Americans for the Arts

It is of the utmost importance for this organization, and any other other that calls upon itself to embark upon this work, to get on our hands and knees in the trenches. My challenge for us all … Get to work. 

The world is in turmoil and I want to work at a place that is invested in making positive change and where the staff is committed to growing, learning, and deeply caring about each other. I hoped our staff retreat would reaffirm these characteristics of Americans for the Arts while giving me the faith I need to keep moving forward.

The world seems like an insane, frightening, and hopeless place. I’m not African American. I’m not a police officer. I’m not French or Turkish. But I am affected and my spirit is tired and sad—so, so sad.

You’ve got to have an open mind. You’ve got to be honest with people. Until that happens, nothing is going to work. We’re going to always be divided. 

Everyone has to be part of the change. We have an obligation not to just sit and complain. If you’re not part of the process, you can’t complain about the outcome. I was one of the skeptics—I questioned often, “Is this real?” And in seven years, I’ve watched this place change and then go back, move forward and then fall back. But this time feels different.

We are, with this post, launching our first ever blog salon populated by posts from across the staff of Americans for the Arts. As part of our broader work on cultural equity, and our ongoing commitment to being transparent about the internal process we’re going through to become a more equitable organization, we invited our colleagues to reflect on what it means to work toward cultural equity.

When we propose to contribute toward making a place more healthy, equitable, and vibrant, we should be in and of the community—but not saving the people in it. 

Like most urbanized parts of the U.S., Boston’s demographics have changed dramatically in the last 30 years and so has tone of conversation. Anyone who attended this year’s Americans for the Arts conference could see and feel the change. 

“All the arts, all the people” has been our steadfast declaration about equitable access to the transformative power of the arts. It is an aspirational phrase—and one we all must strive to meet.

Americans for the Arts cannot grow if we all look alike, think alike, see alike, smell alike. We need the different perspectives. And it starts with helping our hiring managers buying into this idea that we’re broadening, improving.

Edgar Smith, Chairman and CEO of World Pac Paper, LLC and BCA Executive Board Chair, gave closing remarks at a recent discussion on cultural equity and the arts, and the role that business leaders play in advocating for both the role of arts and the need for diversity in all aspects of the creative and business worlds. 

The shooting in Orlando is horrible, full stop. The invasion, the breaking of the space, the wrenching away of the core creative life of not just those 50 people who died but the 250 other people who were there—and, in a lesser way, of all of us who once found our solace in gay spaces—is where the howl emerges from me.

“Our people can’t live without hula and hula cannot live without our people. Both of them need to continue along with all of our other cultural practices." Read on for a thoughtful, illuminating conversation between two native Hawaiian cultural practitioners who are keeping sacred traditions alive in their daily life, work, and advocacy.

I've been listening to the audiobook of Shonda Rhimes' Year of Yes, which includes a recording of her amazing speech at the Human Rights Campaign Gala in 2015. In this speech she talks about how she sees her work as "normalizing" rather than diversifying. She is showing us the world we actually live in, not the whitewashed world we're used to seeing on television (in film, in theatre, etc.).

YES!

Figuring out where to start measuring progress towards equity can be a daunting task. Honestly, any evaluation can be overwhelming when the need is great, the resources are scarce and every outcome is critically important.

But here’s the thing: without evaluation, you will never know whether you’ve made a difference. If you don’t baseline to know where you started, how will you know that what you’re doing is improving things? For that matter, unless you determine what it is you’re trying to change, how will you even know that the change you’re seeing is an improvement?

Institutional and cultural change is slow and doesn’t come easy. In my experience there are two art worlds. The one I have lived in for over a decade that is inclusive, creative, queer, DIY, and POC centered. In this world we support each other and produce interesting and challenging art exhibitions in creative, nontraditional spaces.

And then there is the other one, the white male dominated world that reinforces and creates reasons to bar entry to the rest of us.

