The kids were shopping at a General Mills store, but there wasn't a Cheerio or a Yoplait in sight.
Eight-year-old Shardai Hall was picking out "something nice" -- earrings and a necklace -- for her grandmother, along with a toiletry set for her mom and a picture frame for her dad.
Emoni Jones-Slaughter found a purse. "It's for my mom," she explained. "I love my mom." Other kids, ages 5 to 12, found bath towels, tools, wallets and other personal gifts to choose from.
The Christmas-season "store" was held at Perspectives Inc., a children's and family social service agency in St. Louis Park. The kids, who otherwise might not be able to afford gifts for their caregivers, shopped one-on-one with General Mills volunteers, who also donated gifts.
It's a small part of an old, large and far-flung corporate philanthropy that is full of contrasts. From a suburban headquarters campus, General Mills Inc. marshals support for inner-city causes. It boasts a top-down commitment that elicits a bottom-up employee response. Its philanthropy traces its roots to an industrial tragedy.
And in recent years, the company has found a way to boost its giving by millions of dollars through cause-related marketing.
General Mills and its foundation reported giving away $57.6 million in cash nationally and internationally for the fiscal year that ended last spring and another $21 million in product donations.
The Golden Valley-based food manufacturer is the state's ninth- or 10th-largest corporation, with about $20 billion in market capitalization and about $12.4 billion in 2007 revenue. But among Minnesota companies, the only apparently larger donor is Target, which declines to report cash contributions separately.
Minnesota foundations and corporations donate more than $1 billion a year in cash, about 20 percent of all charitable contributions, the Minnesota Council on Foundations estimates.
The top 25 foundations and corporations donate perhaps 60 percent of that, and grants among those 25 grew by 9 percent, driven by private, community and tribal giving. New to the list, at No. 17: The WEM Foundation of the MacMillan family, which has ties to Cargill Inc. The foundation's increase was driven largely by appreciation of company stock.
Total giving among the large corporate donors was stagnant. But more than 200 companies were honored this month by the 31-year-old Keystone Program of the Minneapolis Regional Chamber of Commerce for giving 2 percent or 5 percent of pretax profits in cash, products and services.
That included 11 new members this year. (One charter member, the Star Tribune, dropped out; its foundation assets remained with the McClatchy Co. after the Sacramento, Calif.-based chain sold the Minneapolis newspaper to Avista Capital Partners in March.)
Keystone winner
General Mills won the Keystone program's large company award, and Bill King, president of the Council on Foundations, said the corporation has "done such a great job. In the last several years, they've captured a comprehensive view [of citizenship] that includes all the resources of the company."
The company long has had a retiree volunteer program and also enlists outside volunteers such as Minnesota Twins great Tony Oliva to present a Minneapolis school fitness message. When Oliva gave his message in English and then repeated it in Spanish, a lot of "faces just lit up," said Ellen Goldberg Luger, the foundation's executive director.
A snapshot of the General Mills philanthropy shows:
• More than 78 percent of employees volunteer.
• For nine years, General Mills has topped annual giving to the Greater Twin Cities United Way (matching contributions from its 5,000 Twin Cities area employees to produce a record combined $7 million this year).
• It also gives smaller one-time grants. Under its four-year-old Celebrating Communities of Color program, for instance, it granted $10,000 each to 50 Twin Cities nonprofits and schools this month for such programs as health, nutrition, homework help, literacy, even engineering. "You open up possibilities for so many organizations," said Chris Shea, the foundation's president.
The company brings in nationally known business consultants for employees, and four times a year somehow persuades them to donate a half-day for a nonprofit leadership forum. "It's a unique, real training resource," said Steve Sanger, who retired as General Mills chief executive this fall. "I love this idea."
Accident led to philanthropy
General Mills officials trace their giving to Cadwallader Washburn, a co-founder and philanthropist who left money in the 1880s for an orphanage to care for children of employees killed when the company's riverfront mill exploded. (That organization became today's Washburn Center for Children.)
The company long has focused philanthropy on food, fitness, social services and education. But there were concerns that the commitment might diminish a half dozen years ago when General Mills swallowed Pillsbury Co., which also was known for its charitable giving. That didn't happen.
In fact, the company, which used to give 2 percent of pretax profits, began giving 5 percent in 2000. The increase was driven by marrying contributions and "strategic marketing," using such programs as Box Tops for Education and yogurt lids to fight breast cancer. The company says parents and teachers have clipped enough box coupons during the past 11 years to provide more than $200 million to help 90,000 schools.
Some in philanthropic circles have long complained that such "cause-related marketing" focuses donations disproportionately to popular causes. But it works, and it generates an estimated $7 billion a year in corporate charity, Dwight Burlingame, an Indiana University expert, told the Associated Press.
Something else that works is General Mills' hands-on leadership commitment, according to King of the foundations council. He recalls Reatha Clark King (no relation), the retired General Mills Foundation president, "literally pulling coffee and doughnuts out of the back of her car" for the Hawthorne Huddle, the neighborhood forum she started in north Minneapolis.
At Perspectives, where General Mills meals division president Jim Murphy is on the board, company volunteers were asked to paint one room but ended up painting half the interior of the 22,000-square-foot building. General Mills people, said volunteer Ruth Barnes, "are such overachievers."
Staff writer Patrick Kennedy contributed to this report.
Robert Franklin covered philanthropy for the Star Tribune for 20 years before retiring in March. He is a senior adjunct faculty member at the University of St. Thomas.
