam Hernandez Jennings, associate director at the Urban Institute’s Center for Equity and Community Impact. “It is inherent in being human and foundational to human rights.”

The discussion drew on Urban’s Upward Mobility Framework, which defines mobility through three interconnected dimensions: economic success, power and autonomy, and dignity and belonging. The framework emphasizes that earning enough to meet basic needs is necessary but not sufficient if people lack control over their lives or feel excluded from their communities.

Isabella Remor, a policy program associate at Urban, said dignity is about more than how people feel internally. It also concerns how institutions and communities treat them.

Research shows that social connections can influence economic mobility, while discrimination and experiences of disrespect can harm both mental and physical health. Those dynamics can play out in seemingly small interactions, from an intake interview to a program’s eligibility rules.

“Those things can happen at a front desk or on an intake form in a waiting room,” Remor said, describing how people can feel overlooked, underestimated or insulted.

Jennings outlined a distinction between a charity mindset and a solidarity mindset. A charity approach assumes providers know what people need and measures success by whether clients comply with program requirements. A solidarity approach asks residents what matters to them and which decisions they want to help shape.

Two examples illustrate the difference. YouthBuild, a workforce program for young people ages 16 to 24 who are out of school and work, combines job training with building affordable housing for local communities. Participants also help govern their programs through youth policy councils.

One participant told researchers, “Being here makes me feel like I am somebody.”

At Educare, an early childhood education program, parents are treated as partners and their children’s first and most important teachers. Families jointly establish expectations, and parents can take on leadership and advocacy roles.

As Jennings noted, participants in both programs have opportunities to contribute, make decisions and lead. But contribution is never a prerequisite for respect: People receiving services deserve voice, choice and dignity regardless of what they can give back.

Community leaders from Wichita, Kansas, and Memphis, Tennessee, described how those principles are shaping broader economic mobility efforts.

Ricki Ellison, vice president for talent, workforce and community engagement at the Greater Wichita Partnership, said her organization initially focused on attracting, retaining and developing talent. Its work expanded as leaders examined why people struggled to access jobs and training, including barriers involving childcare, housing and transportation.

Listening to residents also revealed that the language organizations use can unintentionally exclude the very people they want to reach. When community members interpreted “economic mobility” in different ways, the Partnership changed its approach.

Instead of asking people what economic mobility meant, Ellison said, the organization began asking, “What does moving forward look like for you?”

That more accessible question allowed residents to draw on their own experiences. Their input helped the Partnership develop a shared language around “access opportunity.”

“For me, dignity means recognizing the knowledge and experience people bring,” Ellison said. “Belonging means that they can see that their knowledge and experience has played a part in shaping the decisions that come thereafter.”

In Memphis, Seeding Success takes a similarly comprehensive approach, connecting schools, workforce programs, nonprofits and government agencies through its More for Memphis initiative.

Marshall Ogier, the organization’s director of economic development and workforce systems, said the initiative provides flexible funds to help participants overcome barriers such as transportation and housing costs. Participants can receive $2,000 to address obstacles that might otherwise derail their progress.

Interviews with participants revealed that relationships with program staff and community partners were central to their sense of belonging. Residents also valued having flexibility to address their own needs.

“We need to trust the community,” Ogier said.

Both leaders emphasized that organizations do not necessarily need substantial new funding to make progress. Wichita has gathered community input through existing neighborhood advisory meetings and school-based surveys. Memphis has used established networks of employers, educational institutions and nonprofits rather than building new structures from scratch.

The broader lesson, Jennings said, is that every interaction and program rule sends a message about who belongs and whose knowledge counts.