Missed Opportunity

In the next few weeks the Council will announce its first round of 2010 grant awards. In addition we will announce the recipients of Art Jobs grant funding--the $250,000 in stimulus money the Vermont Arts Council received for redistribution from the National Endowment for the Arts' $50 million portion of the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA).

The limitations the NEA at the direction of Congress placed on the Arts Jobs program are brutal. First, its focus must be on job reinstatement or retention, so supporting organizations whose service is largely done by volunteers places them at an immediate competitive disadvantage. Second, funding is limited to organizations for whom the arts are a core part of their mission thus eliminating many significant Vermont non-arts institutions who, from time to time, engage in worthy arts activities. Third, even for a small state like Vermont, it's simply not enough money. Depending on the size of their operating budgets, organizations could apply for grants of up to $10,000. We received more than 90 applications from eligible organizations requesting nearly $730,000 in funds. This guarantees that for every one applicant who benefits two will be disappointed.

State arts councils across the country are seeing similar statistics. Those that have already informed applicants of the funding outcomes are reporting a common set of responses from those who were unsuccessful. First, there is disappointment which soon turns to fear (now what do we do?) and then to anger (how dare they tell us we are not worth of funding?)

We expect Vermont applicants to have similar responses.

There are no responses we can offer that organizations who have been denied competitive funding in the past haven't already heard. For some reason, however, not receiving ARRA funding hits a lot harder than other grant program outcomes. The question is why?

I can think of two things: the fact that unreasonable expectations were raised by virtue of the sums of money that were under discussion; and the fact that we all missed a huge opportunity--or perhaps a better way to phrase it is that a huge opportunity missed us.

Most people don't really grasp the context of $50 million out of $789 billion. But if you do the math, $50 million is 0.000064 of $789 billion--or 64/10,000ths of one percent. (For those who still are having a hard time conceiving what that means, it's the same relationship that 6.4 cents has to $100,000. As far as ARRA is concerned, the arts might as well be lost in the sofa cushions or left in a dish at the deli counter).

Even if it turns out someone got confused and thought we were meant to have $50 million per state, the combined $2.5 billion dollars allotted to the arts would still be less than 1/3rd of 1% of the $789 billion. Either way you look at it, we are talking tiny amounts of money, even though it seems like $50 million (nationally), and $250,000 (in Vermont) is a lot. It's not. And to make matters worse, it's a tiny fraction of what might have been.

I can't help but think back to the wonderful works created during the 1930s. Art that adorned walls in public buildings, or was integrated into the infrastructure of our plazas, bridges and public places; music that was commissioned to commemorate significant events; plays that were written and produced; dances and dance companies that were formed that are still in existence today--all of this and so much more was either directly or indirectly the result of a federal policy that invested significant funds into the arts through the Works Projects Administration.

What, I have to ask, would the American Reinvestment and Recovery Act have accomplished if, instead of putting $50 million into the NEA for the support of the arts nationwide, it had instead required on every public works project funded to spend a half-percent of the total budget for that project on aesthetic interpretations and improvements, and celebratory activities in locations where the public works' impact was most immediately felt?

Or, to make it even more palatable to state and local governments, what if the requirement had been only a quarter-percent, with a challenge for local communities to match it one-to-one?

Here's how the numbers would work out: at .25 percent, $1.973 billion in challenge funds would be available for improvements at the state and local level.

With the required match in hand from private and local sources, that's $3.945 billion-worth of artistic creations and aesthetic improvements over the entire course of the Stimulus funds' impact--or nearly 79 times as much funding available for the arts than under the current bill.

Americans are comfortable with the concept of a percent for art. Even a quarter-percent for art is better than nothing. And it is WAY better than 64/10,000ths of a percent for art. What a missed opportunity.

Next time (if there is a next time) let's lobby for a percent for art and leave the decisions for how to spend money on art at the community/project level. More art will be created. More artists will be employed. And communities all over Vermont, indeed all over the country, will enjoy the lasting impact of this support for generations to come.

The question I really want answered is: Is it too late to do our own WPA-like program with the $770 million of ARRA funds coming into Vermont for infrastructure improvements like roads, bridges, renewable energy, schools, and communications? A quarter percent for Art of that amount would come to nearly $1, 925,000. Think how that would improve our land- and city-scapes...

