Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/1546062
10 SAG-AFTR A | Summer 2026 | sagaftra.org A Letter From the Executive Vice President L I N D A P O W E L L Dear Member, W hen I was in college, a "working actress" visited the theater department and sat on a stool to talk to us about "the business." She gave the advice every actor I know was given at some point: If you think you can be happy doing anything else — do it. Many of you reading this didn't listen. Neither did I. I am now a working actor myself. No one's version of this looks the same. My version had a theater company created with friends that kept me artistically fulfilled for a decade but paid nothing while commercials, restaurants and a dayplayer gig here or there filled the gaps. It eventually had a steady office job and a flexible boss with a soft spot for artists. And it had a leap of faith moment when I left that steady job hoping to thrive without a safety net. Some years were harder than others. About a decade in, I stumbled into union service, not quite knowing what I was getting into. I was asked to sit on a W&W committee and said "yes," not knowing what W&W meant (wages and working conditions). Mostly I sat silent listening and learning and waking up to the fact that the contract that guaranteed I would get paid, that guaranteed my safety and guaranteed that my love for the work would not be exploited was created by members like me in a room doing their best to protect us all. I was blown away. Since then, I've found myself alongside members in many similar rooms working to preserve the ability of an actor not only to make a living, but to make a life. It's what our legacy unions' founders did when they organized against the studio system. It's what members did at merger when they took on the hard work of bringing those legacy unions together. It's what our National Board did when COVID hit and we cleared a path back to work. And it's what we all did in 2023, when we took to the streets for a fair contract. Walking the picket line with my fellow members three very short years ago reminded me of the feeling I'd had — and somewhat lost track of — in that first room more than a decade before. That feeling of community. We are in this together. There is enormous power in conversation, collaboration and collective action. That power paid off again in our most recent TV/Theatrical Contracts. The leverage we had — from the producers' desire for an extra year and from the resolve we'd shown in 2023 — enabled major gains. But while a contract protects work, it does not create it. We are all used to hustling for the next job, for that good role, used to reaching for the brass ring that could lead to security. As a collective, we protect the value of that ring while we protect the rights, safety and income of members at every level. I know that one of the biggest challenges in this moment is how far out of reach that ring has begun to feel. Production has contracted; it's in every headline. The industry is in flux, and it's increasingly clear that no one, including our traditional employers, knows what the new normal will be. There are fewer jobs and members are struggling. At this moment it's more important than ever that we lean into each other. The union is making moves in this fragile moment — organizing new work, lobbying for tax incentives and AI guardrails, tightening our belt and strategizing for ways to help members adapt and thrive in this attention economy. The restructuring that's happening isn't unique to our industry. Or our country. But we have each other and the union we're entrusted with to navigate our way to what's next. Together. Onward, Linda Powell "There is enormous power in conversation, collaboration and collective action."