A Discussion on Oregon’s Arts Funding Debate and Why It Matters for LGBTQIA+ Working Class Artists

Our Future Prairie friends and family recently met up at the Interstate Firehouse Cultural Center to host a discussion on Oregon’s arts funding debate. Here are some of our takeaways. 

In 2014, the Cultural Advocacy Coalition of Oregon (CACO) held a statewide planning event called the Big Think. The goal was to better understand how the organization could advocate for arts, culture, heritage, and humanities across Oregon.
More than a decade later, the same questions are still urgent. From September through December 2025, CACO returned to this work through a new process called the Big Re/Think. The project was funded by the Cultural Advocacy Coalition Foundation and was designed to help shape arts advocacy in advance of the 2027 Oregon legislative session. The process included interviews with policymakers and leaders from arts organizations, a statewide survey, a virtual gathering, and six in person meetings held across different regions of Oregon.

For artists across the state, especially LGBTQIA+ artists from working class backgrounds, the conversation could not be more important. Many queer artists in Oregon are already building culture from the margins. They are organizing shows in small venues, curating community events, running DIY galleries, hosting open mics, making podcasts, teaching workshops, and supporting each other through informal networks of care. Yet the funding systems that are supposed to support the arts often do not reach these artists at all.

One major issue is that the arts sector in Oregon does not speak with one clear voice about its value. Across the state, people describe arts, culture, heritage, and humanities in very different ways. Some talk about tourism and economic development. Others focus on education or community identity. Still others see art as a form of civic engagement or social change. When the sector cannot clearly explain its shared value, it becomes harder to make a strong case for funding. For small artist led projects, especially those outside traditional institutions, this lack of clarity can mean fewer opportunities and less support.

Another major issue is that arts and culture are still widely undervalued in statewide policy conversations. When lawmakers talk about major challenges facing Oregon, the focus is usually on housing, healthcare, transportation, and climate. These issues are critical, but arts and culture are often treated as optional rather than essential. For LGBTQIA+ artists, this disconnect can be especially painful. Art is our survival tool. It is how communities document their stories, process trauma, imagine different futures, and build belonging in a world that has often excluded them. Queer artists in Oregon have been doing this work for generations. But too often they are doing it without stable financial support. 

Funding was one of the most urgent concerns raised during the Big Re/Think process. Across the state, organizations reported that they are struggling to cover basic operating costs. Smaller nonprofits and artist led groups are particularly vulnerable. Many rely on volunteers, short term project grants, or unpaid labor just to keep their programs running. For working class artists, this creates a painful reality. The people producing some of the most innovative cultural work in Oregon are often the least financially supported. This problem becomes even more visible when you look at who has historically had access to funding. Larger institutions with professional grant writers and development staff tend to secure the majority of resources. Meanwhile, grassroots groups led by queer artists, artists of color, disabled artists, and rural artists often struggle to navigate the system.

Participants in the Big Re/Think process also emphasized the need for stronger community involvement in funding decisions. Oregon already has a network of 45 county and tribal Cultural Coalitions connected through the Oregon Cultural Trust. These coalitions help distribute some cultural funding at the local level. Many people believe these groups could play a bigger role in shaping how resources are allocated in the future. Local communities often have a much clearer understanding of which artists and organizations are doing meaningful work on the ground. For LGBTQIA+ artists in smaller towns or rural regions, this could be especially important. Many queer artists outside Portland have limited access to statewide funding networks, even though they are building vital cultural spaces in their own communities.

Another issue raised during the process is that many arts organizations simply do not have enough infrastructure to support their work. Small groups often struggle to handle everyday responsibilities such as marketing, fundraising, donor management, human resources, and financial reporting. These tasks take time, expertise, and administrative capacity that many grassroots organizations simply do not have. Building shared services or statewide support systems could help smaller organizations operate more sustainably and free artists to focus on the creative work that actually builds culture.

Participants acknowledged that there is not yet agreement about how new funding should be used. Some people want to prioritize major institutions that attract tourism and national attention. Others believe the focus should be on community based arts, independent artists, and smaller organizations that are directly embedded in local neighborhoods. This debate is healthy. It reflects a sector that is actively trying to figure out what kind of cultural future Oregon wants to build.

As we prepare an advocacy strategy for the 2027 legislative session, four major questions remain: 

1. How can Oregon create a more stable statewide funding system for arts and culture?
2. Should the coalition advocate for specific funding priorities, and if so which ones?
3. How can arts organizations partner with other sectors, such as tourism, to strengthen the case for public investment?
4. How can communities themselves stay involved in shaping funding decisions?

These questions determine whether our artists can afford to stay in Oregon. They affect whether grassroots cultural spaces can survive. They influence whether our stories continue to be told by the communities who live them. One clear takeaway from the Big Re/Think process is that people across the sector want these conversations to continue. For artists, organizers, and cultural workers across Oregon, the next few years will be a chance to push for a more equitable and sustainable arts ecosystem. The future of Oregon’s cultural policy must include queer culture, community storytelling, and grassroots art as essential to Oregon’s cultural life.