Leadership That Listens: The People Behind the AFM & SAG-AFTRA Fund
It’s easy to forget the people behind the curtain. The stage lights hit the artists. The audience hears the music. But there’s always a system—usually a quiet one—that makes sure those who contribute behind the scenes aren’t forgotten. In the case of the AFM & SAG-AFTRA Intellectual Property Rights Distribution Fund, or just “The Fund,” as it’s often called, that quiet system has names and faces. Stefanie Taub and Sidney Kibodeaux White are two of them.
They don’t sing on the records or play in the orchestra pit. But they are responsible for making sure that the session musicians and background vocalists—the folks who often don’t get much recognition—are paid what they’re owed. It’s work that doesn’t usually make headlines. It doesn’t need to. The goal isn’t attention—it’s fairness.
Stefanie Taub serves as the Chief Executive Officer. Sidney Kibodeaux White is the Chief Operating Officer. These are titles that sound formal, almost distant. But the work behind them is very much grounded in the real lives of musicians and performers. Together, they lead an organization that was originally started by two major performer unions—the American Federation of Musicians (AFM) and the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (AFTRA). Those two have since merged into SAG-AFTRA, but the Fund operates independently now. It stands on its own, which is important. That independence means it can serve not just union members, but anyone who qualifies for royalty payments based on their work.
And what is that work, exactly? It’s the music you hear on satellite radio. It’s background vocals on a streaming playlist. It’s even songs and pieces used in film or TV that you might not notice consciously but that absolutely shape the mood of a scene. All of those sounds are built by people, many of whom never get featured credit. The Fund was created to correct that gap—to make sure those performers are paid.
But how does that actually happen? Well, it’s complicated. Royalties are collected under U.S. copyright law and from international groups that handle what are called “neighboring rights”— basically, the idea that performers should get paid even if the music is used outside the United States. The Fund tracks all these royalties and connects them to the right people. Not everyone even knows they’re owed something. That’s part of why the Fund keeps a searchable database on its website. If a performer worked on a recording that qualifies, they can look it up and claim their royalties—even if they’re not in any union.
Running that kind of system takes more than software. It takes leadership that understands both the music world and the world of legal rights. That’s where Taub and White come in. Their job is to guide the Fund in a way that stays true to its mission: to treat non-featured performers with respect and to make sure their work is valued—not just in words, but in real, tangible payments. Of course, it’s not perfect. No system is. Payments depend on titles being properly listed, on laws being followed, and on international cooperation. It’s not as glamorous as being on stage. But maybe that’s the point. The work they do is about dignity, not drama.
You might wonder, why does this matter now? In a world where streaming dominates and artists often struggle to make money from plays and views, this kind of work matters more than ever. As music becomes more digital, as media gets more global, the challenge of making sure people are fairly paid grows harder. Without someone keeping track, it’s easy for people to fall through the cracks.
That’s why this Fund, and the leadership behind it, plays such a specific and necessary role. It’s not about the loudest voice in the room—it’s about the voices that usually don’t get heard at all. And in that quiet work, in those decisions made far from the spotlight, the value of leadership like Taub’s and White’s becomes clear. They’re not just managers—they’re stewards of fairness in an industry where it’s easy to be overlooked.
The AFM & SAG-AFTRA Fund might not be a household name. Neither, probably, are its leaders. But for the thousands of performers who’ve received checks they didn’t even know were coming, who’ve felt a bit more seen in a business that often forgets, their work speaks louder than any song on the radio.