Determining Impact

The Arts Council reports to five sets of stake-holders: The IRS, because we are an independent non-profit of a size that requires us to fill out a Form 990 every year; The National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), because we are one of the 56 state or regional partners that receive the bulk of its federal funds through this small independent agency; the Governor, because his annual budget process is the starting point for determining what our state appropriation will be; the Legislature--particularly the House and Senate Appropriations and Institutions committees--because they tend to be the ending point for determining our annual state appropriation; and our members, represented by the Board of Trustees, who set policy, adopt our mission and strategic plan, approve our annual budget, and provide executive oversight.

The general public is also a stakeholder, but for the sake of argument, I would suggest that their interest tends to be covered by a combination the IRS, the Legislature, and the Membership.

From time to time, there are additional stakeholders. Some are collaborators like other statewide nonprofits (Historical Society, Preservation Trust, and the Vt. Council on Rural Development) who work with us on Cultural Facilities and the Creative Economy. Others are funders--foundations, corporations, or federal agencies (other than the NEA) who have funded more specific projects like the Millenium Arts Partnership, Palettes, Art Fits Vermont, and the Cream of Vermont music sampler. And a few are state partners, like the Tourism Dept. or the Agency of Agriculture with whom we (have) work(ed) on projects like Cultural Heritage Tourism and the Big E.

All of these stakeholders are interested in impact. Why? Because it is not enough to keep busy doing work that you know is important. THEY have to know it's important, too. And the only way to do that is to evaluate the program, project, or service; provide evidence that backs up the claims that you (hopefully) made at the start of the work; and make it all so clear and compelling that, of course, you will receive more funding to do more programs and services the next year.

Okay, so we all know what we are supposed to do: show the value--no, PROVE the value of investing funds and experts' time in supporting arts education, showcasing the arts in all their forms, and helping artists and organizations to market and promote their own goods and services. Using labels like "value added," "authentic," "rooted in traditions" and many more, we tend to talk about the arts in terms of its impact on tourism, economic development, community development, and individual learning and personal growth.

But the dirty little secret is this: no amount of evaluation, of measuring impacts of the arts in terms of economic development or increased tourism, or telling the sweet stories about how little Johnnie suddenly turned his life around in seventh grade when he discovered acting is going to change the mind of anyone who hasn't lived through the "transformational moment" that occurs when one experiences great art in person.

The best we can do is tell stories about how people (elsewhere, usually) have adopted an arts-based plan or project and transformed a community. I can tell you about, for instance, the Police Poetry and Photo Calendar project in Portland, ME but unless you knew some of the folks personally who participated and you are a mayor or police chief yourself, you're highly unlikely to advocate for such a project for your own town. YOU have to be the catalyst; YOU have to take a leadership role; YOU have to be the one to pick up the phone and make the phone call. If you don't "get it" you won't make the phone call. And your excuse will be something like, "well that's all well and good for Portland ME, but we're not in Portland ME."

Yeah yeah yeah.

Once a person has experienced the arts it is impossible to look upon world events--or even local events--without wondering how much better things might have been had we only taken time to experience them the way an artist might. My personal fantasy is to wonder what might have happened if our most recent President had paused with a group of collaborating artists and considered how best to respond to the crimes that took place on 9/11.

In this blog, I once referred to Liz Lerman as having said (and I must paraphrase), "it's clear that the Bush administration never learned the lessons we all learn right away in the theater: rehearsals are not just a tool to establish blocking assignments and lighting cues, but to work out problems that will arise to thwart the progress of the play. If they had only rehearsed their script, the Bush administration would have quickly realized their play had no ending..."

The challenge ultimately, is not what words can we think of that attempt to convey the impact of art on our lives because, with the exception of skilled poets and novelists in whose hands words become, themselves, works of art, words are inadequate to the task.

We must instead expose people to the impact of the arts. Often.

Help us make our many conversations and reports about "impact" and "value" easier. Invite someone to a show this summer. If he/she is on your local select board, school board, zoning commission, or a member of the legislature, invite him/her twice. Not only will you and I be glad you did, so will he/she.

There is still time and there is a lot to choose from.

Stay dry, and enjoy these next six weeks!

Celebrating Volunteers

People who review our strategic plan often assume that our goal regarding "increas(ing) opportunities for everyone in Vermont to experience and/or participate in the arts" is limited to helping those who want to become painters, actors, musicians, dancers, writers, poets, filmmakers, composers, etc.

