
Janet Bewley
Wisconsin Humanities program in Barron County, Summer 2024
In the summer of 2024, a program developed by Wisconsin Humanities brought together Scandinavian-American and Somali-American neighbors in Barron County, in rural northwestern Wisconsin.
[Update: On April 29 the Mellon Foundation announced a one-time infusion of funding for Wisconsin Humanities and other statewide humanities organizations. It buys a crucial moment to plot a survival course for Wisconsin Humanities, but it’s not enough to restart programs or delay staff layoffs. More money will be required to keep the organization afloat so that NEH dollars can be distributed to Wisconsin in the future. Learn more about The Next Chapter Campaign to sustain Wisconsin Humanities at wisconsinhumanities.org/donate.]
On April 3, Wisconsin Humanities’ director Dena Wortzel awoke to alerts from her colleagues at other state offices that an email from an unknown source had been sent late the night before. What she found in her junk folder was an email from the acting chair of the National Endowment for the Humanities stating that, effective immediately, all NEH funding to the states was canceled. This news came just shy of three weeks after President Trump had signed into law the funding bill from Congress that included funds for the NEH and the operating grants for Wisconsin Humanities and all state offices through the end of September. This funding has been a small part of the federal budget negotiated by Congress for over 50 years.
Federal support for the humanities dates back decades. In 1965, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the National Foundation on the Arts and the Humanities Act, which established the National Endowment for the Humanities and the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) as separate, independent agencies. More than 200 people filled the Rose Garden for the bill-signing ceremony. This act came from a groundswell of support from concerned citizens and congressional representatives for the federal government to invest in culture, just as it had invested in science.
The bold idea at the heart of the Arts and Humanities Act was that a functional and healthy democracy demands wisdom and vision in its citizens. The investment in “culture” was a way to balance the fast pace of modern “science” by offering ways for people to stay connected with their humanity. Today, DOGE, President Trump, and some Republicans are claiming that this is a luxury that Americans cannot afford.
Looking back, it makes some sense that the NEH was established not too long after an ugly period in America’s history when some members of our government got caught up in a crusade to weed out the purported threat of Communism. Wisconsin Sen. Joseph McCarthy and his followers spread fear among intellectuals and artists, which proved just how easily an ideology could take a dark turn. The 1960s were also a time when things were changing quickly — the Civil Rights Movement was challenging cultural norms and these new messages were coming more quickly than ever. For the first time, there were TVs in most living rooms, phone calls could be made across oceans, and technology was reaching beyond earth into outer space. There were also powerful new weapons that might be employed to wage war and perhaps destroy civilization. In other words, much like today, the foundation of life on earth was shaken and people were scared.
A few years after the establishment of the NEH, Congress determined that the best way for this federal support to work efficiently and effectively for everyone in the country would be for states to administer the money themselves. It’s a big country and every state has rich culture, local histories, and pressing questions. Since the founding of the federal/state partnership in 1971, nonprofit humanities councils have been locally established and managed in all 56 states and territories. Wisconsin Humanities opened in 1972 and, thanks in part to the cultural norm we call the Wisconsin Idea, has been deeply committed to working in communities rural and urban, big and small, new and old, in every corner of our very large state. Wisconsin depends on this federal partnership more than some because the state budget provides so little funding for the arts and humanities. In fact, Wisconsin ranks 50th in per-capita spending, meaning each Wisconsinite gets about .18 cents compared to about $9.67 in Minnesota and $5.11 in Illinois.
I’m not an unaffected observer in this story. I have worked for Wisconsin Humanities for more than 24 years. My first project was to manage the tour of a Smithsonian exhibition about agricultural history called “Barn Again!” Six rural communities of fewer than 10,000 people hosted the exhibit for six weeks each. Bringing the Smithsonian to town meant partnering with community groups that had prepared compelling applications for wanting this important cultural resource on their main street. “Barn Again!” drew tourists, resulted in local philanthropy, and started many programs in the libraries, schools, and little historical museums that became self-sustaining points of pride for the participating communities.
This is just one example of what federal funding can do at the local level. Wisconsin Humanities has worked hard to spread a modest amount of money into as many communities as possible. And that money multiplies. In 2024, Wisconsin Humanities’ grants were matched 4-to-1 in communities, meaning that every federal dollar granted to libraries, small museums, local historical societies, veterans’ groups, cultural events, and community-led efforts garnered local support. Public humanities programs are just that — free programs, for the general public. They bring people together, help to create more trust, open new conversations, and lead to healthier communities.

Stanley Schrock
April Stone.
Love Wisconsin's latest story on April Stone, an Ojibwe black ash basketmaker from northern Wisconsin, could be its last if federal funding for Wisconsin Humanities goes away.
Last summer Wisconsin Humanities funded a program to build relationships between Scandinavian-American and Somali-American neighbors in Barron County (population 46,711). In this rural part of northwestern Wisconsin, Pioneer Village partnered with a Somali museum in Minnesota to offer an immersive field trip for students, a library meet-up of weavers from different cultures, and a sharing of Scandinavian traditions of the region with the traditions of newer Somali neighbors. High school kids laughed together as they tried new dances. Elders shared different textile traditions. And neighbors learned each others’ names.
One of Wisconsin Humanities’ most beloved programs is Love Wisconsin, a platform for sharing authentic Wisconsin stories with more than 100,000 followers on social media (some of the stories have run in Isthmus). For 10 years, Love Wisconsin has published the stories of people like April Stone, an Ojibwe black ash basketmaker from northern Wisconsin. Stone shares her love for the place she calls home and how the natural materials she uses teach her to be flexible in changing times. Love Wisconsin has drawn attention from UW researchers, who found the comments and engagement generated reflected a positive digital community where neighbors got to know one another through real sharing. The research proved that Love Wisconsin creates a more connected state.
After receiving the sudden and unprecedented notification on April 3, Wisconsin Humanities had to tell groups statewide that their grants had been canceled. The grant program that had provided crucial support throughout the state for 53 years, and through the pandemic, vanished overnight. And if some stop-gap measure is not found to keep the only organization in the state designated to receive and distribute NEH funds afloat, the portal through which those federal funds flow to Wisconsin will close. Without Wisconsin Humanities and the promised federal dollars, our underfunded arts and cultural landscape will become more barren.
I wonder why pursuits driven by our deep human instinct to value our histories, imagine our futures, and connect creatively with people and ideas are suddenly considered luxuries? Nonprofits may come and go, but this seems to be part of something much larger and more problematic: the deliberate and dangerous attempt to control the stories, ideas, and imagination of the American people. We are once again in a time of fear, a time when things are moving quickly and feel out of control. Like when the founding legislation was written, we are in need of “a better understanding of the past, a better analysis of the present, and a better view of the future.”
For 60 years, Congress has agreed that “the arts and humanities” belong to all of us. Voters and their representatives in government have stood up for the missions of each independent state agency to offer meaningful opportunities in the arts and humanities from coast to coast. The end of NEH funding to the states will mean the end of that mission in Wisconsin.
Jessica Becker is the director of communications for Wisconsin Humanities. Established in 1972 as an independent affiliate of the National Endowment for the Humanities, Wisconsin Humanities is a nonprofit, nonpartisan organization governed by a volunteer board of directors who come from across the state.