Memories of September 11

We had become parents just over a year ago. We celebrated Jackie’s first birthday on August 21, 2001. John worked from home, when he wasn’t traveling, and I was thinking about going back to work part-time, because being home all day with a baby was driving me crazy. At least I had a babysitter, Mrs. G, for some relief. I just wasn’t cut out for this stay-at-home-mom stuff. It took me a while to figure out that I had post-partum depression, but what I did know was that I needed some balance in my life.

John and I prided ourselves on not watching much television in those days. We only had a little 13-inch screen TV that we kept on the top shelf of a blue painted jelly cupboard in our living room, the door to which was usually closed, prompting guests to ask, “Where’s your TV?”

On the morning of Tuesday, September 11, I was sitting on the living room floor and playing with Jackie, who was still a baby, even though she was walking proficiently, having taken her first steps at only eight-and-a-half-months old. As John was preparing to start his work day in the attic office, the cordless phone on the kitchen wall rang unexpectedly, and he answered it. “Hello?” He listened, his face turning grave as he looked at me. He said, “It’s my dad. Turn on the TV.”

Concerned, I opened the door to our quaint wooden cupboard and turned on the TV. We were greeted by an awful sight: Both of the World Trade Center towers with black smoke billowing horrifically from their top floors. “Two planes hit the World Trade Center,” John conveyed. “My dad thinks it was that bin Laden.” What? Who? At a time when most Americans had never heard of Osama bin Laden, John’s dad, a retired Air Force officer and a spy during the Cold War, knew all about him. I was incredulous and confused. It couldn’t be an act of terrorism. But then again, it would be impossible for two pilots to fly accidentally into each of the Twin Towers.

I covered my face with my hands as I thought about how many people were likely in that building at 9:00 on a Tuesday morning. I hadn’t even thought about little Jackie standing near me, but she was looking at me, and clearly thought I was playing peek-a-boo. She removed my hands from my face and playfully said, “Boo!” Oh no, I thought, my hands are not on my face because I’m playing. I can’t play right now. This is terribly tragic. But Jackie was too young to understand, and I certainly wasn’t going to tell her what was going on. I barely understood it myself. All I knew was that people were dying before my eyes. So, I half-heartedly played peek-a-boo as I stole glances at the TV with dread.

The 9/11 Generation

In fact, I never told Jackie about what happened on that bright, “severe clear” September morning. As she was growing up, I deftly avoided the subject entirely. I figured that either I would explain it to her when she was older, or she would learn about it in school, at an age that educators thought it would be appropriate to talk to children about terrorism and evil. Ultimately, I guess I couldn’t imagine any time that I would want to tell my daughter about such things because over the years, it never felt like a good time to tell her that horrible story. I’m not someone who generally shies away from difficult subjects, but in this case, I became rather skilled at it. She eventually learned about it, presumably at school. As an adult, she told me that there was never a time that she didn’t know about September 11; it was always part of her consciousness.

Debbie in DC

The images on the TV became more and more disturbing, as news came that the Pentagon had also been hit by a hijacked passenger jet. I called my college friend Debbie, who worked for the Department of Defense but had recently moved her office from the Pentagon. To my great relief, she answered her cell phone. Her office (in Federal Office Building 2) was adjacent to the Pentagon (Federal Office Building 1), and she and the thousands of others in the building had been evacuated. “We were told to disperse from the parking lot we were standing in, so we walked along the gridlocked highway, and now I’m sitting in a Korean restaurant with no TV,” she told me. “Could you call my mom and tell her that I’m ok? We don’t have good reception here. I’m surprised you got through.” I was glad to have something helpful to do. Debbie had been my friend for over 20 years, and I had her childhood home phone number memorized. I still do. 609-895-1135.

Like many Americans, I was looking for someplace to put the blame. Debbie was a lifelong Republican, and we had developed an understanding that we would never discuss politics. However, I was still stinging from Al Gore’s horrific general election loss to George W. Bush the previous November. “I don’t think this would have happened if Gore was in office,” I said to Debbie resentfully. “Are you kidding me?!” she shot back. “This has been brewing since Clinton was in office! If anything, it’s Clinton’s fault! He completely missed the opportunity to prevent this!” Never mind that Bush was in office for nearly eight months already and had been unable to prevent it. To this day, we still don’t discuss politics. We’ll never agree.

 

Concern from France

The phone rang again, and it was my friend Cathy calling from the South of France. “We see what is happening in New York. Are you ok?” she asked. Cathy knew that, before Jackie was born, we lived and worked in New York City. I told her we were all safe in Princeton, and she was audibly relieved. The whole world was watching what was happening here. I was touched by her concern.

The phone rang a third time, and it was Mrs. G. She asked if it was ok if she didn’t come that morning to babysit Jackie. She didn’t feel safe going out. I told her that of course I understood.

More calls came in from concerned parents and grandparents. “We’re all ok,” I assured them.

Stories from Friends in the City

Later, I would learn that my sister Anne’s boyfriend, who worked downtown, left his office immediately after the first plane hit, and walked all the way up to the George Washington Bridge to get a cab out of Manhattan and back to his home in Union City. I would hear many stories like his, but the one that stays with me is from someone I met at a party well after that terrible day. He worked in Tower 2. As soon as Tower 1 was hit, even though he didn’t know what the enormous crashing sound was, he simply picked up his cell phone, left his office, got on an elevator, went down to the lobby, and left the building. It crossed his mind that he should probably take the steps in case it was an emergency, but he opted for the fastest way down at his disposal. He didn’t hesitate and he didn’t look back. He didn’t let the announcements telling people not to evacuate confuse him. He knew he had to get out of there, and thank God he did.

