By Amanda Nicholson, a mixed media artist, consultant, and researcher from New York
Industry standard needs to be interrogated for its origins in systemic racism and the perpetuation of wealth disparities in BIPOC communities…
Basing pay on the industry standard is an enduring practice in the non-profit sector that leads to wage stagnation for certain populations. Executive and managerial roles enjoy consistent salary increases, while subordinate positions are plagued by low wages.
Nonprofits cannot pride themselves on being equity-focused as they justify underpaying employees and independent contractors, sometimes for their own ideas. Industry standard needs to be interrogated for its origins in systemic racism and the perpetuation of wealth disparities in BIPOC communities, which are often not equally represented in leadership roles in this sector. (It is important to note that even BIPOC-led organizations sometimes contribute to wealth disparities in the communities they serve and are not exempt from examining their practices).
The Industry Standard is systemic racism.
I was offered 14% of a grant to do the actual work because “Industry Standard.”
Before I share the email draft that I originally planned to send to the director of a nonprofit art gallery in Los Angeles directly, I want to share my backstory. I have been a mixed-media artist for 12 years, and successfully exhibited twice in the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York by the age of 18. Unfortunately, the stereotype of the starving artist deterred me from pursuing art full-time.
I’ve been in the nonprofit sector for the better part of the last decade, and I know firsthand how low wages, often justified by budget limitations, can be. Outside of executive and managerial roles, nonprofit employees and contractors almost always hit a ceiling.
In the past year, I returned to my artist roots and began to look for residencies. Within months I secured a Creatives in Residence opportunity at a (nonprofit) arts and mental health center based in LA. I created five pieces centered around my grassroots organizing and lived experience with housing instability.
The subject of this essay came onto my radar earlier this year after seeing an Instagram ad (how I find out about most cool events). I quickly realized people who look like me were being platformed as curators and exhibitors. After attending a few of their receptions, I mentioned my idea for a group show around displacement as a global phenomenon to the staff, and we agreed to sit down to discuss the full idea.
For a while, nothing came of it.
A few weeks after the opening of my residency, I gave the small executive team a full tour of the exhibition and officially pitched the group show. I would be curating this show and had plans for adjunct programming during its tenure, such as panel discussions and healing events. The staff enjoyed the pitch and told me they would be in touch.
Suddenly in early June, one of the directors reached out to let me know they found a funding opportunity for my show, but the grant application would be due in two days.
Given my background in research, I scoured the California Arts grant website and quickly found the $25K grant they were referring to. I polished my artist statement and answered the application-specific questions. We scheduled a meeting to discuss logistics hours before the grant was due. Two directors and I sat in a Zoom meeting for about an hour as they went over the details.
Things were going well until the staff indicated I would be compensated 14% of the total grant for curation of the artwork in addition to the creation of my own.
Furthermore, despite having no lived experience, the staff thought they would handle the development of the adjunct programming themselves. Staff compensation was not transparent; one director just said in passing that an undisclosed amount of the grant would “cover their salaries.” I was never shown a proposed grant budget with line items. (For context, the majority of staff serve in director roles.)
We wrapped up the meeting, and I sent a decline email in which I calculated 20% to 40% compensation relative to the time commitment. There was hardly any way for this opportunity to be equitable for the other artists or myself.
A director responded to my email in a manner that started as an apology and quickly turned into a patronizing defense. They reduced the estimated time commitment for the group show and threw in an extra $1K for materials which brought my compensation up to about 18.5%.
In reality, art always takes longer than any of us can predict. They mentioned their “very collaborative” approach and that “a lot of [their] value is in the human capital [their] staff provides.”
My true gripe with the response was the audacity to justify the “above industry standard” compensation by sending me a link to wageforwork.com, where they calculated my compensation based on their total annual operating expenses.
The interaction led me to research fiscal sponsorship for artists and to better understand established equity practices which I include in the email draft. This article by The Arts Area explains three different types of fiscal sponsorship, but there are others depending on the needs of the artist and the structure of the 501c(3) providing sponsorship. Organizations like The Field and Fractured Atlas are upfront about their flat administrative fees (in addition to membership fees) for sponsored artists.
It spurred the drafting of the (almost sent) email below.
Dear [redacted], this is how you move beyond the “Industry Standard” and toward equitable compensation.
This experience helped me reflect on what equity truly means for me.
I have been waiting for a few weeks to disclose this information, but the time has finally come to share that I am officially serving on the Board of Directors for ClearPath NYC, a 501(c)3 in New York that provides a free database of available resources for transitional youth exiting foster care and young adults facing housing or food insecurity.
