By Sarahia Benn
“Maryland artists just saved the arts budget, and yet somehow, we still can’t get a grant. It’s like showing up to your own party and being told the punch bowl is for everyone else.” – Sarahia Benn
For decades, I’ve worked as an artist, educator and advocate for public arts funding in Maryland. I’ve lobbied, testified and organized to ensure that the Maryland State Arts Council (MSAC) remained well-funded—because I deeply believed in accessible, community-based art.
This year, advocacy efforts “worked”: Maryland’s arts budget remained intact. On paper, $31.25 million in operating funds and $3 million in capital funding was preserved. Victory? Sure—if you’re reading the press release. For working artists, it’s starting to feel like winning a lottery ticket only to find out the payout is a coupon for free office supplies.
I recently received notice that my Creativity Grant scored 88 percent (woohoo…), but the threshold was set at 91 percent. Three points. A literal hair’s breadth. I asked for a breakdown of the panel’s review, only to see the same old pattern: submit for review, “we are really overwhelmed,” standardized language, in a previous request vague feedback and more opaque than a foggy Maryland morning near the Solomon Islands.
Musicians are told to “apply again,” “add more detail,” and “align more closely with the rubric.” But when the threshold jumps from 87 percent to 90 percent to 91 percent, it feels less like guidance and more like gatekeeping. My project fits the grant’s mission
perfectly—create, develop and promote original work—yet the result was the same. And if it takes six weeks or more to hear that your application is denied? That delay shrinks your ability to reapply, plan or even breathe. A system like this effectively limits artists to a fraction of opportunities each year—bureaucracy masquerading as fairness.
And let’s be clear—this isn’t about Democrats versus Republicans. Maryland artists have been running into these opaque grant processes for years, including under previous administrations. Accountability seems to have taken a permanent vacation. Is this the result of federal budget cuts cascading down? If so, no one bothered to tell us.
Beyond grants, local professional musicians face structural barriers in the very venues MSAC funds. Talented Baltimore and regional musicians often compete with out-of-state or institutional acts for bookings and, when hired, are frequently underpaid. Many are forced into private instruction teaching gigs, private events, regional tours or even international work just to survive. Meanwhile, hubs like Atlanta, Chicago, New York and LA are running thriving local markets. Maryland should too—but only if its local talent has a shot to shine.
Oh, I know what you’re thinking—why didn’t they save? Maybe because some venues are still stuck in the 1970s, cutting checks like disco-era wages… while flying in out-of-state musicians and paying them like Jeff Bezos. IJS.
Equity gaps are clear in panel representation. I’ve applied for five years running to serve as a panel reviewer and have been denied every time without response. Who decides what art is “fundable” matters. Excluding independent and community-based artists ensures equity is a slogan, not practice.
During COVID-19, many skilled musicians—professionals like lawyers who qualified for PPE loans—had to rely on gig work for apps like DoorDash and Flex. That’s not just inconvenient; it’s a structural disparity that affects livelihoods and creative output alike.
If the very musicians who defend and sustain public arts funding are shut out, what message does that send? That we fought for institutions while local creators scramble? That deserves some serious side-eye.
Maryland’s arts ecosystem depends on trust between institutions and the artists who fuel them. When trust erodes, so does vibrancy. Musicians give time, energy and credibility to sustain public arts systems. When the system excludes these contributors, it becomes extractive rather than supportive.
MSAC doesn’t need a “special treatment” plan. It needs transparency, accountability and recalibration:
● Publish funding distribution by geography, discipline and demographics MSAC Artist Directory.
● Explain how panel questions are determined and ensure they align with grant priorities and artistic practice, not arbitrary inquiries.
● Ensure independent and community artists—not just institutional representatives—sit on panels.
● Guarantee timely review timelines so reapplication isn’t a guessing game.
● Recognize local and regional artists as vital to the state’s cultural economy, providing them opportunities and compensation in line with the current economy.
Because here’s the reality: if public arts funding no longer reaches the public (musicians), but instead circulates within a closed loop of “acceptable” recipients, we have to ask—who’s the system really serving?
Art is not gatekeeping.
It’s creation, expression and connection.
The people who make it deserve a fair share of the support their advocacy—and work—makes possible. And if that requires a little snark, a little side-eye and a reminder that we’re all watching, so be it.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.