I also remember my friend from my days at Dodger Productions, Marcia, telling me how she had just dropped her 2-year-old son Adam off at daycare in Brooklyn and was watching Tower 1 burn across the river when, right before her eyes, a plane flew into Tower 2. I can’t imagine how she felt at that moment.

The image of the towers’ billowing black smoke, and later, after the collapses, the images of the smoldering pile that smoked for literally months, will be clear in my mind’s eye forever. That morning, I had to turn the TV off and go about my day. The reality of what was happening was too terrible to think about. It was impossible to understand. That morning, we couldn’t understand why people were jumping out of the towers. Were they jumping in the hope of being caught and saved? Or did they know they were committing suicide? What led to their decision to jump? Or was there no choice – it was either jump or be burned alive? Why couldn’t some sort of nets be set up to catch the jumpers? Why couldn’t helicopters evacuate people from the rooftops? (I later learned that it was because the heat from the flames was too intense for helicopters to get close to the roofs to attempt rescues.) It was all unfathomable. 

Music Together

Two days later, Jackie and I went to her Music Together class in town. We were able to have a fairly normal class somehow. But at the end, Janet, the teacher, talked about how many local families had missing parents. I hadn’t thought about all the Princeton residents who commute to the financial district in NY every day. As she spoke, the children got restless and start to cry. After class, my friend Cindy said that she was stunned by how the babies cried, obviously because they sensed something was terribly wrong. I thought they were just bored because the music and singing had stopped and they were being ignored. Either way, we all left the class quite shaken.

Broadway

In addition to being in contact with Marcia, I was also in touch with other Broadway friends. Sandy was the Company Manager of the splashy revival of 42^nd Street at the Ford Center (now the Lyric) on W. 42^nd St. that had just opened in May. All Broadway performances had been canceled that Tuesday and Wednesday due to the tragic events, and attendance took a noticeable dip when the shows re-opened.

Source: IBDB.com

Sandy told me that the Assistant Choreographer and Dance Captain for 42^nd Street, Kelli Barclay, wanted to do something to help, so she designed, and enlisted other cast and shop members to help make, dog tag necklaces with red, white and blue rhinestones on them in the shape of an American flag. They sold them to raise money for the victims of the terrorist attacks. I loved this intersection of Broadway glitz, patriotism and community, and asked Sandy to mail me a bunch so that I could sell them, too. We were really excited when one of the necklaces was worn by a model in a white t-shirt on the cover of a department store catalog (Macy’s? Bloomingdales?) that I got in the mail the following month. I still have my necklace, and wear it whenever I’m feeling patriotic.

 

Cindy and I wanted to do something to help, too, but we didn’t know what we could do with our one-year-olds. Finally, we decided that we would take the train into the City to show that we weren’t afraid of a future terrorist plot, as many people were. Tourism was down; Broadway ticket sales were down. We’d go in and spend a little money to give the City a shot in the arm. So, on Wed., Sept. 19, we drove to the Princeton Junction train station together with our babies. We were not prepared for what we would see there: the devastating “missing” signs and posters with pictures of lost loved ones all over the train station, cars in the parking lot that were clearly unclaimed from the previous week. The reality became tangible. 

The off-peak train was eerily quiet. When I sneezed, it felt like everyone in the car said, “Bless you.” The kindness between passengers was palpable. This was in stark contrast to my years of commuting before Jackie was born. One evening in 2000, mid-pregnancy, the train out of the City was so packed that I had to stand in the aisle. I felt faint and nauseous, and needed to sit down. I thought, “I have two options. I can either sit down in the aisle and put my head between my knees, or I can make a general announcement that I’m pregnant and need a seat – perhaps someone would get up for me.” I opted for the latter. If it had been Sept. 19, 2001, there’s no question someone would have given me his or her seat.

When we got off the train at Penn Station, we were greeted by men and women in fatigues and helmets carrying automatic rifles. Perhaps this was supposed to be a reassuring sight, but for me, it was scary. We tried not to stare as we rushed pass them, put our kids into their umbrella strollers, and made a bee-line for my old office at Dodger Productions in Times Square. Sandy, my friend and former colleague, was there and getting ready to cover the matinee of 42^nd Street. She did something that I had never seen in all my years of working on Broadway: she asked if we wanted to come watch the show. I was stunned. There were never any comps for Broadway shows, so I wasn’t sure what she was offering. She said that she would set up two folding chairs in the back of the orchestra for us. So, with our babies on our laps, Cindy and I got to watch the first act of 42^nd Street, and our well-behaved kids got their first taste of Broadway.

 

Major League Baseball

Meanwhile, before the events of Sept. 11, my family had been preparing to celebrate my grandfather’s 90^th birthday on Monday, Sept. 17. My mother had bought six tickets (Grammy, her friend’s son - Tyler, Gramps, John, Lisa and Jackie) to the Philadelphia Phillies game at Veteran’s Stadium against the Atlanta Braves for the very night of his birthday. We also arranged for his name to be scrolled on the jumbotron to commemorate his birthday, and for a surprise celebration at our seats. After Sept. 11, the major league baseball season had also been temporarily suspended, so we didn’t know if we would get to have the party. Happily, MLB Commissioner Bud Selig announced that the season would resume on Monday, Sept. 17. (The whole season was pushed back a week.)