While serving these needs is an important part of what we do, the goal has a much larger mandate.

We certainly want to create a vibrant lifestyle in Vermont in which any and all efforts that result in creative activities, whether in a classroom, living room, gallery, or performing arts center are valued and applauded. But we also want to nurture a Vermont in which those who are not inclined to "be" an artist, are nevertheless encouraged to learn how to appreciate and value and experience the work of those who are so inclined.

One can experience art in a variety of ways, but for the sake of brevity, I will only list four: the performer/artist who (re)creates the artistic experience; the audience-member who reacts to the artistic experience; the administrator who establishes the most optimal conditions under which the performer/artist and audience-member may (re)create and react most effectively; and, finally, the volunteer whose tasks run the gamut from serving on the front lines of customer service, like parking cars and ushering, to setting an organization's operating policies, including its mission, vision, and strategic plans. None of these experiences are mutually exclusive--in fact in many of our most vibrant organizations and artists serve as administrators and volunteers and vice versa.

Volunteers are the lifeblood of not-for-profits. In Vermont's arts sector, they are what keep the doors of our several-hundred arts organizations open. They are the "keepers of the flame," the holders of the collective institutional (and even community) memory. They step in when paid administrators burn out. They protect and sustain their communities' cultural assets because those assets belong to them more than to any others. They "own" them emotionally and psychologically.

With notable exceptions (the amazing ushers, for example, who receive their 20-, 30-, or even 40-year pins!) even volunteers can burn out. They do so for a variety of reasons, but for the last several years I've begun hearing about a disturbing trend--fewer young people than ever are stepping into the shoes of those who retire or move away.

Part of this trend is the result of our economy. More people in the work-force than ever, and more people looking for work (due to the downturn), have resulted in the creation of a huge disincentive for people to volunteer.

But I think there is also a sociological reason for this trend. "Leisure time entertainment" has dramatically increased in the past 15 years, offering tantalizing--and enormously time-consuming--alternatives to young people who might otherwise have volunteered. Television was intrusive enough when I was a kid. But kids today have computers, hand-helds, ipod touches, wiis, and other addictive tech toys. Even worse, a significant amount of this type of entertainment is geared towards (and is largely responsible for) the short attention span of Gen-Xers, Millenials, and other cohorts who often feel antipathy towards art forms that require any kind of sustained concentration. Thus, even if one is fortunate enough to attract young volunteers to give their time and energy to an arts activity, there's a good chance that the art form itself will hold limited appeal for them. While many still volunteer because it is the least expensive way to experience a play or an opera, or an opening, it is my fear that fewer and fewer people are volunteering for that reason.

So I'm curious. Why do people--particularly young people--volunteer in this day and age?

One reason is perhaps in response to an ideological call for public service, like the White House's recent United We Serve program. But there are other good reasons to volunteer--as Dear Abby is quick to reassure her readers. Meeting people with similar interests (social networking in person--what a concept!) is a great reason to volunteer. Professional networking is another (spending quality face time with the director of an organization as a volunteer is even better than getting a killer recommendation from your favorite college professor, I promise). Also, professionals often volunteer their services as lawyers, accountants, or management consultants simply because they receive huge psychological and social rewards for doing so.

Of all the reasons to volunteer, however, the most important for me is the degree to which doing so creates a shared sense of community. Yes, social networking is certainly part of that. But volunteering--if only for an hour or two a month--offers a glimpse into what makes a community--YOUR community--tick. This is a community benefit--not just a personal benefit.

There are hundreds of opportunities in Vermont to volunteer, especially during the summer. Almost any not-for-profit needs your help. But I'm speaking now on behalf of all Vermont cultural organizations--from historical societies to opera houses, libraries to festivals.

We all need your help. Our participation in the Lake Champlain Quad Celebration (which, yes, needs its own volunteers) offers lots of opportunities to participate (or experience, if you prefer) the arts. The first is at puzzlePalooza where we need help putting together a Guinness Book of World Records-setting jigsaw puzzle, the second is at the parade during which we need people to represent the more than 190 Vermont towns who have participated in Art Fits Vermont (the puzzle project). Both are on July 11th. Click here for information.

Volunteering locally is really only a matter of making one phone call, or visiting one website. Simple, really.

And for you newcomers to the volunteering "scene," there's one other thing that any old-timer will tell you: wear comfortable shoes.

