What Do We Do When the House is on Fire?

Ensembles are tired. Ensembles are grieving. We, Ensembles are—against all odds—still dreaming.

This moment we are living in is undeniably heavy. The right to safety and the essential material needs of the most vulnerable are being threatened and erased. Institutions are crumbling under the weight of the very inequities they once upheld. Fear is causing funding to appear… more scarce. Boards falter and break under arguments around “risk mitigation”. Artists and cultural workers, the lifeblood of our communities, are left scrambling for sustainability in a system never built for us to thrive.

We were told transformation was coming, that the doors of access and abundance would finally swing open. Instead, we find ourselves in the eye of the storm, watching the very structures we have fought to reform collapse inward.

And yet—we are here. We are still here.

History has taught us one thing: ensemble makers, collective dreamers, and those who build from shared vision and sweat do not give up– or die without a real fight.

The Weight of the Moment & the Possibility Inside It

There are days when I feel a grief so sharp I swear I can taste it. It’s the grief of watching homes of LA artists burn to a crisp, theaters closing, watching brilliant artists I love from all across the country be forced into decisions no one should have to make between housing and food, their values or the right to work. It is the grief of institutions that promised care but delivered exploitation, of funders who once spoke of ‘bold vision’ now retreating to the safe, the known, the comfortable.

It is the grief of watching a political divide turn into a war on truth. We have entered an era where efforts to make our spaces more just, more equitable, more accountable are framed as radical threats. The attack on DEI is an attack on artists, on collectives, on the very nature of storytelling itself. Executive orders flooding our media, our brains, our scrolls; a demand to remove the justice work from the work of artmaking and community building in order to apply for federal funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. These are not just policy shifts. They are attempts to erase us because the power we hold to organize, to educate, to change through story, to build movements – is actually quite well understood by those threatened by terms like justice, equity, healing. Wars do not begin on the street, they begin with policy that takes away our rights, our dignity, our opportunities for peace. 

We have been here before.

We have already been shown the way forward. In moments of repression, artists of color, those who built movements, and those who shaped revolutions have left us with maps for moments like these. Amiri Baraka insisted that art must be a weapon in the fight for liberation. Cherríe Moraga challenged the structures of exclusion through her writing and her collective organizing. Spiderwoman Theater built a legacy of ensemble-based storytelling rooted in Indigenous knowledge and resilience. We are standing on their shoulders, learning from their blueprints, carrying their work forward.

I said earlier that the grief is so sharp, sometimes I can taste it. But I also know how to gorge on hope. Words from the inimitable Diane Rodriguez provide a good reminder, “Sometimes I ask the question, should I be filled with rage or should I be patient? Patience, I think, for me is about hope. I think you can be enraged and still have hope”. 

Murial Borst & Alexandra Meda, NETneXt New Orleans, October 2023

It is easy to look at the state of our field and feel despair.

But if we, as ensembles, as makers of radical togetherness, surrender to despair, we forget the very thing that makes us who we are. The very thing that has always saved us. Each Other.

What We Are Building Together

NET is not simply a network. It is a lifeline. A practice ground. A sanctuary. A refusal to disappear.

We are here to build. To reimagine. Creating something that does not yet exist but that we know in our bones is possible.

And so we ask:

• What does it mean to rebuild membership in a time of scarcity? It means creating systems of mutual aid, deepening our commitments to one another, and making NET a place where ensemble artists do not simply pass through, but find home.

• What does it mean to build financial stability when philanthropy is pulling back? It means we strategize differently. It means finding new models, new partnerships, new economies of care that sustain us for the long haul.

• What does it mean to tend to our own operations? It means we refuse burnout as a badge of honor. It means we prioritize sustainability—not just for the organization, but for every artist, every worker, every dreamer in this ecosystem.

• What does it mean to amplify the field’s stories? It means we tell the truth. Loudly. Unapologetically. We advocate for each other with a force that cannot be ignored.

• What does it mean to build a new world? It means we stop trying to fit into a system never meant for us. It means we build alternative structures, global solidarities, and networks of power that center the artistry, labor, and brilliance of ensembles.

• What does it mean to lead? It means we reject hierarchies that serve no one. It means we deepen our commitment to shared leadership, to collective visioning, to the radical act of saying: we do not move alone.

This is not abstract. This is what we are doing—now. This is the work of NET. This is the work of every artist, every collective, every dreamer who still believes in what we can create together.

We Need You.

This is the moment when we need each other most, where we refuse to let scarcity make us small. Where we remember that ensembles, at their best, are sites of possibility. Where we recommit to one another with the stubborn belief that the future of theater…of art, of culture, of justice, is not written by institutions that center profit, it is written by those of us who refuse to stop creating and refuse to stay stuck inside of structures designed to choke us.

The Future Is ENSEMBLE.

We have lost much. But we are not lost. We are here. And together, we will build something worth fighting for.

Let’s get to work.

Starting February 27th, you can:

• Sign up for our upcoming events here

• Register as a member here 

• Sign up for a Call for Connection here, and let us know how you are doing. 

In Community,
Alexandra Meda
Producing Director | Shared Leadership Team