There was energy in the air as we found our way to our seats high above the first base line that night. American flags were distributed to everyone upon his/her arrival. We got there early, and waited for the pre-game ceremony. When the color guard brought out the American flag for the National Anthem, the crowd went crazy, slowly at first, but by the time the color guard was in position, everyone was on his or her feet, cheering for our men and women in uniform. Grandpop was confused. Actually, I was, too, at first. It seems that we were all slow to catch on, but eventually, everyone realized that this was our opportunity to show our pride in our nation, its strength, and its traditions. I explained to my 90-year-old grandfather that this was the first game after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, and the fans were cheering to thank our troops for protecting and defending us. Since Grandpop was a World War II veteran, we were thanking him, too.

And PS, the Phillies won, 5-2.

Everyone who lived through 9/11 has his or her story about how he or she experienced that terrible day and the aftermath, just like the members of my parents’ generation remember vividly where they were when they heard that Kennedy was dead on Nov. 22, 1963. For the most part, the only people who were alive on Sept. 11, 2001 but have no memory of it are the babies and small children. They were there, being kept safe. The only world they would ever know is less predictable, and more dangerous, than the one they were born into. Being on high alert for terrorist threats is now normal for all of us. 

###

More American Theatre Articles

I'm proud of the growing list of articles that I've been kindly commissioned to write for American Theatre magazine. Here are links to five more over the past year:

https://www.americantheatre.org/2018/06/25/see-old-friends-make-new-ones-my-tcg18-impressions/

https://www.americantheatre.org/2018/05/29/expanding-autism-friendly-work-under-a-big-umbrella/

https://www.americantheatre.org/2018/01/23/the-big-ask/

My favorite:  https://www.americantheatre.org/2017/12/18/hemp-houses-know-the-ropes/

https://www.americantheatre.org/2017/12/01/tcg-fall-forum-a-collegial-conversation-about-systemic-challenges/

Who Owns Your Theater?

Dear Reader,

I am sorry that it has been over a year since I've published an article in this blog. I've been working full-time in New Brunswick, so time for writing has been scarce. I have written an article for American Theatre magazine, though, which you can find by following this link: http://www.americantheatre.org/2017/08/01/to-own-or-to-rent-that-is-the-question/

Below is my original, longer article.  Thanks for reading!  Lisa

Who Owns Your Theatre?   by Lisa Lacroce Patterson

 “It’s coming down,” the Producing Artistic Director said casually in the theater’s lobby last year.

“What’s coming down?” the patron asked.

“The building. It’s going to be torn down. I’m not sure when, but we’re going to be homeless for a while.”

Even though it was only 26 years old, Crossroads Theatre in New Brunswick, NJ, along with the adjacent George Street Playhouse, is now being razed to make room for a $215 million high-rise to be built on a combination of public and private lots. The proposed 25-story tower will have two theaters similar in size to the old Crossroads and George Street, along with some rehearsal studios, a few floors of offices, and will be topped off by several levels of apartments.

To varying degrees, Crossroads and George Street have been involved in planning the New Brunswick Performing Arts Center, and they vacated their buildings in the spring and will be displaced for at least two years.  “It’s a good thing,” Marshall Jones, Crossroads’ Producing Artistic Director, says encouragingly. “George Street had outgrown their building. We are all optimistic that this will be a great opportunity for us to continue doing what we do in a new arts center that meets the needs of our audiences and artists.”

Crossroads Theatre Company, one of the nation’s premier African American theatres, was founded in 1978. In 1991, Crossroads moved from its modest 120-seat theatre into the $4 million theatre facility built especially for them with funds raised by the New Brunswick Cultural Center. The facility, situated next to the George Street Playhouse and the historic presenting State Theatre New Jersey, was four stories tall and contained a 350-seat theatre, spaces for set and costume shops, rehearsal studios and offices. Generous, right?

Crossroads Theatre in New Brunswick, NJ, demolition in progress. 

Photo by Lisa Lacroce Patterson

While Crossroads was the beneficiary of a brand-new theater in which to operate, there were many strings attached, including the fact that it was obligated to pay market-rate rent, and it was responsible for the operations, utilities and upkeep of the entire building. This crippled the small theater company, and, shortly after it was awarded the 1999 Tony Award for Outstanding Regional Theatre, it shut down with a debt of over $2 million.

Over the next several years, and with a lot of help, Crossroads’ debt was in part paid-off, in part forgiven. Jones, an Associate Professor of Theater at Rutgers’ Mason Gross School of the Arts with two decades of theater management experience, was hired to resuscitate the company in 2007, just in time for the economic crisis of 2008. It’s been a struggle ever since, but despite ongoing financial difficulties, Jones has managed to produce exceptional work over the past ten years.

