Whether or not we can name them, we all function from a set of values. From when we’re young they get passed down from our caretakers and life experiences. However, as adults we can be more intentional. We are empowered to think about the person we aspire to be and align our values accordingly. Our core values should not be relegated to a page in a shelved binder or a forgotten annual report. Use them as a tool to navigate your leadership as an arts administrator during this pivotal moment in history. While we create new avenues for arts and culture engagement in this changing landscape, our individual and institutional core values will light our paths towards new solutions and new ways of being as arts practitioners, participants, and leaders.

Developing a pricing strategy in the arts requires as much art as it does arithmetic. And both parts are equally important. After all, the value of a creator’s work isn’t in the cost of the raw materials. It is in the experience, the expertise, and the skill added to those raw materials. And it is in the feelings, emotions, and experiences that affect the reader, or the viewer, or the audience member. But there is no math formula for that. There is no explicit mark-up percentage that captures emotion. It is subjective. So, I’m giving you permission to ignore math—not forever, and not completely, but just for a bit while we talk about a pricing framework to capture more than just the math.

For systemic change to take place, anti-oppression work compels us to examine our organizational core values and how they’re manifest in our processes, in order to critically identify where there are gaps to be filled. These gaps are then addressed by examining how we’re allocating our time, resources, and power to build our staff, board, communities, and audiences. More significantly, anti-oppression work requires us to fill these gaps through staffing, curatorial, and artistic choices that advance inclusivity and representation in order to address racial injustices. Anti-oppression work looks like a life-long commitment to equity, diversity, and inclusion; it is a continuous process of active learning in which artists and arts leaders pursue change, while leaving a map for those who are doing the work with us, to ensure that this work is sustained and remains constant.

As a queer, North Korean immigrant whose family has been displaced from our native land for three generations, Andrea Smith’s framework of the “Heteropatriarchy and Three Pillars of White Supremacy” helped me understand how my own experiences as a perpetual Other (and potential “terrorist threat” from the Axis of Evil) is connected to a larger system of white supremacy. Therefore, to fully pursue our company’s artistic mission of creating a culture of peace and nonviolence, I searched for ways to align our company’s work with ongoing efforts to attain racial justice, while decolonizing my practice within arts and cultural institutions. But how does this framework become activated into something practical and real? How does one create cultural change? How do I affirm my relationships to others, to the land I stand upon, and honor my interdependence with our collective struggles? 

As an arts lawyer, I often advise on a variety of copyright issues. Many artists realize copyright law is crucial to protecting the value of their work, but beyond that, the details of how exactly to use copyright gets lost in the shuffle. I’m hopeful this post will clear up some common areas of confusion! Copyright is an intellectual property right, or an intangible, nonphysical right. Put another way, copyright is separate and distinct from the personal property right to a physical work of art. Fortunately, copyright protection is easy to obtain: As soon as you create a work of art, that work is automatically protected by copyright! The key here is that, for your work to be protected by copyright, it must be “fixed in a tangible medium of expression.” In other words, your work must be committed to some tangible, perceivable, reproducible form. This “fixation” is required because copyright protects the expression of an idea, not simply the idea itself.

“How do I know my value?” That was a question posed by an artist in a recent workshop around Artists Statements, and if you stop for a moment, the question is profound. On one hand, there is a practical answer, one that we at Springboard for the Arts have been seeking to help artists answer for years. In our Work of Art: Business Skills for Artists curriculum, there is a whole section on pricing your work. You, as the artist, have to know what your target income is from your creative work, what the costs of your materials and labor are, what your overhead costs are. It takes research, and yes, you’ll have to do some math. But that question of value is even more than knowing how to price your work and where it might fit in to your market and economy. The question of value is inherently one about belonging and identity, and about being seen for the work you do.

The 2019 National Arts Marketing Project Conference in Miami, FL was my first arts administration conference and I had a wonderful time! As an individual artist cultivating diverse audiences as well as an entrepreneur serving clients across the arts ecosystem, #NAMPC was the most ideal professional development for both my artistic and administrative growth. 

Content presented by the Institute of Financial Wellness for the Arts (IFWA).