(Not) Cheap Art

The story goes that, years ago, a marketing hotshot created an ad campaign for Subaru with the following tag-line: "Cheap, and built to stay that way!"

Sales of Subarus promptly nose-dived, the campaign was ditched, the hotshot fired.

Subaru was, of course, trying to position itself as the inexpensive but reliable alternative to a host of competitors in the class of vehicles designed to attract the attention of the cost-conscious suburban/rural soccer mom.

Anyone who has or knows a real soccer mom also knows that that particular cohort is not into "cheap." Inexpensive, sure. Cheap, no.

I confess, I feel the way the Subaru soccer mom does when I hear or see the term "cheap art for sale." I cringe.

Lately, I've been seeing more and more notices for Cheap Art; often they are poorly magic-markered onto cardboard signs at local Farmers' Markets. But in a recent notice about the Northeast Kingdom being featured in the July/August issue of National Geographic Explorer Magazine, the Kingdom is described, in part, as "home to the pioneering Cheap Art Movement."

Hmmm. Is this "on brand?" as our Tourism Commissioner likes to intone?

Our "pioneering heritage" as the first to outlaw slavery, the first to recognize civil unions, the first to use a postage stamp, laughing gas, sandpaper, and a host of other firsts, is something that all of us in Vermont may be proud of.

But cheap art?

I can't imagine anything more likely to quash a desire to visit the Kingdom than the prospect of being exposed to bale after bale of Cheap Art. [Note to self: whales come in pods, crows come in murders; check the internet to see of Cheap Art comes in bales. It sounds like it should.]

There's a guy in town who, when he completes them, shellacs jigsaw puzzles, frames them, and hangs them on his wall. He has several dozen creations and, he tells me, he only hangs a small portion of his collection at a time and he changes it whenever the mood suits him. He's got a farm in Peacham, Main Street in Moscow, Ascutney Mountain in the fall, and a bunch of other Vermont land- and village-scapes about which he regularly boasts.

There was a barber down in Savannah, GA in the 1980s who took up whittling. Over the course of his lifetime, he recreated pretty much every person he came in contact with as a small wooden doll, crafted with his two hands and a two-dollar pen-knife. Sometimes he'd give one of his pieces to a family member as a holiday gift, but most often he'd give them away to clients who liked them. Then he'd whittle another likeness. At his death he had a collection of nearly a thousand dolls he'd created over the years.

So here's a trick question: which of these makes cheap art, and which does not?

Here's my take on it.

If an artist values his/her own creations so low as to allow them to be labeled "Cheap," it creates an oxymoron. Art is not cheap. Art is never cheap, not when it is the result of a guy putting a jigsaw puzzle together, framing it and hanging it on his wall, or whiling away the hours with a pen-knife and a block of scrap wood.

Cheap is a state of mind. It starts with "inexpensive" and takes a disrespectful turn into self-loathing. Cheap is not Vermont. Cheap is not Art.

Let's do something about this; can we call it "Inexpensive Art" "Affordable Art" "Art Anyone Can Own" "Art for People for Whom Money is the Only Object" or something else? Please?

WWW The Vermont Arts Council

As we started planning for our 44th Annual Meeting in the Vermont State House on Thursday June 4th, our Board recognized that so many things have changed in the past few years, both nationally and in Vermont, that it would be a good thing to provide an overview of who we are, what we do, and why we do it--hence the WWW title of this post. The following (with a few edits) was distributed to Vermont media outlets earlier this week and I thought it a nice way to introduce my first-ever “Guest Blog Post” from Marie Houghton, the Council’s Chair Enjoy!--ALA

In 1965 the Vermont legislature approved Act 170 which directed state and federal funds to the Vermont Arts Council for the purpose of "increasing the opportunities for Vermont's citizens and visitors to view, enjoy and participate" in the arts.

For the past 45 years, trends in the arts have fluctuated but we have held that founding principle as the basis for all we do. We have also followed the lead of the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) in articulating artistic excellence as the core criterion by which we assess applications for funds. At times it has been a challenge to respond nimbly to national and state influences in our operating environment. But through it all we have remained community-centered.

Until the 1980s, the Council’s appropriation from the NEA (representing more than a third of our budget) grew annually and we invested heavily in developing the capacity of Vermont’s cultural organizations. The Council offered sizable operating funds to community arts organizations and healthy artist fellowship grants. Our primary focus was on facilitating organizations’ ability to present—and individuals’ ability to create—art.