This is a very exciting new role that will allow me to provide feedback on the housing and social services sector and, more generally, the nonprofit industry as a whole. Having worked in this industry for the past 8 years, I am very familiar with the successes and shortcomings that directly impact staff and clientele.
I appreciate your clarification on how lead artist compensation for my project proposal was determined. I believe [redacted] is a progressive and intentional organization, seeking to uplift artists who are often excluded from traditional arts spaces. I approached [redacted] because I’ve witnessed the platform Black and Brown artists have received firsthand. While we did not move forward with this opportunity, it provided the space to examine areas for growth. I advise that [redacted] explore how and by whom industry standards are set. Wage stagnation has plagued workers and working artists alike, due to industry standards that have not impacted executive and managerial roles in the same manner.
Ultimately, our discussions around the [curation for a group show about global displacement and homelessness] were very fruitful in assisting me to narrow down what type of funding I am seeking. For this particular project, a deep equity fiscal sponsorship is most aligned with its needs. The target collaborating artists for the project have been historically disadvantaged and otherwise underpaid. With that in mind, it is most equitable to receive fiscal sponsorship through a 501(c)3 that has outside resources for administrative costs, such as director salaries, and can deduct minimal administrative fees in accordance with the industry standard for fiscal sponsorship of 5-15% (referenced here). For this reason, the opportunity was not the most equitable for the artists.
I know you are committed to funding projects the right way, as you mentioned in our meeting. I’ve included resources below that can serve as a guiding light as you move forward in your operations.
New Venture Fund, a fiscal sponsor, has published Leveraging Fiscal Sponsorship for Racial Equity that identifies the needs, concerns, and recommendations of grassroot groups seeking this type of support. They define deep equity in organizations that “act on an explicit commitment to advancing racial equity, serve groups who share that commitment, and provide services with a culturally relevant approach aligned with that commitment.” You can learn more about that here.
To quote a report from Social Policy Research Associates, “In many cases, there was a general mistrust of fiscal sponsors, especially those who are large and/or white-led, due to their perceived proximity to other powerful institutions of the nonprofit establishment, specifically funders. Unequal and unacknowledged power dynamics contribute to feelings of mistrust some grassroots groups held for fiscal sponsors.” The Evaluation of the Capacity Building for Minority-Led Organizations Project report can be found here.
Change Elemental, a partner consultancy and co-creation organization, published Centering Equity in Intermediary Relationships, where they detail methods to sustain and scale equity-aligned services. They advise exploring anchor partnerships that can be key to alternative business models. Most fiscal sponsorship business models rely on percentages taken from constituent groups and grantees to cover their operating expenses. One fiscal sponsor identified that this practice creates conflict with “the values of transparency and equity.” Organizations moving towards equity can provide grant writing support and secure funding but to be equity aligned they need to “use power and position to engage funders in shifting their practices towards greater equity.” You can find the full report here.
Third Sector New England, Inc. (TSNE), a capacity building organization that partners with nonprofits, has published Reimagining Fiscal Sponsorship In Service of Equity. It highlights emerging practices and recommendations, alongside case studies. The tangible applications of wealth redistribution are tantamount. To identify as equitable, it becomes imperative that an organization de-center itself and focus on the community being served.
You can find details about this report here.
Best,
Amanda Nicholson
This experience helped me reflect on what equity truly means for me.
There is opportunity to focus on our own gain when we lead projects, but that also upholds an unfair power dynamic. I realize that to best serve artists in a group show, a smaller pool of exhibiting artists guarantees equitable compensation for them as well. It becomes imperative in an equity-centered project to prioritize the maximum compensation that artists can receive in determining how large a show can be.
I know firsthand how difficult the search for funding can be, especially in the nonprofit sector. Grant writing is no easy feat, even for the most seasoned professionals.
By centering equity, it becomes a responsibility to share funding in addition to finding and securing it. Fiscal sponsorship can provide opportunities for established nonprofits to center wealth redistribution in their work in a meaningful way, but only if organizations are bold enough to do it.
Amanda Nicholson
Amanda Nicholson (she/they) is a consultant, mixed media artist, and researcher. She currently serves on the board of ClearPath NYC, a social wellness portal designed for youth transitioning out of foster care and young adults. As a seasoned professional in business administration, Amanda has committed to advancing social impact for over a decade. Her expertise includes professional development training such as the Lunch and Learn series at The Center in Hollywood. Using a framework in harm reduction and self-advocacy, she has developed a robust foundation for both practical management and community-driven solutions.