As arts professionals, we value the importance of exploration, play, and experimentation—these are vital to the creative process. At the same time, as professionals, we also know that the key to success for any creative venture depends on taking action—and that requires discipline and a plan. Not unsurprisingly, a large number of artists and arts professionals tend to be more impulsive and less strategic when it comes to managing their finances. Some of this is a long-standing cultural misconception—believing (incorrectly) that artistic endeavors ought to be unencumbered by financial realities—and some of this is circumstantial: a lack of access to educational resources or sound financial advice. At The Institute of Financial Wellness for the Arts, we’ve spent a lot of time understanding the unique financial challenges and constraints that arts professionals face. Here are some of the strategies and tips our financial coaches come back to time and time again. 

Content presented by the Institute of Financial Wellness for the Arts (IFWA).

If you’re an employee of Veterans United Home Loans, one of the “100 Best Companies to Work For” on Fortune magazine’s 2019 list, you might be invited to a crawfish boil or a party “welcoming the seventh employee named Emily to a department.” Hilton, the hotel company, provides massage chairs for workers on break. And many companies routinely offer stock bonuses for innovative ideas. But for arts organizations operating on lean budgets, those employee perks are impractical. Young actors, dancers, musicians, and arts staffers have more pressing needs than crawfish boils, and one of the aims of the Institute of Financial Wellness for the Arts (IFWA), launched in 2018 and expanding nationally this year, is to provide advice on handling money to artists of all stripes.

“What is justice?” In my first year of college, I had a research assignment to choose a case study related to this question. I wrote about the need to increase equitable access to arts education in the United States as a means for social justice, and used resources from Americans for the Arts for my research. With previous experience as a visual arts student as well as an art teacher for students from underserved schools in the Washington, D.C. area, I knew the transformative power that the arts could have to empower individuals and communities. My classmates were eager during my presentation to hear more about the case for the arts as a matter of social justice, as many of them reflected that they had never thought about arts in the context of social impact or equity. Since then, I have wanted to be an advocate for the arts wherever I go, knowing that it is so intertwined with issues of equity and social justice. I have pursued ways to integrate my interests in the arts with my professional goals of advocacy and related communications fields. This summer, I had the perfect opportunity to integrate my interest in the arts with my professional goals as the Marketing and Communications intern at Americans for the Arts.

This summer, 24 Diversity in Arts Leadership interns from all over the country are working at arts nonprofits in New York City, New Jersey, and Des Moines, Iowa for ten weeks to explore and build skills in arts administration and leadership. This series will feature our DIAL NYC cohort in two parts. Six interns are profiled here and in a previous post, six more! For 27 years, Americans for the Arts has been hosting the DIAL internship program as an investment in a more equitable arts management field. Special thanks to DIAL interns Kadiatou Balde, Andrea Lewis, and Carlos Nuñez for writing, curating, and taking photos for this post!

This summer, 24 Diversity in Arts Leadership interns from all over the country are working at arts nonprofits in New York City, New Jersey, and Des Moines, Iowa for ten weeks to explore and build skills in arts administration and leadership. This series will feature our DIAL NYC cohort in two parts. Six interns are profiled here and in a later post, six more! For 27 years, Americans for the Arts has been hosting the DIAL internship program as an investment in a more equitable arts management field. Special thanks to DIAL interns Kadiatou Balde, Andrea Lewis, and Carlos Nuñez for writing, curating, and taking photos for this post!

In early May 2019, I had the honor of being one of 75 participants of the Spring 2019 American Express Leadership Academy (AELA). I gathered with others from across the country to explore our own personal strengths and weaknesses as leaders, and to collaborate on strategies to take that information and be better. Towards the end of the week, we each met for 90 minutes with an executive coach who’d reviewed all of our assessments, self-reflection, and organization information. We also began to reflect on how we could practically use our epiphanies and discoveries. The experience was incredible. Never before have I been afforded the luxury of three and a half days to focus on myself, not just myself in the context of the work I do. The information I received allowed me to ruminate on what I was learning and how it specifically impacts leadership in the field of arts education—and what I can pass on to my colleagues in the field.