Cultural equity. Two simple words with seemingly clear, every day meanings. Merriam-Webster confirms the plainness of these words. Cultural: "Of or relating to a particular group's habits, beliefs, traditions, etc.," or "of or relating to the fine arts (such as music, theater, painting, etc.)" And equity: "justice or fairness in the way people are treated, " or "freedom from bias or favoritism." So putting these words together, we've got a concept that speaks about fairness and justice in the realm of arts and culture, about the arts treating people without bias or favoritism.

The Statement on Cultural Equity being released by Americans for the Arts addresses this issue of fairness and justice in the arts in a beautifully simple and straightforward way. Fairness is something we value as Americans, and yet injustice is rife within our nation, and the same power structures that perpetuate inequity in the larger society are present in the cultural sector. We shouldn't be surprised by this and yet, quite often, we are. Aren't we, as workers in the arts, all liberal-minded, good people?

Access to the arts builds and strengthens community.

Innovative access to the arts can transform communities by creating new venues and opportunities for artists while also offering opportunities for community members to collaborate and engage—providing a platform for preserving the authentic voice and character of their community through creativity.

In the decades of my arts learning career, I have encountered inequities everywhere I go. In just the week I write this, I have been addressing inequities in the number of musicians of color in U.S. orchestras, in the provision of arts performances in rural areas, in the funding for different kinds of arts groups, and in the persistent preponderance of white teaching artists serving communities of other races.  

There have been long chunks of my career when I "saw" the persistently gross inequities and biases in and around arts organizations, but without really seeing them because I was so intent on other priorities like the quality of the work of teaching artists, fulfilling the purpose of arts education programs, the effectiveness of partnering.  I am not proud that during those years of prioritizing other issues, I was complicit in that unfairness.

In 2015, Americans for the Arts partnered with the National Endowment for the Arts to conduct the Local Arts Agency Census, the most comprehensive survey of the local arts agency (LAA) field to date. More than 1,000 LAAs responded to the survey on topics ranging from budgets and financial outlook to specifics about their programs and services.

In order to more clearly see the work ahead of our field in terms of diversity we included questions about board and staff demographics, diversity initiatives in LAA programs, and about formal diversity policies. The answers we received paint a complex picture, but in general, the demographic composition of LAAs show that as a field, we can do better in representing all our constituents.

This essay is cross-posted on Linda Essig’s blog, Creative Infrastructure

There’s a line in Alfred Uhry’s play Driving Miss Daisy that has stuck with me for the last 30 years. In response to a well-meaning, but misguided (and forgotten) comment by Daisy, an elderly, White, Jewish, southern widow, to Hoke, her equally elderly Black chauffeur, Hoke replies, “How do you know what I see unless you can look out of my eyes.” I heard the play at least 50 times over several years serving as its associate lighting designer on numerous companies but that is the only line I remember today. I remember it because it is foundational to the development of my personal ethic of cultural equity. In one way or another, Hoke’s reminder that we all have unique, individual, and valuable perspectives formed by unique, individual, and valuable lives informs the way I interact with students, colleagues, board members, artists, neighbors, and all the other people with whom I interact who neither look like me nor believe what I believe.

“To support a full creative life for all, Americans for the Arts commits to championing policies and practices of cultural equity that empower a just, inclusive, equitable nation.”

This week, Americans for the Arts released this statement along with a detailed explanation of how it came into being, and why it’s important. You can find all the details here. I was pleased to be one of the 150 participants who gave input on the statement, helping craft a message that is in line with my work in the arts and arts education–to make the arts accessible to everyone, regardless of race, gender or socioeconomic circumstances.

Cultural equity is a significant charge for every arts organization to strive for in their work. The choral community that I work in is committed to expanding its diversity, including language, ethnicity, race, and religion, as well as crosscutting characteristics such as gender, sexual orientation, and range of ability and age. Choruses are building community from the inside out, focusing on the rehearsal room as a first step to building a healthy and vibrant arts organization that can create a feeling of community for its audiences and beyond.

But where does cultural equity begin in a field that attempts to be intentionally inclusive, rather than unintentionally exclusive?