After his challenging experience maintaining the Crossroads building, Jones is hoping that this new performing arts center will provide the support they’ve long needed, but nothing is guaranteed as of yet. This season, Jones is launching “Crossroads on the Road,” with productions at Middlesex County College, NJ PAC and Rutgers University. George Street Playhouse, meanwhile, will be presenting its season in the former home of the Agricultural Museum of NJ on Rutgers’ Douglass College campus in New Brunswick. David Saint, the Artistic Director of George Street who has directed in 34 theatres across the country, says, “We are beyond thrilled that the New Brunswick Performing Arts Center is coming to fruition after 15 years of planning. Joseph Papp once said, ‘Theaters are like grapes – they grow better in bunches.’ I couldn’t agree with him more!”

***

Crossroads’ experiences raise the important question of theater ownership and how it affects operations and programming.  Let’s take a look at some other ownership scenarios around the country.

Self-Ownership

There are plusses to owning and operating one’s own building.  You can set your own schedule without having to take into consideration potential conflicts with partner organizations or the whims of a landlord. You are in control. Of course, you are then responsible for all the upkeep of your building, partially shifting a portion of the organization’s focus from theatrical production to property management, but some would say that it’s a small price to pay.

An example of apparently idyllic self-ownership is Writers Theatre (WT), a 25-year-old company that opened two new performance spaces under one roof in Glencoe, IL, (just north of Chicago) last year after completing a $33 million capital campaign. 

Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL. Photo by Steve Hall © Hedrich Blessing

The only complication is that the land on which the beautiful new theatre is situated is the property of The Woman’s Library Club of Glencoe, which owned the building that previously stood on the lot and which Writers Theatre had rented and outgrown. WT now holds a 99-year lease on the land, for which it pays an annual rent of $1, and both organizations share the facility. 

“The Writers Theatre has enjoyed a strong relationship with the Woman’s Library Club since we first partnered in sharing the building,” says WT founding Artistic Director Michael Halberstam.  “The members are very respectful of our schedule and happy to leave the maintenance and stewardship of the property to us. We were able to build our theatre center in the center of the Village of Glencoe owing to the club’s trust and generosity, and the club has been able to boost membership as a result of having a gorgeous new home.”

Ownership by a For-Profit Organization

Founded in 1973 in Philadelphia, the Wilma Project, renamed the Wilma Theater in 1981, also eventually outgrew its space. After a seven-year planning process that included an ambitious capital campaign, the Wilma opened its distinctive, new theatre on Philadelphia’s Avenue of the Arts in 1996 in a building on a prime commercial lot, both owned by a private developer, for which it holds a 99-year lease.

According to James Haskins, Managing Director, “We are responsible for the maintenance and upkeep of the internal systems. Now that the building is twenty years old, we are facing the challenges of operating in an aging facility. A very significant way we are addressing these challenges is by transforming our lobby into a full-service café and renovating our façade.”  In January, the Wilma announced a $10 million capital campaign to set up what they call a “Transformation Fund” that will allow for these and other upgrades.

Rendering of the planned refreshed façade of the Hugh Hardy-designed 

Wilma Theater on the Avenue of the Arts in Philadelphia, PA. 

Image courtesy of Kristen Robinson

Wilma Theater’s Artistic Director, Blanka Zizka, has this to say on the subject: “Having a space is both a dream and trap. Artists have to be open to the world, flexible, and nimble. Space offers continuity, but sometimes it becomes restrictive. Live performance needs a space; having an intimate knowledge of your space is both satisfying and also challenging. That same knowledge of your space can turn into comfort and even routine.  The space is demanding. It needs to be taken care of. It needs to be programmed. It has expectations. It asks for calendars and rules. Art asks for none of that. Art asks for learning, risk taking, experimentation. Space needs to serve the art. But in many institutions, that notion gets turned around and art ends up serving the space. This tension between space and art is something that is constantly on my mind.” 

University Ownership

Other theater managers, like Marshall Jones, might counter that collaboration with a university is preferable.  McCarter Theatre, the 1994 Regional Theatre Tony Award-winning theater company in Princeton, NJ, produces its work in a building owned by Princeton University that dates to 1930. Thirty years after it opened, at the beginning of the great American regional theater movement, “McCarter Theatre Company” began producing plays there, receiving independent 501 (c)(3) status in 1963. Ten years later, McCarter took over all artistic programming of the building and began paying an annual nominal rent to the University.  The University still periodically uses the building for special events, but McCarter operates independently as a full-service producing and presenting organization.  

The façade of the Matthews Theatre, 

the largest performance space in McCarter Theatre Center, Princeton, NJ. 

Photo by Matt Pilsner

The construction of the 373-seat Berlind Theatre in 2003 led to the creation of a new organizational title, “McCarter Theatre Center for the Performing Arts.”  However, McCarter does not have exclusive use of the Berlind, as 50% of the construction cost was provided via a partnership with the University. In exchange, the University uses it in the fall and spring, for a total academic use of approximately 16 weeks. Even with that use, McCarter's Managing Director Tim Shields says, "McCarter Theatre’s ability to have a theatre such as the Berlind has provided so much to our artistry and to our patrons.  We’re so appreciative of the myriad of ways in which the University and McCarter join forces in support of the arts."

There can be confusion among McCarter’s patrons, some of whom believe that the organization is wholly owned by the University and thus might not need their contributions. McCarter works hard to get the correct messaging out in order to maximize its fundraising efforts, and overall the relationship is overwhelmingly positive.

