A Halloween poem for the nonprofit arts leaders among you. Laugh at your own peril.
With apologies to the Poes.
Once upon a desk so dusty, while I called a sixteenth trustee,
All about a new donation that would keep open our door—
While I wept and gave a holler, “Oh, why can’t we raise a dollar?”
And the tightness of my collar made me sweat profusely more.
So I wiped my brow with Kleenex, but I sweat profusely more,
Sweating bullets, nothing more.
Was it August or November? Oh that’s right, it was December;
And the year-end donor campaign still was struggling to its core.
Numerous solicitations had caused donors to lose patience,
And with lack of revenue, there was a deficit in store.
While I cut the budget down, alas a deficit in store.
Cut and cut, and nothing more.
As I raised my head in terror, I could see a message bearer,
Walking in? But no, he floated! Floated in my office door.
“Who?” said I, as in a spell, “But who are you?” and “What the hell?”
And the bearer? He said nothing. Just sat down and nothing more.
He looked at me disgustedly, and then did nothing more.
Only this and nothing more.
Then, he stared at me a while with a sly, ironic smile,
“Hey, can’t you see I’m busy???” thus I rumbled with a roar.
“Oh, our company is failing and we don’t know what is ailing;
The art we do is excellent, just as it was before!”
Still he sat there, mute and puzzling, just as he had done before.
He just sat, and nothing more.
As inside my rage was brewing—oh, what was this bastard doing?
“Would you go?” I asked him brusquely, and then pointed to the door.
He nodded, slowly rising, and it wasn’t that surprising,
That he handed me the scroll to read—I dropped it on the floor.
He clucked his tongue, and pointed to the scroll upon the floor.
He clucked, and nothing more.
Presently, my will grew stronger, hesitating then no longer
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I am struggling, and so weirdly you came smuggling
In a scroll that’s scarcely relevant to work I’ve done before,”
Still he floated, growing larger than he’d ever been before.
Larger still, and nothing more.
As I stared upon the scroll, I watched it shake and then unroll,
And I then looked down and read the words revealed upon that floor.
The words there numbered three, and were clearly meant for me,
The very purpose of our mission, and what we were fighting for,
What was it we determined that we all were fighting for?
We’d forgotten from before.
The first word there was “charity,” that we should provide parity
To people who are struggling under homelessness and more.
I said, “We are a charity,” but now with foggy clarity,
I recognized our charity was to ourselves, in store.
Was our mission just directed to ourselves, in store?
“We do art and nothing more.”
Then “impact” was inscribed and its meaning was implied
To mean that measuring our value changed from what it was before.
“We don’t do social work,” said I, knee in extended jerk,
And recognized that worth was measured not by inward goals in store.
Was our impact so internal, we had ne’er considered more?
“We do art and nothing more.”
The final word had faded from the scroll so old and dated,
So I looked upon the bearer who was there a-floating o’er.
“I cannot read the rest,” I said, “Would you please do your best,” I said,
“To read the final word upon the scroll upon the floor?”
And he floated down and read this from the scroll upon the floor.
“Why?”, and nothing more.
“‘Why’ what?” I asked him gently, but he looked at me intently,
As he somehow knew (correctly) that this problem was the core.
My arts organization, in thus chasing rich donation,
We had just become a playground for elitist groups galore.
We’d just become the playthings for some toxic folks galore,
“We do art and nothing more.”
And then the message-bearer drifted outwardly, and then he shifted
And before he left he gave me just a thought and nothing more.
Said he, “Art without a purpose is a self-abusing circus,”
And he left me and my budgets just as it had been before.
The ghost it was a fever dream, and wrong, I loudly swore,
“We do art, and nothing more!”
The next month, when we folded, and I was roundly scolded
For allowing this arts company to shut its final door,
I pondered what I should have; might or would or ought or could have
Done to stem the reddest ink that anyone had seen before.
We owed “charity” and “impact?” But we never had before.
“Why?” indeed, and nothing more.
Quoth the craven, “Shut the door.”
Cute, Alan… but, as always, I disagree with your underlying premise. Perhaps, rather than attacking “elitist” arts organizations for not doing what you believe they should, you could offer some specific examples of how they might do better. Happy Halloween.
“The exempt purposes set forth in section 501(c)(3) are charitable, religious, educational, scientific, literary, testing for public safety, fostering national or international amateur sports competition, and preventing cruelty to children or animals. The term charitable is used in its generally accepted legal sense and includes relief of the poor, the distressed, or the underprivileged; advancement of religion; advancement of education or science; erecting or maintaining public buildings, monuments, or works; lessening the burdens of government; lessening neighborhood tensions; eliminating prejudice and discrimination; defending human and civil rights secured by law; and combating community deterioration and juvenile delinquency.” – Internal Revenue Service
It’s not up to me to show examples. It’s up to the sector to show impact.
Thanks, Alan…. My first thought is that education is among the definitions given for 501 (c) (3) organizations. In my experience most, if not all, nonprofit arts organizations provide a range of educational programs and opportunities. My second thought is that “impact” is a pretty broad word; and, since you’re passionate about it, I would really like to know how you measure it in regard to nonprofit arts organizations. Again, in my experience, attendance, volunteers, donations, scope and variety of activities and programs would seem to be reasonable measurements of impact. Or am I missing something here?
It’s a good thought, Len. Education is the reason that the courts allowed some arts organizations to retain their nonprofit status. However, And many arts organizations, even though they’re not required to, engage in ancillary educational programs. But that’s the thing: they’re ancillary. Sometimes, and this may be a cynical take, they’re created only to make the nonprofit eligible for education funding, which is easier to get than arts funding. It would be as though a for-profit company like Amazon, which has a Future Engineers program, could claim nonprofit status. It’s not at the center of what they do, but it’s an added value. Just like most arts organizations.
Impact is impact: as discussed, attendance is not a metric, otherwise the Dodgers could be a nonprofit. Volunteers is not a metric, otherwise companies that ask their employees to do public service could be nonprofits. Donations is not a metric because revenue is not a nonprofit measuring stick for the community. Scope and variety of activities is not a metric unless the activities are primarily charitable in nature, not just putting on shows and selling tickets.
The thing you’re missing is that this has been the issue with nonprofit arts organizations for years and now that the public is keenly aware of what charities are essential and what are not, the chickens are coming home to roost. As I’ve explained in previous columns, there is no moral high ground to being a nonprofit, just a tradition of it. That’s not enough, and that’s why so many organizations are dying on the vine. Happily, there is a way out of this morass, which I’ve described in the book that’s coming out in February.
Thanks, Alan… Appreciate your response. However, I still disagree with your underlying premise – “As I’ve explained in previous columns, there is no moral high ground to being a nonprofit, just a tradition of it. That’s not enough, and that’s why so many organizations are dying on the vine.” Personally, I think what we’re seeing in the non-profit arts is much more complicated – a combination of many factors, some long term structural and financial and some involving life choices, perhaps set in motion by the experiences of Covid. In any case, will look forward to reading your book.
BTW, are you the Alan Harrison who once worked for the Pittsburgh Public Theater many years ago?
Eons ago, yes.