I've been asked to write something about the Americans for the Arts statement on Cultural Equity. First, thanks for asking. I believe statements like this are important to set a tone—to set a standard by which we create a core set of values necessary to create a society that honors and respects the differences we all possess. I will also say that these are my thoughts; I've learned that I can only speak for myself and much of what I want to say is food for thought, something to consider.

I am a member of a historically underrepresented group. I am disabled. I say that with pride in my identity, something that I was not always able to say. I also have to say that I sometimes get a bit frustrated by the dialogues that seem to be continuing but not always moving at the speed I'd like to see it move at and especially for not always including members of my 'peeps' in the discussion.

Statement: a definite or clear expression of something in speech or writing. 

I am a mother of three beautiful bi-racial children; what that also means is that I am a woman and I am Mexican. I am a Libra. I am an employee of Americans for the Arts. I am a warrior. And I get a little scared sometimes. Once I got over the initial shock of being asked to write a blog about the newly released Statement on Cultural Equity—I panicked—full anxiety attack panic. Then I took a breath and I said yes. I was honored and humbled and terrified. What if I felt the "wrong" thing? What if I said the wrong thing? What if I didn't believe in or resonate with the statement despite knowing what was going into the writing of it and why it was happening? After getting the invitation to write a blog, I read the statement over and over—reflected on it and about it—spoke with friends and family about my struggles with inequity—workshopped phrasing and concepts and ideas...then on a flight to New Mexico—I opened my laptop to write…

I grew up as a white kid in the middle class—and rather racially homogenous—suburbs.  My father is a minister (as were his father and his grandfather), and the lessons embedded in the biblical teachings of “love thy neighbor” were taken to heart in our house.  My values were shaped to include service, fairness, and the responsibility to help others, particularly those in need.  From an early age, I also was aware of the inequities that existed between races, and I sensed that people of color hadn’t gotten a fair shake.  But I truly believed that, if I loved my neighbor as myself, and if I ensured that my neighbor was given an equal chance to succeed, things would change.

In regards to the America for the Arts Statement on Cultural Equity, I have no problem with the statement. It's earnest. I give it a passing grade with room for improvement assessment. My question, however: where's the muscle in the statement that may inspire the cultural field to take on it biggest challenge, racial equity in our sector?

Some contextual information that informs my assessment:

The topics of diversity, equity, and inclusion have gained momentum and are now positioned at the forefront of many conversations among organizations and arts administrators. From research reports to Twitter chats, from conference workshops to inter-office training sessions, members of the field have accepted the challenge of adapting to our country’s demographic changes and to adopting the language to improve how we engage diverse communities—as audiences and as employees.

However, despite these progressive and much needed efforts of equity and inclusion of diverse communities I am concerned. As a person of color, I am excited to see these topics become organizational priorities, but in many instances these efforts seem more suited as the step-sibling of “outreach” and “community engagement” rather than a conscious shift in organizational culture.

When we talk about cultural equity in the arts, it's natural to think of the word "inclusiveness." Of course we want to pursue increased diversity, and we want to provide marginalized populations with better access to the tools and opportunities they need to fully live their best creative lives.

Inclusiveness is great. But we also need to remember that, for meaningful cultural equity, we're talking about far more than art. We're talking about the reclamation of culture itself.

When I was asked to write a response to the Americans for the Arts Statement on Cultural Equity, my immediate reaction was that I know so many other artists and activists whose thoughts I would rather see in this space than mine. I still feel that way. But I also know that people with a significant amount of historical, societal privilege (mine happen to be that I’m white, cisgender, currently non-disabled, a U.S. citizen, grad-level educated, etc.) need to speak up in support of equity and justice. Silence supports the way things are, and I’m deeply committed to helping change that.

It’s essential that I acknowledge that my views below have formed over time by learning from many people whose words I’ve encountered at gatherings and meetings, in books, on screen, online, over email, over a shared meal, or mixed with late-night drinks. I’m deeply indebted to you all.