
By: Selam Kebrom, Camelback Ventures Partner
A few weeks ago, I visited some members of the Camelback Fellowship network of Alumni based in Los Angeles to see their ventures first-hand and deepen my understanding of their work — something that simply can’t be done from behind a screen or by reading reports and applications. Too often, we in the broader social-impact world talk about “ecosystems” and “capacity building” from a distance. But ecosystems aren’t abstractions; they’re made of real people who keep each other afloat when systems fail. Among the Camelback Fellows I met with, I’d like to share a bit from my experience with Hattie Mitchell and Dr. Peter Watts who reminded me what community in action looks like.
A School Reborn
As the founder of The Crete Academy, Hattie Mitchell designed an experience for learners that went beyond the classroom.
Crete’s work is deeply human. The school delivers an educational program for low-income students that meets their physical, mental and emotional needs. Guided by Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, Crete ensures that students’ basic requirements — safety, nutrition, emotional support — are met before expecting them to learn. Their Harmony Program, a cornerstone of the Crete model, connects students and families to local partners who provide everything from mental health counseling to groceries and clothing. A community market on campus allows teachers and families to both contribute and take what they need, no questions asked. Crete even provides housing for families experiencing homelessness, recognizing that stability is a prerequisite for learning.

So imagine my surprise when, during my visit, Hattie shared that her charter renewal had been denied and the school she’d spent a decade building was shuttered. That decision could have ended Crete’s story. Instead, Hattie’s rewriting it. Rather than close, she’s turning Crete into a private school serving children ages 0–6, staying true to the mission of nurturing kids and families in Crenshaw who are often ignored. Hattie’s pivot isn’t just about keeping a school open. It’s about keeping a community intact while continuing support and expanding a legacy.

It Takes A Village
Across town, Dr. Peter Watts welcomed us to Watts of Power Foundation. His work reaches far beyond what I had imagined. At the heart of Pete’s mission is a staggering fact: only 2% of teachers in the American education system are Black men. That is the result of layered barriers: Black men face the high costs of credentialing, the weight of systemic bias, and the reality that entering and staying in the teaching profession often means financial instability. Their Village Initiative exists to change that story. It is designed to help aspiring Black educators navigate and complete the pre-service pathway — to move from interest to full credentialing with the training, stability and community support needed to truly thrive in the classroom. It is also built on a simple but radical premise: that teachers should be able to live and thrive in the communities they serve.

Through a mix of affordable housing, mentorship, professional development and wellness resources, the initiative ensures that teachers can focus on what matters most: inspiring the next generation. It’s built on the recognition that caring for students begins with caring for educators because teachers can shift the trajectory of whole neighborhoods. Pete has designed a network that wraps around educators the way Hattie’s work wraps around students — affordable housing paired with mentorship and opportunities for professional growth.
Like Crete, it’s about building community stability. It’s not just about retention; it’s also about generational change because teachers in the program are also building pathways to financial stability, homeownership and rootedness in their communities.

The Partners Who Stay True
During the visit, I kept thinking about the word partnership. It’s so overused in our sector that it sometimes loses meaning. But what I saw in Los Angeles brought the word back to life. Partnership looked like local churches offering space. Small businesses donating supplies. Smalls nonprofit organizations sharing resources generously. Families volunteering time. The very partners that many funders might overlook — local companies, community organizations and faith groups — were the first to ask, “How can we help?”
These gestures weren’t about publicity; they were about shared survival and shared hope. That’s the lesson philanthropy often misses. While big capital debates “risk tolerance,” local ecosystems practice it daily. These moments carry a quiet power. The kind that comes from people who refuse to give up on their communities even when institutions falter. Policy and funding priorities shift, strategies change, new frameworks are announced. But community — messy, local, loyal community — tends to stay true.
If this resonated with you, continue the conversation with us in person at Guardian Summit! At Camelback’s annual convening of visionaries and community builders, we’ll honor the progress that has been made, share stories of transformation, and collaborate across the ecosystem to build the blueprint for the future of innovation.
