A youth commissioner raised his hand, slowly breaking the busy hustle of voices. The room settled, so he spoke.
“I like our bylaws, but instead of ‘he/she’ can we use ‘they’?” He continued, “It’s more gender-inclusive, so it would represent people who don’t identify as male or female.”
The table paused for a second. Maybe to question why this hasn’t been mentioned before, or possibly to reflect on how this simple change could mark a shift toward inclusivity not just for youth, but for all future commissioners.
“You know, that’s a great idea,” a commissioner replied.
That moment marked the beginning of the San Diego County Arts and Culture Commission, the county’s first arts commission. Although the county established an arts agency in the 1980s, it was dissolved in 1993 due to a lack of prioritization. For decades, advocates pushed to have an arts-focused body until their persistence paid off in 2022, when the commission was finally created.
And not only did this change mark the start of more arts . It also introduced an initiative unmatched by any of the other seven arts boards in San Diego: three youth commissioner seats with full voting power.
Youth commissioners on arts boards aren’t new; the city of Chula Vista allows youth applications, although they would serve as non-voting , and one commissioner on Oceanside’s arts board is reserved for a student from MiraCosta College. But this initiative marked a shift — not only were youth given space to speak, but the power to make significant changes in the arts community.
This move recognized that youth leaders (16-24 years old) must have designated spaces for their voices to be heard. By also giving them voting power, the county affirmed that all commissioners, regardless of their age, bring valuable knowledge and lived experiences to the table. It’s a model that demonstrates what equity can look like.
I know the impact of this initiative firsthand. As a former youth commissioner, I experienced what it meant to be respected for my insight as a young artist and arts . I had the opportunity to vote on policies, create onboarding materials for future commissioners and funding for the county’s community grant program, which has directly impacted my peers. Other youth commissioners have served on subcommittees to shape our strategic plan and have acted as liaisons between artists and the commission for public art projects.
If these examples aren’t enough, here are other reasons why youth investment is necessary for our collective wellbeing.
First, our present, not just our future, lies in the hands of youth. And I make this distinction because we are tired of being labeled as “incomplete citizens” who must be “invested” in before we can lead. Although adult guidance can us, this narrative is harmful because it delays meaningful experiences we are ready for now. We are already leading efforts in our communities, and we are already creating new frameworks to serve the public. So why not create official places for us?
Second, youth are community , voters and stakeholders, who are affected by the decisions of our boards and councils. Our perspectives add essential depth to conversations about community programs and policies, and when there are spaces for intergenerational collaboration, initiatives are guaranteed to become more holistic and effective.
Third, at a time when diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives across the country are being threatened, it has become more important than ever to efforts that create pathways for underserved community to lead. ing initiatives like these is an act of resistance against the exclusionary practices that are becoming increasingly more common in politics. By ing one underserved community, we can build the infrastructure to others.
While these seats are a promising start, we need all local arts agencies to step up and follow suit. I also urge anyone who has also witnessed the impact of youth leadership to advocate for similar seats in your local arts councils.A peer of mine once said, “when you’re not at the table, you’re on the menu.” And frankly, too many of us are barred from even entering the restaurant.
Shido is an artist, arts advocate and arts who lives in North Park.
