espite my professional life (teaching, research, and service) revolving around words, I continue to struggle with how to define the diverse groups of Emerging Arts Leaders (EALs). Even “groups” seems wrong to me, as it often implies an element of (mutual) exclusivity that does not often exist. But that’s the thing about language—you use what you’ve got until something better comes along. I don’t think the Romans would have stuck with “Carpe Diem” if “YOLO” were an option.

EALs, in my opinion, have a fairly diverse range of individuals with different, albeit often converging, concerns. Keep in mind that the numbers here are mere guesses. We are all still playing a rousing game of Duck Hunt when it comes to hitting the numerical mark.

• Group One: Arts Administrators under 35 years old. The need for additional experience and broad professional development may not be high on the list for someone that is under 35, but has been working in the field for more than 10 years. They may be primarily concerned with the skills required to become an Emerged Leader. Please, feel free to offer name suggestions for what happens after you are an EAL. “Emerged Leader” is ghastly.
• Group Two: Arts Administrators with less than 10 years of experience. This group may or may not overlap with group one. When they don’t, it’s often because the individual realized working in the arts is awesome, but only after training and working in a different field. We won’t begrudge them for being late to the party. Their concerns and wishes for engagement might be different from those in the first group, especially if they are over 35.
• Group Three: The growing number of students in undergraduate arts administration/management (and/or cultural management for any ex-pats reading this) programs.

Groups one and two benefit from having some history. Many of the first EALs, who were so cool they predated the term, were pioneers. They were the first State Arts Agency Executive Directors, the first students of Graduate Arts Administration programs, those who wanted to showcase their art, rolled up their sleeves, and figured it out. They did some serious road paving. Despite some potholes (the Culture Wars, gasp), their efforts left current EALs with a more socially and economically diverse arts landscape and a strong advocacy coalition. For that, I bestow upon them my first thank you. It is because of them that I get to do what I love: be a professor to a small percentage of those in group three. So thanks for that, as well.

I teach in an undergraduate arts administration program. I am responsible for instilling in my current students to respect both theory and practice. While I like to think that my lectures and group discussions are helping to change the world, I know that some of the best work I do is when I connect them to you, fellow Emerging Leaders. It’s great to have friends in arts places.

The EALs I know are happy to speak to my classes about their experiences with any number of things: grant writing, dealing with boards, managing venues, and community programming. They are honest when the conversation eventually turns to questions about work/life balance, salaries, and internships.

EALs that I don’t know are generous with their time when my timid students reach out to them in order to complete my “Informational Interview” assignment. They are great listeners when my students work up the nerve to approach them at events like Arts Advocacy Day and APAP.

EALs I have come to know serve their own field as site supervisors when my students become interns. They understand the difference between an intern and a volunteer. They never make jokes about students being “slave labor.” As a bonus they fill out my midterm and final evaluation forms in a timely manner.

Some of the EALs I know even allow my students to work on mini consulting projects for them. They engage with them as they would a peer. They acknowledge that my students have a voice, something to say, and that someone is listening.

Each EAL is doing something important simply by allowing my students to see them. The field has changed significantly from the times when the only guest speakers I saw in my classes were older white males. As the field continues to expand welcoming more individuals with disabilities, members of the LGBTQIA community, and people of color, my students are able to immediately recognize that arts administrators are as diverse as the roles they have and the populations they serve. It is easier to see yourself doing the important work we do when you can literally see someone that looks like you and comes from a similar background.

Current EALs have been great assets to the field and to each other by being strong advocates for the economic stability of their organizations and, in turn, the economic viability of entering into the field. This, I am especially grateful for, as I boast about the improving economic conditions of being an arts administrator to prospective parents. EALs have spoken out against exploitive internship practices and have worked to create a public image of the field that actively rejects the idea that our passion is compensation for our work.  EALs have worked to dismantle the glorification of the “starving artist” and by extension the starving arts administrator. This is a grassroots PR campaign for our field, and I hope that more people pitch in to help change the idea of our field in the minds of the general public.

Even my students aren’t at the bottom of the Emerging Leader Ladder. Due to the increasingly competitive world of undergraduate education, I am also partially responsible for garnering interest from prospective students. You’d be surprised to know that many high school students haven’t even heard of our wonderful profession. Yes, many of the kids at various “arts lunch tables” don’t know about the administrative world behind the artistic one they are acquainted with. It is my students who work to educate those from their high schools and middle schools about the career path they have chosen. In our efforts to reach out to younger members of the EAL group, it is important for us to frame the work we do. It is not something that you do only if you can’t hack it as an artist/dancer/actor. It isn’t some reward that they must earn by majoring in something that doesn’t fit until they happen to hear about us in passing. But they won’t know that if we don’t tell them. So, EALs, for the future work you will do speaking to middle and high school students, for the days you will blow minds at career day talks, and for the times you will brush out your trusty old “this is what I do speech” when speaking to teachers and college counselors, I thank you.

The middle of the ladder can be a tough place. But the EALs I know handle it with two of my favorite g’s: grace and grit (and some grimaces). While advocating for themselves, searching for the resources and agency to continue moving up the rungs, they are assisting those behind them; lifting as they climb. They offer words of wisdom, the lessons they learned the hard way, and a lending hand. They directly contribute to the sustainability of our field. For that, I am grateful.

Interested in hearing more about the future of the arts from emerging arts leaders? Check out our preconference session on Arts Leadership at this year’s Annual Convention in Nashville, TN.

This Emerging Leaders Blog Salon on Charting the Future is generously sponsored by Patron Technology.