“There are many benefits to running a theater company from a university-owned building,” says Jeff Woodward, former Managing Director of both McCarter and Syracuse Stage, which operates out of Syracuse University in New York. “Even though McCarter had to raise its own money for renovations, a university is better equipped for building maintenance than a theater company is. At Princeton, there was one guy whose only job was to fix doors!” He went on to explain that the situation at Syracuse Stage was different in that the University was much more integrated with the theater, as classes were held in the building and there were always students around. But it was still a great partnership. “I would encourage any theatre company to forge a strong relationship with a college or university. Princeton students benefited from being taught by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Edward Albee and legendary South African playwright Athol Fugard while I was there. That never would have happened if it wasn’t for McCarter.”

Not every university-theater partnership, however, is ideal. Huntington Theatre Company’s recent experience showed that even a mutually beneficial relationship with a university can go wrong. In 2015, Boston University, which founded the theater company in 1982 and owned the 95-year-old Boston University Theatre in which Huntington operated for 33 years, announced its intention to sell the theater and two adjoining buildings. Over the years, the free use of the theater and cash contributions from the University are estimated to total more than $40 million.

Huntington, which became an independent non-profit in 1986, tried to buy the buildings, but the University accepted a higher bid from a local developer. After much public outcry and the strong support of Boston Mayor Marty Walsh, the new owners have agreed to donate the historic theater to the Huntington and give the company a 99-year lease on an additional 14.000 square feet for a new entrance and new public spaces in the high-rise they are planning to build adjacent to the theatre. Now, Huntington will control the playhouse, which was America’s first tax-exempt theater, and must start a $60 million capital campaign for maintenance, restoration and improvements that had long been deferred by the University. 

The historic Boston University Theatre, 

where the Huntington Theatre Company operates. 

Photo by Paul Marotta

Public Ownership

Jeff Woodward is now the Managing Director of Dallas Theatre Center (DTC), part of the AT&T Performing Arts Center (ATT PAC), which is owned by the City of Dallas. According to Woodward, when a facility was recently flooded, the City and ATT PAC had to work out whose insurance was going to cover it, but DTC was blissfully not involved that administrative labyrinth. “ATT PAC, which is an independent non-profit, is responsible for the operation and maintenance of the complex. DTC has a lease with ATT PAC, not the City,” Woodward reports. “The City of Dallas provides an annual gift to the PAC, but as far as I’m aware, stays out of the day-to-day activity. I think this is a successful partnership because it allows the PAC to be a bit more nimble than a large municipality in maintenance, renovation and operational needs.”

Perhaps Marshall Jones sums it up best when he says, “If you look at the building as the hardware and the plays as the software, I am more interested in the software, and the artists.  I’m not interested in fixing broken toilets. Managing a plant is onerous. The theater was a blessing and a curse. In the new theater, it will be a new era for Crossroads – the building will not be our identity. The work will be, and I welcome that.”

On the whole, regional theater companies that can focus on their work rather than on property management benefit from the support of their proprietors because the fulfillment of their missions can be more easily achieved.

Of the nine theatres referenced in this article, freelance writer Lisa Lacroce Patterson has worked for four of them: The Wilma Theater, McCarter Theatre Center, Crossroads Theatre, and she is currently on the State Theatre New Jersey’s development staff.

Alphabet City

It was 1991.  I was 26 and unattached – no husband, no kids.  So I spent my time doing what I loved to do most: working in the theater, and going to the theater.

The company I worked for was a small, scrappy non-profit, with its Lower East Side, un-heated, un-air conditioned offices on East 2^nd Street, between Avenues A and B.  One particularly bitter cold day, I accidentally melted the rubber soles of my shoes because my feet were too close to the space heater I had under my desk.

It was a colorful neighborhood back then – colorful being a euphemism.  Nowadays, I hear there’s a Starbucks or a GAP on every corner, but back then, it was dangerous, with the big, bad Thompson Square Park and all its drug dealers only five blocks away.  I stayed clear of that area.  My office block felt fairly safe, even pleasant, during the day.  One morning, when I was walking to work from where the bus let me off, I heard a rich baritone singing “Up on the Roof” from a fire escape somewhere.  It was a beautiful, surreal moment.  I couldn’t spot the singer, but the sky was a gorgeous, bright blue, contrasting sharply with the deep red of the ornate crowns of the pre-war, walk-up buildings.

I worked long hours, and enjoyed the work.  There was a lot to do for this promising, burgeoning company, and I didn’t mind chipping away at my perpetually long “to-do” list, often well past dinnertime, all by myself in the office. 

One Monday night, I worked until 11pm, when I finally dragged myself to the corner of Avenue A and 2^nd Street to catch a cab home.  I was tired, and there weren’t a lot of cabs around.  I stood there, in the dark, feeling rather vulnerable with my arm out, watching the traffic speed north, when I finally saw a taxi with its light on coming toward me.  I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but then, in a split second, a guy walking a half a block away from me thrust his arm out.  The cab pulled over and he hopped in.  I was incensed!  To a random guy who happened to be walking by, I groused, “Did you see that?!  That guy stole my cab!  Clearly, chivalry is dead!”  The young man kept walking, wordlessly.  A moment later, I saw another cab and thrust my arm out.  The guy I had talked to was now a half a block away, and he put his arm out.  “Oh, no,” I thought.  “Now HE’s going to steal my cab.”  But when the cab pulled over to him, he pointed in my direction and sent the driver down to me.  As I waved my thanks to him and got in the taxi, I heard him yell, “Chivalry is NOT dead!”

