When leaders at local arts nonprofits count their blessings, they never leave out SCFD.

The Scientific & Cultural Facilities District has doled out more than $80 million to 300-plus nonprofits in the metro area for each of the last two years, providing vital funding to museums, theaters, dance studios, festivals and arts-education organizations that directly serve millions along the Front Range.

“Denver has an extraordinary commitment to arts and culture with that (model), and the investments of SCFD are core to our survival,” said Meghan McNamara, executive director of Levitt Pavilion Denver, which offers 50 free, high-quality concerts each summer. “The impact goes beyond what’s on our stage, because there’s a great opportunity at this moment to tap into mental health support, workforce development and community outreach.”

That’s a common kudo for SCFD, since no other metro area can boast of a similar tax-for-arts program. The one-penny-for-every-$10 in sales-and-use tax collected for SCFD adds up to survival for Front Range culture and arts — itself now receding at the federal level in the last few weeks.

Promoting a civilized society is more important than ever, said Deborah Jordy, SCFD’s executive director for the last decade. This month, Jordy updated scfd.org to include a flat-footed reminder that SCFD does not receive federal funding, and is therefore not subject to the whims of budget cuts, threats, or heavy-handed directives on who and what it can fund.

Diversity, equity and inclusion is still very much central to its mission, she said. But Jordy will step down this summer after leading SCFD through arguably the biggest crises since its 1989 inception, and winning praise from nonprofits ranging from Cleo Parker Robinson Dance to History Colorado.

Benefits are immediate

SCFD is the only cultural tax district in the United States that includes more than one county. But there’s never been any guarantee that it would survive its three-plus decades in Colorado, let alone thrive, as it has over the last five years.

SCFD’s benefits are immediate; it sponsors free days at marquee attractions such as Denver Botanic Gardens and Denver Art Museum, which are always packed as a result, and cultural events across the region. But it also stabilizes organizations in the midst of growth.

“I think we’re a little behind some of our peers in the seven-county metro area, but we’re getting there,” said Hassan Najjar, former executive director of Golden’s Foothills Art Center, just after he reopened the historic Astor House after a $4.1 million renovation last summer.

“But we have a mix of funding,” he said. “We get a little chunk from SCFD, but we also have our foundations, private donations and a pretty good mix of earned revenue (from classes and events). It’s a really good ratio that helps protect us from things like pandemic shutdowns.”

Najjar has since left for Delaware’s Biggs Museum of American Art, but his time in Colorado showed him the central role of SCFD in the arts scene.

And yet, SCFD could have tanked in recent years, had it taken a revenue plunge during the COVID-19 pandemic — as most arts nonprofits and businesses did after closing to the public for up to two years.

A voter-authorized fund that comes up for renewal every few years — most recently in 2016, and next on the ballot in 2028 — SCFD remains a lifeline for artists and creatives fighting for money and attention. Since 2020, tax receipts from the seven-county metro area served by SCFD — including Adams, Arapahoe, Boulder, Broomfield, Denver, Douglas and Jefferson counties (with the exception of Castle Rock and Larkspur in Douglas County) — have grown year-over-year due to robust, if surprising, revenue from increased spending.

“There was pent-up demand, and a lot of it was shopping,” Jordy said. “It was redoing your kitchen, and your bathroom. It was creating a home office and buying new furniture, and keeping kids happy at home with arts and science projects,” she said. “Trying to create a little joy in our homes trickled down to people spending money on things.”

Doing a lot with a little

Given its scope and mission, SCFD has accomplished a lot with a $1.5 million annual budget and a full-time staff of seven, board members said.

“It is difficult to overstate the impact that Deborah has had on arts and culture in our region and beyond,” said Denver City Councilwoman Jamie Torres, vice chair of the SCFD’s board of directors, in a statement. “While her daily leadership presence will be hard to replace, we look forward to keeping her on board to provide the advice and counsel that only she can.” (Jordy will assume an advisory role after stepping down this summer.)

SCFD’s first distribution totaled just $14 million. As recently as 2016, boosters and legislators lobbied for its reauthorization, and Torres noted it deals not with “the partisan passion of the presidential race, the economic effects of minimum wage, or the tendentious traits of universal health care or right to die. It’s only about culture!”

SCFD’s biggest member organizations, also known as Tier 1 recipients, get the lion’s share of funding — or about $50.3 million last year, representing 64% of the total. It makes sense, since they also draw the most visitors and revenue. The Denver Zoo Conservation Alliance and Denver Museum of Nature & Science, for example, netted more than $12 million each, according to SCFD filings.

Funds pointedly cannot be used for construction projects, endowments, debt-reduction or redistribution to smaller organizations. Rather, they’re meant to keep both costs and ticket prices low — or free, as the case may be — by bolstering programing and supporting education and diversity programs at schools and on stages.

Jordy’s job for the last few years hasn’t just been about collecting and distributing money. It’s involved constant efforts to educate people on SCFD’s importance.

The next executive director, who’s not yet been chosen, will have to tackle all of that — as well as reauthorizing the special tax district when it comes up for renewal three years from now.

“I’m kind of like the SCFD police,” Jordy said with a laugh. “There are people who will have a say in funding in the future who are just moving to Denver now and have no idea what SCFD is. Our job is to change that, and to encourage (nonprofits) to help their patrons understand our importance. I kindly call them up and say, ‘Can you please make sure you mention us in your program or speech? It’s not for us, it’s for you and the community to know your own value.’ “

Challenges ahead

The Front Range’s population growth has also lately been stilted, with more people leaving, say, Boulder County than moving in, and deaths are expected to exceed birth rates statewide by 2050. Housing is unaffordable for many, and new construction can be seen as an obstacle by existing residents in cities such as Littleton, creating disagreements about growth.

All of that directly affects SCFD’s receipts.

“Colorado’s population, which averaged annual gains of around 76,000 a year in the last decade, has grown less than half as fast this decade,” The Denver Post reported in November. “Demographically speaking, the state looks like it has peaked, and what is ahead will be much different than what is behind.”

Jordy’s confident the new SCFD director will be able to confront the numerous challenges, especially as she moves into a senior advisory role on June 30. Her successor will also need to be “an exceptional listener,” she said.

A longtime artist, curator and former director of the Colorado Business Committee for the Arts, Arvada Center for the Arts and Humanities and others, Jordy has cemented a pace, tone and team at SCFD that will outlast her tenure. For that, she’s roundly beloved in the metro area.

“If you are working in the arts and culture arena in the Denver metro area, you know Deborah, have been mentored by Deborah or directly benefit from work Deborah has done,” said Jacki Cooper Melmed, chair of the SCFD board of directors, in a statement. “Her stewardship of the SCFD is just one more example of the impact she has had on arts and culture for nearly 50 years.”

“I’ve tried very hard to be available, even giving out my cellphone number to anyone who wanted it,” she said. “I want people to understand and trust what we do. I want to simplify the application process and timing. I want people to know we can’t go to foundations or individuals to ask for money, because we’re guided by law.

“I also want everyone to know I’m there for them, because the way I did this job was about trust,” she added. “We need to build and maintain that with the public, because that’s how we survive. We’re public servants, and should never forget that.”