The past couple weeks have seen a flurry of virtual activity in response to what has happened physically in streets. Arts organizations — like businesses, religious organizations and elected bodies — have made declarations on race and equity, critiqued their own past and present wrongs, and have made efforts to amplify the voices of artists and critics of color.
These are important activities — and obviously none of them are sufficient. I hope to be held accountable by my peers to do all of the above and more. As editor of loveDANCEmore (and coordinator of digest posts) I feel some peer pressure to post some kind of response to current events. But I wonder, what could I put into the world (through my own writing or even through curating writers of color) that would ultimately be more than a disingenuous performance of solidarity — without any real risk — the like of which is happening on the internet 24/7?
A related question: What do we do about the fact that arts organizations, including this one, take money from people and organizations that represent the white supremacy, violence and injustice we are all so busy decrying?
Take us for example. Ashley Anderson Dances and loveDANCEmore celebrate ten years this month. Everything we’ve done — Ashley’s body of work, dozens of Mudsons and other group shows, fifteen journals, dozens of fiscally-sponsored productions — we’ve mostly done with public money and small private donations.
That said, through personal contributions, through our board, and through partnerships with larger organizations, we’ve taken money that originated in the hands of the private prison industry and weapons manufacturers. The public money we collect comes (albeit indirectly) from the NEA and the city — from the same federal and local governments responding violently to ongoing protests against police murders. We’ve taken money from Amazon — through Amazon Smile — a company known to be uninterested in fair labor practices, employee safety or much of anything besides the bottom line.
This is true to an even greater degree for larger, more established organizations in our city, our state and across the country. To grow what we could offer in our city, the obvious thing for loveDANCEmore to do would be to acquire more foundation money — most, if not all, of which has been plundered (often violently) from vulnerable human beings, across existing racial and socioeconomic divides. We’d need that money to match what we currently receive from the city and the state and to move up through the tiers of public funding for the arts. The cycle continues and we don’t escape it, even by remaining small.
Where do you draw the line?
Is it okay to take money from rich Americans who themselves had no control over the fact that their ancestors invented machine guns, for example? If artists take money, from current robber barons, or their descendants, how does that change the art we are obligated to make? Is there any point in eschewing the money when we know other artists will take it anyway? Is it possible to do better than being the launderers of rich people’s cash?
Arts organizations are particularly vulnerable to this critique, but we are not alone in the conundrum of what to do about evil money. Perhaps we can learn from how K-12 educators, universities and non-arts non-profits succeed or fail in answering these questions. There is hope in seeing colleges divest from oil companies, private prisons and the like. There’s reason for despair in considering that schools depend on contributions from the refineries that pollute the air they breathe at recess. I don’t think we can stop making art, anymore than we can stop educating our children or raising money to put the right people in public office.
Samuel Hanson edits print and online content for loveDANCEmore and assists with other programming.