I smiled, my faith in humanity restored.  I was so tickled by the story that I immediately told it to the cab driver.  Leaning forward, with my face through the plexi-glass partition so he could hear me, I spoke excitedly, concluding with, “Isn’t that great?!”  The driver agreed that it was, but, he said, he had one question: “Who’s Chivalry?”  

PS – That theater company, Theatre for a New Audience, recently built and opened a beautiful new performing arts center in Brooklyn.  I’d like to think that my hard work all those years ago had a little something to do with its success.  www.tfana.org

No More Lazy Boards

In an Oct. 4, 2015 article (http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/05/arts/music/carnegie-hall-faces-internal-strife-ahead-of-anniversary-season.html), Michael Cooper of The New York Times reported that the recent management conflict at Carnegie Hall “has raised anew questions about the proper roles of boards and staffs at nonprofit institutions.”  However, neither deep discussion nor answers have resulted. So, I thought I’d take the time to write about it.  How involved should a board be in the day-to-day operations of a non-profit?

Background

Among the most stark differences between non-profit and for-profit organizations is their boards of directors.  Many publicly held for-profit corporations pay often high-profile individuals large sums to sit on their boards.  One such example is when, in 2011, IAC/InterActiveCorp, an internet media company, controversially appointed the then 31-year-old Chelsea Clinton, daughter of Bill and Hillary Clinton, to their board, paying her $50,000/year plus $250,000 worth of IAC shares.  She joined such hard-hitters as Michael Eisner, former Disney CEO, and Hollywood talent agent Bryan Lourd.  Corporate board appointments are famously coveted for their high pay for minimal work.  One businessman acquaintance in need of income told me that he asked a friend of his to get him on a corporate board to help alleviate the financial pressures he was experiencing.  Conversely, in season 7 of “The West Wing,” fictional White House press secretary cum chief of staff C.J. Cregg (played by Allison Janney, pictured above) flat-out refused to consider these kinds of posts because of their superficiality and emptiness when she was considering her next move after leaving office. 

The other side of the coin is membership on non-profit boards.  Rather than being paid to sit on them, non-profit board members, who are responsible for ensuring that the organization carries out its mission and for setting over-arching policies, are expected to be high-level donors, getting no cash return for their investments but instead only a small tax break and the knowledge that they are helping a needy community.  And rather than doing minimal work, the best non-profit board members not only donate generously, but also roll up their sleeves and fundraise, serve on committees, and serve as management consultants.  It is rare that one board member can be strong on both the financial and expertise-sharing fronts, so it is generally accepted that involvement may be tipped to one side or the other, being mindful that 100% of the board members should make a financial contribution every year, even if it’s only a small one.   

The paid, executive leadership of an organization reports to the board, so the board is the entity that is ultimately responsible for the fiscal health and long-term stability of the organization.  Sadly, though, there is a recent trend away from hands-on, traditional board involvement.  It has been observed that people want to be on non-profit boards for status and prestige, without having to give large sums, take responsibility for the organization, or do any of the work.  In the case of arts organizations, how many times has a board member shown up at the box office for a sold-out show demanding tickets, saying, “I’m on the board,” and expecting preferential treatment?  Yet, many non-profit board members take on the responsibility even though they already have full plates, juggling high-pressure jobs, demanding family lives, and their preferred recreational activities.  Many board members barely even attend board meetings, let alone donate time or money.

The most conscientious non-profits do a thorough prospective board member training before the annual board elections are held.  That way, prospective members have a full understanding of what is expected of them when they agree to join the board.  What many non-profit board prospects do not understand is that, after agreeing to sit on a board, they become legally responsible for the organization.  According to Grantspace.org:

The main legal responsibilities of a nonprofit board are often summarized in the "three Ds":

Duty of care: Board members are expected to actively participate in organizational planning and decision-making and to make sound and informed judgments.

Duty of loyalty: When acting on behalf of the organization, board members must put the interests of the nonprofit before any personal or professional concerns and avoid potential conflicts of interest.

Duty of obedience: Board members must ensure that the organization complies with all applicable federal, state, and local laws and regulations, and that it remains committed to its established mission.

In addition to its legal responsibilities, the board acts in a fiduciary role by maintaining oversight of the nonprofit's finances. Board members must evaluate financial policies, approve annual budgets, and review periodic financial reports to ensure that the organization has the necessary resources to carry out its mission and remains accountable to its donors and the general public.

The board acts as trustee of the organization's assets and ensures that the nonprofit is well managed and remains fiscally sound. In doing so, the board must exercise proper oversight of the organization's operations and maintain the legal and ethical accountability of its staff and volunteers.

Board members can be sued, and in some states their personal assets jeopardized, if lack of oversight results in a law suit. It’s for this reason that individuals are well advised to get Directors and Officers Liability Insurance (D&O Insurance) if they decide to sit on a board.  