The environment supporting an "art for art’s sake" philosophy began to erode during the Reagan era, and when funding from the NEA was slashed in the mid-90s, the Council faced a new reality. With less money, how could the Council help organizations fulfill their missions; artists retain their creative vitality; and schools and community centers avoid cutbacks in arts education programs?

Our response—arrived at through careful planning and experimentation—was to invest time and energy in new collaborations around Cultural Heritage Tourism, the Creative Economy, technology-based arts-learning, and projects like Palettes of Vermont that encouraged public participation in creative activities.

Today the Council is reaching a broader Vermont audience than ever. In the past five years we’ve given nearly 700 grants totaling $2.3 million for creation, presentation and arts education. Peer panelists review and recommend grant applications for funding based on criteria that, in virtually every case, states “high artistic quality” as the primary consideration for funding.

In terms of outreach, however, nothing we have done has been as successful as our Statewide Community Arts Projects: 47,000 Vermonters participated in the 2006 Palettes of Vermont project and 60,000 are currently engaged in Art Fits Vermont (the puzzle project). We do not believe that encouraging Vermonters to participate in the arts at whatever level they are comfortable, and rewarding outstanding work, whether created by artists or presented by arts organizations, are mutually exclusive activities. They are not.

As trustees we are proud of the Council's work, from our statewide projects, our grant programs and workshops that support the creation and presentation of art, to our Cultural Facilities Program and the "Art of Action." This last is an innovative, public/private collaboration with Lyman Orton and has resulted in the largest commissioning project in the Council’s history and was the cover story of the February 4, 2009 issue of Seven Days.

Our recent listening tour provided great food for thought as we evaluate how best to serve Vermont’s creative community in the current environment. We are always open to new ideas: drop by the Council's office in Montpelier, send us an email, or give us a call with your thoughts. Even better, come to the Vermont State House on Thursday, June 4 and join us at 4 pm for our Annual Meeting and Awards ceremony. We look forward to your participation.

Sincerely,


Marie Houghton, Chair
Vermont Arts Council

Lip Service isn't Enough

In the late 1950s, according to symphony lore, San Francisco thought it had a world-class symphony orchestra. However a few people, including the SFO Executive Director, knew differently. With the backing of a committed group of trustees he invited several of the country's best orchestras to perform in San Francisco. For the next couple of years San Franciscans were treated to performances by the Boston, Philadelphia, Cleveland, and Chicago Symphony orchestras.

It didn't take San Franciscans long to realize that while their symphony was pretty good, it wasn't world class.

The result? They hired a young Seiji Ozawa and within a matter of years, San Francisco's recordings began to match those of its more reputable east-coast competitors and its performances were regarded by the press and the audience as, finally and truly, world class.

Here in Vermont, we have a different kind of problem. We actually DO have world-class artists whose output (whether visual, performing, literary, or media) rivals any other place in any other time. We also have performance and exhibition venues that consistently provide Vermont audiences with lively, intimate, and highly welcoming cultural experiences that are often rooted in the community's local customs.

Unfortunately, as I write this post, I can't think of a single Vermont artist who makes his or her living from his/her art in Vermont. I have come to understand that there are three ways to survive as an artist in Vermont: 1) you have a day job such as teaching, waiting tables, or farming; 2) you have already earned, inherited, or married into great wealth; or 3) you have a substantial out-of-state network of patrons who regularly hire you.

The reason artists have a hard time earning a living from their art is in part rooted in our geography and demographics. We have evolved as a state with powerful tendencies to value "local control" over our own circumstances. Our (tiny) population is about the same as Acapulco, Mexico, but with more than 250 towns, each of which feels its offerings are unique and distinct from its neighbors', Vermont has a very difficult time sustaining its abundant cultural institutions, much less its individual-artist population.

But there is another problem--one that is well within our means to address: Vermont does not sufficiently market itself as an "arts destination."

How do we fix this?

San Francisco showed its own population that its symphony was not world class by bringing symphonies that were to play. We have to do a similar thing only in reverse. We have to bring Vermont artists (or their works) out of state--to other population centers--and show people what they're missing. The assumption being that once they see the level of quality and professionalism, those audiences will want to come to Vermont on their own.

