The Show Must Go On: Fundraising Ideas for Community Theatres Facing NEA Cuts
(Photo: Town Players of New Canaan)
by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder
The recent NEA grant cancellations are hitting community theatres hard. Let’s not pretend otherwise. For so many of these organizations, that funding wasn’t extra—it was survival. It kept the lights on, costumes clean, and kids in summer drama camps. And now? It’s gone. Without warning. Without explanation.
I know a lot of theatre leaders are wondering how to move forward—and I also know that the typical advice of “just raise more money” isn’t helpful in this moment. Not when the economy is what it is. Not when families are choosing between groceries and gas. Not when your own volunteers are tapped out and exhausted.
So let’s talk realistically. Let’s talk about how to ask for help in a way that doesn’t always involve asking for dollars. Let’s talk about what you can do.
First—Yes, You Can Still Raise Funds. Just… Strategically.
Make it personal.
Create donor shout-outs as part of the curtain speech or on the program cover. Let people sponsor costumes or lines of dialogue. “This intermission brought to you by Carl and Becky in Row F.” If you’re going to ask, make it fun.
Host a quick, scrappy event.
A cabaret night. A Broadway karaoke battle. A staged reading of something ridiculous (Showgirls: The Play, anyone?). These don’t need full tech or perfect marketing—they just need heart. People will show up to support something that feels like it’s helping save their theatre.
Start small with sponsorships.
You don’t need Target to write a check. Start with the hardware store, the real estate agent who used to do tech crew in high school, the local bakery whose kid is in your youth cast. And yes, go after the industries that are still thriving in 2025. Healthcare, renewable energy, financial services, and—of course—tech companies are all doing well this year. Many of them want to support community causes. Make it easy and clear how they can help you stand out.
Don’t limit your ask to just your own town.
Your audience may be local, but your supporters don’t have to be. Alumni who’ve moved away. College students who came home to direct a summer musical. Theatre lovers in other cities who believe in keeping the arts alive anywhere. Think bigger than your zip code.
Second—Get Help Without Asking for Money
Ask for in-kind donations.
Do you really need cash for a new fog machine, or could someone loan you theirs? Do you need money to print programs, or could a local print shop donate 500 copies? Get specific and get bold. You’d be amazed what people will say yes to when they know exactly what you need.
Launch a backstage supply drive.
Instead of asking people to Venmo you $10, ask them to drop off paint, screws, or sewing supplies. Put together an Amazon or Target wish list. Some people can’t write a check—but they’ll gladly buy a gallon of black paint or a box of batteries.
Tap into skills, not just wallets.
Need a new poster? A better grant application? A cleaned-up website? Ask for help. People with real skills—graphic designers, marketers, photographers—want to do something meaningful. They just haven’t been asked.
Barter like you’re on Broadway in 1932.
Trade comp tickets for piano lessons, headshots, or cupcakes for concessions. Theatre people know how to hustle. Use it.
Amplify awareness.
Sometimes the best thing someone can do isn’t donate—it’s share. Ask people to post about your campaign, tag friends, or hang up flyers. A retweet from the right person can reach someone ready to give.
Last Thing—Give Yourself Some Grace
You are doing the work. You are making theatre with less support, fewer resources, and more roadblocks than ever before. And you’re still showing up. That deserves to be seen and celebrated.
This moment is hard. But I believe in community theatre. I believe in mismatched platforms and rented lights and costume racks built out of old plumbing parts. I believe in audiences that cry at the same show they laughed through an hour earlier. And I believe in the people—you—who keep making it all happen.
Break legs. And when you're tired? Ask for help. You deserve it.