A two-part column about you, your nonprofit arts company, and the power of your choices
(Continued from last week)
Last week, we talked about people-pleasing. I urge you to read that piece before this one.
Among the two choices we utilize as humans in unconscious reaction to dissonance, attack, or unreasonable pressure is the idea of “fight.” If you’re on the job, proud of your work, relatively self-assured in the plans you have for the company, and can find “your people” from your local, regional, and national people – and you know exactly who they are – you may choose this option.
“It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile/Be yourself no matter what they say” (Sting, 1987)
Let’s say that you’re from outer space and you’re radically intelligent. You present as human, except for that aqua-green hue of the skin on your elbows.
You’ve gained knowledge, experience, and great acclaim as a collaborative artist working in the theater in America. You’re well-known for your affinity to produce stories about those whose histories have been left untold.
A financially flailing organization, run badly by alleged sexual predators on both sides of its leadership executive perch, one allegedly drunk and the other allegedly making sure that no one ever sues, has hired a couple of well-intended artistic directors to mostly abject, dismal failure (because they were hired to do exactly what their predecessors had done, except without the backstage drama) and is seeking a new direction, or so they say.
The search committee, led by board members, wants to be seen as leaders in the country in all progressive senses. They hire you, knowing your background, your goals, and your affinity to serve the people instead of serving the art. You’ve told them dozens of times that the art doesn’t need to be served, but there are a whole lot of people in this region that do, and this charitable organization can do exactly that.
You radically want to change the purpose of this nice medium-sized arts company. Seeing that decades of well-worn White/Eurocentric worship in a gilded, Puritan bubble has separated the company from its own community (not the donor community, the whole community), you have predictably chosen a path that includes not only these untold stories, but brings them to the people instead of forcing those same people who have experienced trauma from those same Puritans that dominated your company’s history. You start taking your plays out of the hallowed theater building, with or without sets, straight to community centers, under overpasses for communities of the unhoused, into neighborhood recreation centers and gyms, to lobbies of Section 8 housing, and to colleges and universities nearby whose students are tired of revering dead, White, European artists.
Your work and your plans garner a gift from a national foundation of $1,000,000 for the company – not because of its past work or reputation, but because you have founded a future movement to tell these particular stories and prove the impact in charitable metrics (not just artistic attractiveness).
Regardless of the gift, the board is pissed off. Even those with progressive backgrounds are somewhere between puzzled and horrified by the new version of the company. You have acted as you always have, as you always will, and there is a great deal of good that will follow. Sure, your organization will likely lose some of the gilded Puritans from its stakeholder base. They will wail about how the company “isn’t meant for us,” which will be repeated not only to you, but in secret meetings with board members behind your back. They won’t consider the fact that in its first several decades, the city and county in which your theater has existed has, in effect, told 98% of its citizens that its art “isn’t meant for you.”
So, you suffer the ignorance and soberly engage in the battle. After all, you have the facts. You have the moral high-ground. You expose the intrigue. You expose the previous alleged sexual predatory acts of those whose names are lionized within the walls of the structure. You fight. Your contract is beautifully written to protect you.
Your detractors consider you a narcissist, interested in your well-being ahead of the company’s. This astonishes you, because you believe that, as a group, they are doing that very thing. And you both might be right, even if they’re completely acting out of bigotry against green-elbowed beings and insist on plunging the company into the final puddles of a drying oasis.
It’s difficult to maneuver your craft when the lake has more alligators than water. In this case, the ending is unknown, but with lawyers lined up on both sides, the best thing to do is to continue to do the right work. No matter what. And if they choose to close the place down, that’s on them, not on you. After all, you’re doing exactly what a charitable organization is supposed to do. Let the companies led by the Puritans serve their kind. It’s unsustainable in 2024.
Serve the people. Especially those who have been so greatly un-served. It’s more important to lift a community and close down than to serve bigots and stay open, because no matter how much you hope that things will change, they won’t. Hope is not a strategy. Choose greatness over survival, no matter how much it hurts. Aspirational greatness feels a hell of a lot better than fruitless people-pleasing.
THIS FRIDAY! ONE NIGHT ONLY!
If you’re in the Atlanta region or within a day’s drive, come and see Ariel Fristoe of the world-renowned Out Of Hand Theater and me talk at Charis Books and More. We’ll have some news, there will be a presentation from Out Of Hand about health equity (and the lack thereof), and we’ll talk about why companies like Out Of Hand “get it” about the purpose of local arts organizations serving the folks who need help the most. Mostly, we’ll have a lively conversation about the purpose of art, toxic stakeholders, and how nonprofit arts organizations are charities, just like your local food bank.
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