Nor can you force them to admit they were wrong. Because they’re, you know, rhinoceroses.

In the new/old world order of Trumpian policy, your arts organization faces the real possibility that, in the face of anti-arts, anti-education, and anti-truth political muckraking euphemistically calling itself “populism,” it will be shut down. To combat that, we need ideas to advance the truth that charity is necessary in order to deflate the tires of the oncoming rich-stomping-the-poor bus before it runs over everyone in its path. We can use our not-all-that-bully pulpit to scream that intelligence is the pinnacle, intimating that those that believe they’ve joined a winning scheme are stupid. That didn’t work during the previous four-year Carnival of Souls pretending to be a Trump presidency, and it won’t work now.

Jill Filipovic wrote about the backlash movement from the first term in her February article in Slate, aptly titled, “Can We Resist Better This Time?”
“Trump really was dangerous, and MAGA really did cost lives. That sense of urgency, though, empowered progressive actors who, though well-meaning, routinely misdiagnosed the problems at hand, stipulated a kind of ideological and often linguistic conformity, and imposed a politics of purity that pushed out rather than pulled in many could-be allies by doubling down on positions far outside of the American norm (there’s no such thing as learning loss from COVID shutdowns; shoplifting is fine; sex at birth is “assigned,” with the suggestion of methodlessness, rather than being identified through a method that proves correct for the vast majority of people on Earth). This was all ultimately alienating for a whole lot of voters and galvanizing for MAGA extremists. I’d even say it opened the door for Trump to return.”
This is part of the issue of topsy-turvy politics which we discussed in several previous articles. The left has become a group hewn toward perceived order and civility while the right hewed toward perceived freedom and incivility — all as a response to uncertainty, a pandemic, and the crescendo of the war drums. 50 years ago, the opposite was true.

In this way, we can predict the next couple of years without having to work terribly hard in doing so. There are no social guardrails at all and the feed-the-poor-to-the-rich train is careening down the tracks, with the affable nods even of those souls who believe they’ll be spared because of loyalty. The arts have been thrown out by the people who voted for a government where this particular brand of freedom holds sway. No council on the arts and humanities. Coming votes on the elimination of arts funding. Private tech trillionaires-to-be running an open shadow government with the full praise of the president do not want to hear, see, or listen to opposing views (even if they’re facts, which is becoming less and less valuable every day). As such, all they have to do is shout that they’re protecting our freedoms.
“Our,” in this case, is a generalized term meaning that which belongs — and should belong — to dominant White, Protestant, male society. I hear people discussing The Handmaid’s Tale to describe this point in history. I’m not as sure. I think that it’s closer to Ionesco’s Rhinoceros, with people rushing to a nonconforming conformity, irrespective of the likelihood of extinction.

Your arts organization can’t change the minds of rhinoceroses with reason or argument. Nor can it be mad at those same beasts by calling them stupid animals, hard-headed, or bullies. Just in case you didn’t already know, that’s what they’ll say about you if you try. They already think you’re elitist snobs. It’s just a wee baby step to insist you’re corrupting minds and have an anti-American agenda.
Snort.
People don’t generally change their minds until it is safe to do so. But in Robert Cialdini’s seminal book on persuasion, Influence, he discussed the six principles of influence: reciprocity, obligation, consistency and commitment, social proof, authority, and scarcity. Here he describes the kind of changemaking ability you will need to successfully navigate your organization’s success despite all forces working against you (note: these are the tools used by the other side as well, leading to their current hold of power):
How can you translate those ideas into power?
You may be enraged by the acts happening to concepts you hold dear. Those actions were not made to enrage you, but to act as White Knights (in all the definitions of that phrase) to those who feel victimized by having their unearned privilege taken away. They see personal acts of revenge by the White House as their own revenge. Looking at that “authority” example, the reason that the alt-right succeeds at every turn is not merely because they have autocratic authority figures. It is that those figures have convinced enough Americans that those the autocrats and the fascists are heroes. To believe that it is unthinkable to “vote against your own interests” is to ignore the idea that the voters always believe they vote for their own interests.

It’s not a matter of “fight or flight” within the stakeholders of your organization to address current perceived atrocities. Neither of those two choices will work. “Fight” might make you feel better but do nothing to change minds and “flight” is irresponsible escapist cowardice. The choice to make here is to engage with those who do not agree with you to their benefit without abdicating your principles. Be hyper-local. Become the nonprofit your community needs, not the one the nation needs. The latter too often precludes the former.
Give local voices the opportunity to have their stories told. Then, use your art to demonstrate the clear benefit to those within your community who are not represented by the storyteller. That goes for DEI programming as well as traditional, White, Christian, European-composers-whose-surname-begins-with-B programming. Be intentional about your choices and how your community tangibly benefits from your activities (and make sure you collect all that charitable data — butts in seats is not a charity metric, nor is the act of “building community” unless you can prove that this new community has somehow impacted people in tangible ways). Ask your team:
- Did we bring the work to the people or force the people to come to us?
- Did we work with one set of leaders at the expense of others (that’s a kind of elitism as well)?
- Do others see our organizational leadership as the kind of “authority” that might offer positive alternatives to the current political situation? If so, how? If not, why not?
- Did we pursue excellence (a subjective, and therefore meaningless term) or impact (a list of tangible, quantifiable positive actions catalyzed by our art)?
- Who did we help today? How did we help them?
- Why did we help them?


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