This is a guest opinion column

Like a lot of folks, I’m struggling with language and struggling to metabolize everything that’s happening. Last weekend we received the letter we somewhat expected, the same one as everyone else. The $40,000 grant awarded to Alabama Contemporary Art Center by the National Endowment for the Arts was canceled. It rolled back 30% of our programming budget on a spending commitment that started in September of 2024, with forewarning of deeper cuts to come. I know if you aren’t writing the grants it’s hard to see that money working in our community, but this is a millions of dollars hit to our state. Here’s the context that is at the top of my heart right now.

When Southern artists, musicians or writers break into the canon, or achieve national credibility, it is always a story about a diamond in the rough who was discovered by some authorized expert, auteur, or elite member of the canon. Someone took a risk, wandered off the path. And it’s romantic, this idea of being found, and being so different your context can’t account for you, being special. But by calling artists (or ourselves) an ‘exception’ to Southern Identity we assume ourselves out of the broader culture. We confirm our status as outsiders.

ACAC seeks national funding because we believe Southern artists have something to contribute to the national stage. This is not the money that allows us to exist – that is raised locally and regionally. If we are granted the gift of existence, by your direct support, then our job is to seek resources and opportunities connected to the larger field to put to work locally. National money is money that directly feeds the artists and community we work with. It allows artists and culture bearers the stability and space to imagine a future. It is also our telephone connected to the national conversation.

In a short period the state of Alabama has lost hundreds of grant opportunities that typically funded artists, writers, musicians, outreach and education projects as well as museums and public libraries. Over $16 million came into our state through IMLS, the NEH and NEA in 2024. The President’s budget proposal eliminates all of these agencies. The money is big, but it’s not just money. These programs not only support local practices but validate them, they value an artist’s labor, and create cultural capital. When organizations like ours are ushered out of the room, we lose the full complexity of our nation’s history and we lose the opportunity to negotiate a better future for ourselves and generations to come. We lose our voice in the conversation.

There is no going backwards, and when the road ahead is closed, you find an alternate route. It is useful to name your losses only when you aspire to restore or replace them. What we as a region need from our elected leaders is creativity and gumption that understands that mapping resources into the South is the only way to dismantle the assumption that this place has nothing to offer, that our culture is an exception to be exported at the behest of some foreign elite, or that our value is less, lower. We act as a passthrough for the wealth of the country and retain almost nothing. We act as an incubator for talent and culture but are rarely assigned credit. Recruiting and putting resources to work here is an act of radical hope. We need leadership that believes the South deserves a microphone on the national stage, and is prepared to grab one.

Here’s a short list of maybe not all, but some things you can do:

• Write your elected officials to ask them to protect cultural funding. 
• Give. Donations help greatly. If you can afford to give, do so. 
• Organize initiatives and collective action that creates space for the stories being silenced. Money is money, but time, space, and material is also money. You can work with your favorite museum/org or spearhead a new thing. 

We care about arts and culture because it is a driving indicator of the health and vitality of any place. We care about the arts because they are the workhorse that makes neighborhood revitalization happen. We care about the arts because they are entrepreneurship. They impact recruitment and retention rates for companies; they breathe life into education in math and science; they are medicine for healing trauma and dementia; they drive tourism; and they capture our community’s stories and history. Our art is both our future and our memory.

Help raise the visibility of the issue as you see it, however you know how. I know it feels like shouting into the void, but we gain nothing through silence.

elizabet elliott is the executive director of the Alabama Contemporary Art Center. She lives and works in Mobile, Alabama.