North Carolina did this kind of thing years ago with its "Handmade In America" driving tours throughout the Blue Ridge Piedmont. Hundreds of thousands of visitors now take "weekenders" or "staycations" in what used to be one of the poorest, most rural, depressed-and-depressing regions of southern Appalachia. The amount of money they spend on incredibly-wrought arts-and-crafts items and local performances would boggle your mind...

...as well as support quite a few artists, that's for sure.

So...two tasks: market Vermont as an Arts Destination, and Take this Show on the Road.

Two exhibitions in the next 12 months are taking artists' works on the road. The first, Rediscovering Champlain, organized by Doug Lazarus of Middlebury features 39 works by Vermont Artists. This exhibit is finishing up its run at Shelburne Farms and will soon go on tour to New York and Boston.

The second, Art of Action, organized in partnership with Lyman Orton by the Arts Council will bring about 50 works from 10 Vermont Artists on tour to Washington DC (as well as 26 venues throughout the State of Vermont) next year.

It's my hope that these efforts, combined with the outstanding work that Jay Craven and his colleagues have done in Burlington to pull together a significant cultural festival around the Champlain 400 celebration will go along way towards kick-starting Vermont's brand image as a "world class arts destination."

Slogans anyone?

What gives a community its Vitality?

A couple of weeks ago a former trustee paid me a visit. He told me a story about how he recently took some heat in his community for remarks he made about how important the not-for-profit cultural organizations were to the economic health and vitality of his town.

I don't have access to the full story and its reportage, but it sounded like quite a few people took offense at his suggestion that the cultural institutions in his town were what drew people to visit, live, work, and raise families there. (What about the restaurants, the bookstore, the artist collaborative?, they cried. What about the grocery stores, the car dealership, and the movie theater? What about the hiking, biking, and fishing that was conveniently located within minutes of the downtown? What about the people, the finely built homes, the attractive downtown?)

How DARE he (my former trustee) suggest it was the cultural institutions that were responsible for the town's economic identity?

What is interesting to me about this story is that when one talks about a Vermont town or village, one can be pretty sure that all of them share many of the same characteristics. Shops, grocery stores, and easy access to outdoor recreation are common to virtually every town or village center in Vermont.

But I'm pretty sure that what my former trustee was talking about was not those fairly common characteristics, but those characteristics about his town that were UNcommon. It's very easy to imagine any town with a grocery store, a book store (although a good independent bookstore is a rare treasure these days) and even an eatery of some kind or other.

Burlington is not unique because it has just any performing arts center or thriving visual arts scene. It is unique because it has the Flynn Center for the Performing Arts, it has the Firehouse Gallery, and it has the South End, North End, and all-around-the-town artists scene (yes, including the colleges and University) that, whether the Art Hop or the Jazz Fest or some other type of cultural activity, gives Burlington its unique character. That it is the queen city on the lake is a bonus, but again--of all the towns that share that characteristic (being on a lake), none except for Burlington, is Burlington. If you don't believe me, ask yourself, when was the last time you visited Plattsburgh? Will you be going back any time soon?

The same is true for Bennington, St. Johnsbury, Brattleboro, Weston, St. Albans, Montpelier, Randolph, Bellows Falls, Vergennes, Brandon and many many more. Plenty of towns have good schools, a great library, a museum, a performing arts center, a great artist coop, some good restaurants, a good bookstore. But only Bennington has the Bennington College, Bennington Museum, the Oldcastle Theater, the Artists' Guild, and (slightly north) the Vermont Arts Exchange as well as good restaurants, stores, etc. Only St. Johnsbury has the Athenaeum, the Fairbanks Museum, Catamount Arts, and the St. J Academy (and a great artists coop, bookstore, and a few restaurants). Only Brattleboro...oh heck, you get the picture.

All of these towns are unique (and thus attractive to visitors, new businesses, relocators, etc.) largely because of the cultural institutions they play host to.

I felt badly for my former trustee. He fell victim to what I now call the "me too" syndrome that afflicts everyone in times of economic crisis. No one's livelihood is inconsequential to the life and vitality of a town. So when someone dares to suggest that what makes a town unique and attractive to investment (whether of marketing dollars or business incentives) doesn't include you and your work, you tend to get defensive. (What about me? I'm important. My work matters.)

But too much "me too" results in the fabric of our communities becoming frayed and the institutions that define their cultural legacies reduced, ultimately, to rubble.

We can't let that happen. Not in Vermont.