Non-profit board members have been called “the ultimate volunteers” by many non-profit managers over the years, but often times, staff would rather have less active board members, because board members can create more work rather than help alleviate the heavy burdens of the often over-worked and under-paid staff.  Volunteers require guidance, coaching and supervision.  And because everyone knows that volunteers can potentially be unreliable (“You get what you pay for” being a popular mantra), many managers would rather do the work themselves just to be sure that it gets done, and gets done correctly.

Frequently, because board members donate their time and their money, the staff is in the awkward position of worrying about offending them with candid direction or coaching in light of the fact that whatever they say will most likely affect the amount of the board member’s annual giving.  So, staff doesn’t feel as though they can talk freely with board members, hindering the board members’ success at whatever project they are volunteering to help with.

Additionally, some of the wealthiest board members candidly admit that they do not have any time to give, but will still write big checks.  According to the executive director of a Philadelphia non-profit arts organization, that’s ok.  “We need the money,” he told me.

Another trend is away from requiring a minimum “give or get” contribution for the sake of board diversity.  The misguided thinking goes as follows: institutional donors (like foundation and government sources) look for ethnic diversity in non-profit organizations;  however, ethnic groups like blacks and Latinos do not have the disposable income to contribute significantly to non-profits, so they shouldn’t be required to donate, or to fundraise from their equally financially challenged friends.  So, the “give or get” requirement is unfair and eliminated.

These trends have put more pressures on the dedicated staffs of non-profits.  Their boards expect them to work tirelessly so that their organizations fulfill their ambitious missions by implementing impactful programs and serving broad constituencies, and growing the organization.  The pressure to put in long hours is enormous.  It will be interesting to see, starting December 1, how the new and complicated Labor Department regulation requiring time-and-a-half overtime pay for most employees making under $47,476 affects non-profits.  Surely, productivity will be affected, because the salary line in the non-profit expense budget is always the last to be raised.  The Labor Department says that 4.2 million workers will become newly eligible for overtime, but it’s unclear how many of them work for non-profit organizations.  Will leadership expect the workers to work overtime and not ask for the additional pay?  If the millennial generation’s steadfast protection of their rights is any indication, that’s not going to work.

So today, we are seeing non-profit board members who, for whatever reasons, cannot give of their time or their money.  So what good are they?  Is it all just a façade?

The Carnegie Hall Controversy

In the fall of 2015, the traditional non-profit board/staff relationship was put to the test by the reputedly combative businessman Ronald O. Perelman, who had recently taken on the role of chairman of Carnegie Hall’s board, and who was a long-time, eight-figure major donor to the organization. 

Mr. Perelman saw his role as a contributor of money and of time, and he rolled up his sleeves, ready to take responsibility for the organization.  He asked questions.  He expected answers.  But was he obstructionist?  Was he out of line?

According to The New York Times, two issues in particular drew Mr. Perelman’s attention.  One was the upcoming awarding of the new annual Warner Music Prize.  The prize promotes the Warner name, and Warner is owned by a firm that was founded by Len Blavatnik, who sits on Carnegie Hall’s board.  An interesting backstory is that in 2011, Sony (who was working with Perelman at the time) was vying against Mr. Blavatnik’s firm to buy Warner.   Concerned about a potential conflict of interest over the music prize, Mr. Perelman wanted to make sure the relationship between Carnegie Hall and Warner was properly vetted before executive and artistic director Clive Gillinson signed a contract related to the prize.  However, Mr. Gillinson signed the agreement “over Mr. Perelman’s objections.”

Strictly speaking, Gillinson reports to Perelman, and so should have heeded Perelman’s wishes to hold off on signing.  Perelman wanted lawyers to investigate the relationship between Warner and Carnegie Hall, which could have taken a long time, and which certainly would have been expensive, and which also would have jeopardized the award grant itself.  One can imagine that Gillinson might have unilaterally decided that there was no impropriety and did not want to hold up the process of making sure that the prize would be awarded at the October gala by giving in to Perelman’s wishes.  Perhaps he saw Perelman only as a meddlesome figure-head, and not as a truly responsible board chairman.  Or maybe he thought that Perelman lacked integrity and wanted to throw a wrench into the works just to get even with Blavatnik after losing Warner to him.  Regardless, it’s clear that Gillinson wanted to get on with “business as usual” and so moved forward, and Perelman called him on it. 

The second issue that Perelman raised was a lack of fiscal transparency to the board.  While I am sure there is a finance committee that looks at periodic (perhaps quarterly) broad-stroke statements, the committee may not be shown details that Perelman sought.  He asked to see profit and loss statements for particular recitals that Carnegie Hall presented.  According to the NY Times article on Oct. 4, 2015, he was “told that such financial information was never shared with the board or even the chairman.”  If this story is true, I can’t help but wonder who had the chutzpa to say that to the board chairman?!  Obviously, artist fees are typically kept secret from the general public to avoid bidding wars between rival performers.   The Times reported that, after stalling, Carnegie officials ultimately did provide Perelman with the information he sought.  It is incumbent upon the board leadership to keep sensitive information from becoming public, and the staff most certainly should not keep important fiscal information from the board leadership. 

Perhaps the staff did not trust Perelman with keeping the classified information secret, and feared the time and money repercussions should the numbers leak.  Or worse, perhaps the staff thought that Perelman wanted the information not for reasons of fiscal oversight, but for personal reasons.  Heck, it would be interesting to know what a high-profile soloist like Yo-Yo Ma is paid for a gig at Carnegie Hall. 

