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Small Wins, Big Lessons: They Stopped Doing Something, and Got Better

Writer: Tanesha Ford
Tanesha Ford
Oct 17
5 min read
Mid-century modern article header for For de Arts Consulting featuring the title “They Stopped Doing Something, and Got Better.” A Kaizen-inspired progression of colorful circles, curved arrows, and ascending geometric shapes symbolizes continuous improvement and organizational change. The design features mustard yellow, burnt orange, teal blue, and cream, with “Small Wins, Big Lessons” at the top, “Marketing Moments” at the bottom left, and the 4DA logo at the bottom right.

This 7:52-minute audio sound bite has been digitally created to provide an accessible listening option.

"This is the forking Bad Place!"


Man, that moment in the first season of The Good Place deserves a spot in television history alongside "Who Shot J.R.?" I absolutely didn't see it coming, and I remember thinking how brilliantly the show pulled the rug out from under everything I thought I understood.


What made the revelation even more interesting was discovering that Michael had been experimenting with a new approach to an established system. His elaborate neighborhood was an attempt to improve upon the traditional methods of the Bad Place, even if his definition of improvement was, shall we say, ethically questionable.


Now, I'm going to assume Michael had solid data to back his experiment, because even demons should have performance measures.


Naturally, my busy little brain wandered from the afterlife to the nonprofit arts organizations I've worked with over the years, where I've witnessed change move with the speed of cold molasses in January and, occasionally, with the grace and agility of an Olympic gymnast.


It got me thinking about what happens as organizations move through different stages of their organizational life cycles. How do we recognize when the programs that helped establish our identity are no longer the ones best positioned to advance our mission?


Welcome to the third and final installment of Small Wins, Big Lessons, where we're exploring "They Stopped Doing Something, and Got Better."

When Yesterday's Success Becomes Today's Obligation


If you've worked in nonprofit arts administration long enough, you've probably encountered a program that everybody agrees is important, although nobody can quite articulate why it remains a priority.

Maybe it's an annual event that began twenty years ago, a publication that once served an essential purpose, or an educational initiative developed when community needs looked considerably different.

These programs often carry institutional history, loyal supporters, and staff members who have invested years of their professional lives making them successful.


That history deserves respect.


But longevity alone cannot tell us whether something continues to deliver meaningful value.

Organizations accumulate responsibilities remarkably easily. New initiatives emerge from strategic plans, funding opportunities, community requests, and enthusiastic board conversations. Each addition comes with expectations, while relatively few existing commitments receive the same rigorous examination.


Eventually, we're maintaining an impressive collection of activities, and our staff capacity has somehow remained exactly the same.

The real question becomes whether we're continuing a program because it advances our mission or because stopping it would require a difficult conversation.

South Arts Made the Difficult Call: Every Yes Has a Cost


In September 2019, South Arts announced that its longstanding Performing Arts Exchange (PAE) conference would conclude after that year's gathering.


For decades, PAE had connected artists, presenters, agents, managers, and other performing arts professionals, serving tens of thousands of people and becoming an important part of the organization's history.

The decision followed a strategic planning process examining which programs continued to meet constituent needs and where South Arts could deepen its impact. The performing arts landscape had evolved, with other showcasing conferences, digital communication, and new approaches to professional development creating alternative opportunities for connection.


Meanwhile, South Arts was investing in initiatives such as Jazz Road, Momentum, and In These Mountains, alongside expanded grantmaking and organizational resilience efforts. Ending PAE allowed the organization to redirect resources toward priorities it believed could better serve the field.

I appreciate that South Arts acknowledged both the program's legacy and the difficulty of ending it. While the announcement doesn't establish that subsequent initiatives produced better outcomes, it demonstrates an important principle: a successful program can complete its useful life without being deemed a failure.


This brings us to one of the most overlooked expenses in nonprofit arts organizations: the opportunity cost of maintaining activities simply because they've become familiar.


Consider an annual program requiring months of staff coordination, promotional campaigns, volunteer management, and administrative attention. Even when direct expenses are covered, those hours have value. What community relationships might staff develop with that time? What existing programs could receive deeper attention?


The Bridgespan Group's 2006 article, Business Planning for Nonprofits: What It Is and Why It Matters, makes a compelling case for examining programs according to their intended impact, organizational capabilities, and required resources. It describes organizations using strategic planning to change, expand, or discontinue activities based on where they could contribute most meaningfully.


That examination requires looking beyond attendance figures and budgets to understand who benefits, how community needs have evolved, and whether another organization might be better positioned to provide a particular service.


Ultimately, we must be willing to acknowledge that something we once championed may have reached the end of its useful chapter.

Stewardship Sometimes Requires a Graceful Exit


The Joan Mitchell Foundation offers another example. Its 2020–2024 strategic plan identified programs for sunsetting or conclusion, including Emergency Grants and Early Art Practitioners pilot initiatives, allowing the Foundation to concentrate resources on priorities such as unrestricted support for artists.


Arts organizations often associate stewardship with preservation. We protect artistic traditions, cultural spaces, and community relationships, but stewardship also requires examining whether today's investments support tomorrow's mission.


Sometimes that means redesigning a program, transferring responsibility, reducing its scope, or thoughtfully bringing it to a close.

intage mid-century modern illustration of a rabbit wearing a blue hoodie labeled “PROGRAM” and carrying a green backpack, waving goodbye as it walks toward a golden sunset. Three smiling rabbits wave farewell beneath a “Happy Sunset” banner. The woodland scene features geometric shapes, warm earth tones, olive green, mustard yellow, deep blue, and textured linocut-style artwork.

That last consideration matters because sunsetting carries an equity responsibility. A program that appears inefficient on paper may provide essential access for communities with few alternatives. Before ending it, we must consider who might lose access, which relationships could be disrupted, and whether other services can genuinely meet those needs.


Staff, artists, participants, and partners deserve transparent communication and opportunities to participate in the transition. A graceful exit might include referrals, transferring resources, or establishing a clear timeline for concluding commitments.


And sometimes, thoughtful evaluation reveals that a program deserves to continue with renewed purpose. The goal is to make decisions that honor both our mission and the communities we serve.

The Courage to Rewrite the System


What I appreciate about The Good Place is how its characters recognize that progress requires questioning assumptions, acknowledging mistakes, and imagining alternatives.


Nonprofit arts organizations face similar challenges as they evolve. While our decisions involve fewer frozen yogurt shops and considerably less eternal damnation, we become attached to programs that reflect our organizational identity and personal investment.


Yet stopping something can be an act of stewardship, and mistakes can become valuable teachers when we're willing to examine them.

For marketing and communications professionals, consider the newsletter nobody has evaluated in years, the social platform maintained out of habit, or the annual campaign consuming weeks of effort.

What purpose do these activities serve today, and what might become possible if that investment changed?


As we close Small Wins, Big Lessons, consider:


What are you maintaining because it still matters, and what are you maintaining because stopping it feels uncomfortable?

Maybe your next big win begins with giving something permission to end.

Research and further reading

Comments


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