A Seattle charity’s anonymous donations have unexpectedly tied Meghan and Harry’s Archewell Foundation to Sean Combs’s embattled foundation. The connections revealed through public filings raise questions about the opaque world of high-profile philanthropy. It’s a reminder that even good intentions can get tangled in controversy.
In 2022, Tisbest Philanthropy, a Seattle-based outfit, quietly funneled $10,050 to Archewell and a heftier $50,000 to the Sean Combs Foundation, Daily Mail reported. This discreet operation, which uses charity gift cards to mask donor identities, shows how the elite move money while dodging scrutiny. The woke obsession with anonymity in giving might just be a shield for less noble motives.
Tisbest’s system is slick: donors buy gift cards, recipients pick a nonprofit, and the cash flows anonymously. The original donor gets a tax break without their name ever surfacing. It’s a setup that screams transparency but delivers secrecy, leaving the public to wonder who’s pulling the strings.
Archewell’s $10,050 from Tisbest in 2022-2023 wasn’t its first brush with anonymous wealth. In 2021, a Silicon Valley billionaire dropped $10 million into Archewell via another shadowy nonprofit. Meghan and Harry’s foundation thrives on these veiled contributions, proving the progressive elite love preaching openness while hiding their wallets.
Meanwhile, the Sean Combs Foundation, despite its founder’s legal woes, kept churning in 2022. It received Tisbest’s $50,000 and spent $792,833 on grants in 2023, including $10,000 to Misa Hylton’s fashion academy. Combs’s charity machine rolls on, even as he faces racketeering and trafficking charges.
Combs, arrested in Manhattan in September 2024, is on trial for serious crimes. Yet his foundation, chaired by him and managed by his sister Kiesha Combs Dent, filed its latest tax exemption form that same month. Actions have consequences, but not for the well-connected who keep their charities humming.
The Sean Combs Foundation has doled out $2.4 million in grants since 2018, fueled by $2.6 million in donations, mostly from Combs himself. In 2020, it swapped $250,000 with Jay-Z’s Shawn Carter Foundation, a cozy exchange that raises eyebrows. Quid pro quo in philanthropy isn’t charity—it’s networking with tax breaks.
In 2023, the Apollo Theatre in Harlem scored $250,000 from Combs’s foundation, announced with fanfare by treasurer Tariq Brooks. Two years earlier, Howard University got $300,000, though it later revoked Combs’s honorary degree after his 2024 assault scandal. Good deeds don’t erase bad behavior, no matter how much cash you throw around.
Combs’s grants also went to troubled institutions like Capital Preparatory Harlem Charter School, which pocketed $120,000 in 2022 despite reports of violence and dysfunction. Mount Saint Michael Academy, Combs’s alma mater, received $65,000 over the years. Loyalty to your roots is admirable, but funding failing systems smells like image-polishing.
Misa Hylton, Combs’s ex from the 1990s and mother of his 21-year-old son Justin, runs a fashion academy that got $20,000 from Combs’s foundation in 2022. “I am heartbroken that Cassie must relive the horror of her abuse,” Hylton posted on Instagram in May 2024, signaling empathy but dodging accountability. Her academy’s grants keep flowing, showing personal ties trump public scandals.
Hylton and Justin attended the first two days of Combs’s trial in May 2025, standing by him, per her lawyer. Her academy received another $10,000 in 2023, proving Combs’s foundation prioritizes family over optics. Loyalty is one thing, but funneling charity cash to your inner circle looks like self-preservation.
The foundation’s accounts, managed by Lou Taylor of Tri-Star, are under fire after a February 2025 lawsuit by Rodney ‘Lil Rod’ Jones. Jones claimed Tri Star facilitated payments to Combs’s alleged sex workers, tying the firm to his “criminal operation.” Charity should uplift, not enable, yet here we are.
With $120,538 in reserves, the Sean Combs Foundation isn’t slowing down despite its founder’s legal battles. Tisbest’s role in funneling anonymous cash to Combs and Archewell exposes how charity can cloak ulterior motives. The progressive push for discreet giving often hides more than it reveals.
Archewell’s reliance on anonymous donors, like the $10 million from a Silicon Valley titan, mirrors Combs’s opaque operations. Both foundations thrive in a system where tax-deductible generosity doubles as a veil for influence. Transparency in charity shouldn’t be a suggestion—it should be the rule.
The connections between Tisbest, Archewell, and Combs’s foundation aren’t criminal, but they’re unsettling. When the elite hide their giving, it’s not about humility—it’s about control. In a world obsessed with virtue signaling, real accountability starts with showing the receipts.