The New York Times reported that “Mr. Perelman’s suspicions were apparently aroused when a batch of data he obtained in late May came in an unreadable format.”  I can just imagine an over-worked staffer muttering under his/her breath that they did not have time for this nonsense, and sending a document without taking the time to format it correctly. Perelman, instead of seeing this possibility, distrustingly leapt to an assumption that the staff was trying to hide something.  The real issue may well have been that the staff is not used to having engaged board leadership and does not have the time to be as responsive as Mr. Perelman would have liked.  Maybe the staff is used to a lazy board and doesn’t know how, or have the capabilities, to act when engaged leadership is in place.

Because of the P&L and the Warner Prize issues, Perelman, with the “input” of the board’s secretary and treasurer, but shamefully without the knowledge of the full 15-member executive committee, suspended Gillinson rashly on August 18.  An emergency meeting of the executive committee was called for the following day, at which time Gillinson was immediately re-instated.  Committee members said they felt blind-sided and were angry, justifiably so.  Perelman subsequently announced that he would step down as chair, and an “internal investigation” of the suspected improprieties brought to light by Perelman was underway, although I doubt that the public will ever be made aware of the outcome with Perelman out of the picture.

One organizational choice that seems to put Carnegie Hall in a difficult situation is the title held by Mr. Gillinson: Executive and Artistic Director.  His bio reports that he moved up the leadership ranks from being a musician.  Traditionally, artists become Artistic Directors, and managers become Executive or Managing Directors.  In many non-profit arts organizations, this two-pronged leadership structure, with both directors being paid equally, allows for a balance between the artistic and management concerns of the organization.  It’s also a way to keep checks and balances in line.  Perhaps if there had been a managerial counterpart to Mr. Gillinson, much of this recent hullaballoo could have been avoided.

Lazy Boards

Perelman notwithstanding, most non-profit boards would undoubtedly rather put all their faith in the executive staff rather than take what precious little time they have to get involved, ask the hard questions, and act to rectify negative situations.  No one wants to make waves.  Sometimes, board members just want to “save face,” keeping a low profile so that no one will notice to what extent they do not understand their role as a non-profit board member.  Other times, they are just lazy.

“Rectifying negative situations” may sometimes mean taking the difficult step of replacing under-performing, or just plain bad, executive leadership, a process that is stressful and time-consuming for a board, who has to not only deliver the bad news to the leader, but make sure that all actions are taken legally to avoid a law suit, form a search committee, invest already stretched budgetary funds in hiring a search firm, and interview candidates to find a suitable replacement.  Often times, this daunting “to-do list” is what tragically keeps a board wedded to an incompetent staff leader.  And it’s the organization, the subordinate staff, and ultimately the community that pays the price.

After all, change is hard.  To quote the introduction of Common Sense (1776) by Thomas Paine:

Perhaps the sentiments contained in the following pages are not yet sufficiently fashionable to procure them general favor.  A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong gives it a superficial appearance of being right… 

Paine, of course, was referring to the King of England’s abuse of power.  But these sentences apply to many other situations throughout history and up to the present day.  Perelman stepped down from being Carnegie Hall’s chairman, and probably would not have been re-elected anyway, because he made “unfashionable” waves that the rest of the board and the staff were not prepared for and did not want to deal with.  Conversely, he acted in a rash and unilateral way that was entirely inappropriate. It’s a shame.

The Way it Should Be

• Board prospects should be fully aware of, and in agreement with, what is required for membership before they agree to be added to a slate of nominees.
•  Fundraising duties should always be on the list of board responsibilities for every board member.  Making “asks” is often outside the comfort zone of some people, but there are ways for those individuals to help with fundraising that do not include face-to-face asks, such as sharing prospect contact information, and allowing the use of his/her name in proposals.
• There should be a “give or get” policy for all members, regardless of race, but taking into consideration what is practical in order not to shut out any socio-economic groups. 
• Time commitments, such as committee participation and general meeting attendance, should be articulated and agreed to in writing.  Dates for all meetings should be announced at the beginning of each fiscal year in order to give plenty of advance notice.
• There should be a Governance Committee of the board that tracks giving, fundraising, committee involvement and meeting attendance.  The committee should produce a Board Report Card for each board member that is reviewed in person at the end of each fiscal year.  It is important that this is a board member – to – board member meeting, as it wouldn’t work if a staff member prepared the report cards.  Peer-to-peer evaluation is necessary. 
• Failure to fulfill board commitments despite the support of the governance committee and of the staff should be grounds for rotating “dead wood” off the board.  Being on a non-profit board is not a decision to make lightly.  It’s a serious responsibility.

Many non-profits are afraid to be so demanding.  They worry that no one would be willing to join their boards, or make big donations, if they make the board requirements too strongly.  But the benefits of being on a board should also be articulated clearly: being listed as a board member in publications, ticket perks (if there are any), prime gala seating – whatever they are.  It is not one-sided, although ideally, board members should be supportive for unselfish reasons. 

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CODA:  http://www.nytimes.com/2016/06/23/arts/music/with-big-gift-carnegie-to-name-tier-of-boxes-for-blavatnik-family.html?_r=0

For further reading:  The Board Book: An Insider’s Guide for Directors and Trustees by William G. Bowen

Special thanks to Stanley N. Katz for his input to the post.