It’s You. You’re the Problem. It’s You: A Reflection on Power, Perception, and Accountability in the Arts
I’ve been sitting with this one for a long time.
What I’m about to say comes from years of observation, experience, and reflection, I want to begin by acknowledging that the subject matter is nuanced and deeply intersectional.
The broader conversation about harm, power, and responsibility in the arts is far more complex than what I’ve laid out here. This post isn’t meant to be the whole story, it’s just a thread I feel ready to pull on.
I also want to acknowledge my own position: I am a white woman with strong family ties to the local arts community. That comes with privilege—access, safety, and visibility that many others have not been afforded. I do not speak from a place of neutrality, and I am certainly not exempt from the dynamics I’m about to explore.
Post #MeToo, post-George Floyd, post-the-public-reckoning-with-the-genocide-of-Indigenous children in residential schools, post-COVID, what has emerged is a growing, uneasy honesty in the arts.
In 2022, Jesse Green wrote a piece for The New York Times titled “Is It Finally the Twilight for Theatre’s Sacred Monsters?” The subtitle cuts to the bone: “Many of the great men who helped America create its classics and institutions and acting style were tyrants. We need to cut them loose.” It’s a solid article. What struck me more than the article itself was who was sharing it.
It was artists, directors, and administrators—many of whom, in my experience, are not unlike the so-called "sacred monsters" the piece condemns.
How do you know when you are the problem?
So here’s the uncomfortable question I want us to ask: How do you know when you are the problem?
It’s a lot easier to spot harm when you’re on the receiving end of it. But what happens when the power begins to shift? When you're no longer the scrappy underdog, but the person others listen to?
If you’ve been working in the arts for some years, if you’re regularly getting hired, and being paid for your work, you are no longer emerging. You are visible. You are powerful. And you hold influence (of varying degrees- again, intersectionally is reality), whether you recognize it or not.
That’s where the danger lies.
Most of us don’t feel powerful because we still carry the wounds of rejection and struggle. But being wounded doesn't make you harmless.
How do you stay in check?
Open Communication: Build cultures where people can speak up safely. Really speak up. Not just offer critiques you’re comfortable with.
Truth to Power Mechanisms: Don’t just say you're open to feedback. Create actual systems for it. Include a third party that does not have a conflict of interest.
Diversify Your Circle: If everyone around you agrees with you, you're probably in an echo chamber. Surround yourself with people who challenge you kindly, constructively, and regularly.
Self-Interrogation: Make it part of your practice to ask hard questions of yourself. Why do I make the choices I do? Who benefits? Who is being left out?
Do Your Words and Actions Match? It’s easy to talk about transparency, collaboration, or inclusion, but are you doing those things when it matters? In my experience, many folks genuinely intend to act differently but simply haven’t practiced it. Good intentions are nothing without follow-through.
Be Willing to Change: The industry is shifting. If your practice hasn’t changed in the last five years, you may be clinging to a version of yourself, or the world, that no longer exists.
None of this is easy. It’s uncomfortable, sometimes painful. But choosing not to engage with this work doesn’t make the discomfort go away. It just pushes it onto someone else. That person, that “someone else,” is likely less powerful than you.
If you’re not actively working to dismantle harm in your spaces, you are reinforcing it, however unintentionally.