On November 13, following close to three hours of public comment by more than 60 individual speakers, each allotted up to three minutes to speak – the vast majority of whom vigorously supported the drama students and questioned the process by which decisions were being made in the Sherman school system – and more than two hours of closed session, the board of the Sherman TX Independent School District voted unanimously that the original script and cast of the musical Oklahoma! should be allowed to proceed at the high school.

This follows a week and half in which the school’s administration initially informed parents and then students that no student would be allowed to perform any role where a character’s gender that did not align with the gender the cast member were assigned at birth. While this affected as many as 20 students according to statements at the meeting, the decision was widely interpreted at being focused specifically at Max Hightower, a trans male student who had had been cast as the secondary character of Ali Hakim, a role from which he was now being removed.

That decision, announced on Friday November 4, was followed on Monday, November 7 with a statement that the school was now reviewing the text of Oklahoma!, one of the most popular musicals in US high schools for more than a half-century, for material which was inappropriate for high school performance.

On November 11, late on a Friday afternoon, the school announced that there was an alternate Oklahoma! script that would be performed, one which would be acceptable for all ages. That was in fact a cut-down one-hour version of the musical which was intended for pre-high school performances and audiences with short attention spans. A statement to this website from Concord Theatricals , which licenses Oklahoma! for performance, confirmed that the district had applied for the rights to the alternate version, but did not say that such rights had been granted.

Coming after more than five hours of meeting time that went well past 10 pm, the following resolution was adopted by the school board by unanimous decision: “As the board has not adopted a board policy regarding the casting of students in theater productions or performances, I move that the board direct the superintendent to reinstate the original script of the musical Oklahoma at Sherman High School and cast that was assigned as of November 2, 2023.”

School board president Brand Morgan then went on to read a statement on behalf of the school board as follows, “We want to apologize to our students, parents or community regarding the circumstances that they’ve had to go through to this date. We understand that our decision does not erase the impact this had on our community. But we hope that we will enforce to everyone, particularly our students, we do embrace all of our board goals to including addressing the diverse needs of our students and empowering them for success in diverse and a complex world. The board is committed to uphold its ethical duties to including being continuously guided by what is best for all students in our district.”

The more than five dozen speakers at the meeting ranged in age from high schoolers to grandparents, and included speakers who identified themselves as lifelong Sherman residents, residents who had moved away and returned later in life, students matriculated at Austin College in Sherman, parents and siblings of current students and more. Several speakers identified themselves as gay, queer and trans.

The Austin College students each spoke to their personal experiences, but all shared and reiterated the same concluding statement when it came their turn: “I demand that the school board upholds its self-reported goals V & VI by supporting LGBTQ students. I demand the school board allow Sherman High School to perform ‘Oklahoma!’ and all future shows in its original form with students cast in roles they earn. I demand the board maintains SISD theatre department as a welcoming and inclusive space.”

A number of speakers cited statistics about rates of suicidal ideation and suicide among gay and trans young people and charged the school administration and board with ignoring such concerns. One speaker bluntly asked, regarding the school’s gender policies, “Are you telling me that instead of writing biographies in playbills you would rather be writing obituaries?”  

One Austin College student who spoke at the board meeting, identifying themselves as a trans male, stated that theatre is a safe space but that Sherman itself is not. They went on to say that by standing up at the meeting, “I am risking coming out to my entire homophobic family because this is a hill I will die on.”

This does not, however, mean that all discussion on the matter of future productions and casting is necessarily over. One school board member asked for additional conversation on the matters raised at the meeting, stating, “I would like to request a special called meeting Friday at noon of this week here at the central office boardroom to continue this discussion with the board and with legal counsel.” Board president Morgan said that such discussion would be scheduled within 72 hours.

No announcement has yet been made regarding the performance dates for Oklahoma!, originally scheduled for next month.

The Florida Association for Theatre Education invited me to be the keynote speaker at their annual conference, held in Orlando October 12-14, 2017. The text below represents an edited version of that address, which was written to be spoken, not read, so please forgive oratorical repetitions, some of which will have been minimized already. There were various ad libs during the course of the speech which, I’m afraid, have now escaped me.

*    *    *

At the risk of telling you things you know all too well, since it is you who do the teaching and I who spend my time opining on theatre, sometimes from in the midst of the fray and sometimes from the sidelines, especially when it comes to school theatre and theatre education. School theatre, whether academic or extracurricular, is of course the teaching of the practice of making theatre – learning and understanding a text, interpreting it through writing, direction, design and performance.

School theatre is a bonding experience for students, a place where those with a common interest can come together with like-minded peers. Theatre is a place where students who may not fit some arbitrarily perceived model of “typical” can find others who are like them at their cores, drawn together by a need to express themselves or support the expressions of others, rather than by throwing or hitting a ball into or over a net, or a wall, or a hoop. School theatre is teamwork without fractures and brain trauma. School theatre is a place where open displays of emotion are not only accepted but encouraged. School theatre is a place where students can become someone other than who they are on the way to becoming who they will be. School theatre is a place where students can play a role in making hundreds of people laugh, or cry, or applaud as one, in response to what they’ve done.

As I said, doing what you do, you know all of this and more. Believe me, even though you may not hear it often enough, there are many people who applaud and appreciate you for your role in all of this, as I do. Indeed – and I know all too well the countless challenges you face – at times I envy you, because what you do has so much meaning in the lives of your students. You are the teachers who are in a position not just to be liked and appreciated, but loved and remembered.

*    *    *

So why, if I perceive all of this achievement, do I say that school theatre can be more? I say it because of some of the work that I do, that I have chosen to do, or perhaps has chosen me, almost as if by accident.

As some of you may know, over the past half-dozen years, I have become a vocal advocate against the censorship of school theatre. By virtue of the jobs I’ve had – including running theatres and the American Theatre Wing – my voice is given some credibility. Once I was no longer constrained by those jobs, I found myself using that voice in new ways.

It began with a blog post about a show I know well, at a school near where I grew up, an arts magnet high school, with a majority population of students of color, which was in the process of canceling a production of August Wilson’s Joe Turner’s Come and Gone, over its use of the n-word. Because I have written at length about this incident, I will jump to the conclusion, which is that the show did go on, and it was presented without altering the words of one of America’s greatest playwrights. My voice was one among many; please do not think I am taking or deserve sole credit.

Since then, I have had occasion to advocate and even fight for any number of shows to be done in high schools and colleges, and for them to be performed just as they were written. The list includes – and in some cases there have been several instances of these shows, not just one-offs – Sweeney Todd, Spamalot, Legally Blonde, Rent, Almost Maine, The Laramie Project, Ragtime and more.

What I have seen over these years, as I have looked at school theatre and read about it, as I have parsed The Educational Theatre Association’s annual list of the most-produced shows, is an inclination to play it safe, to avoid potential conflict, to stick with the tried and true. This comes from school administrations, from school boards, from parents, from community groups, who think that school plays should just be good fun, that they should be appealing for ages eight to eighty.

I am all for fun. I love to be entertained. I understand why the list of the most produced musicals in high schools is now made up largely of titles drawn from popular family films and the biggest Broadway hits.

But I worry that these shows dominate school theatre not because they are the best shows or even the shows students are most interested in, but because they aren’t going to offend or even annoy anyone at all – and because they’re familiar titles that help sell tickets. As a result, while students unquestionably learn many things from being a part of school theatre and any show that’s chosen – rigor, structure, teamwork, and so on – they aren’t necessarily learning from the shows themselves. Yes, most family musicals have clear morals and lessons, but they are simple and surface. Students don’t have to look to find them and they certainly don’t have to struggle with them.

I favor that struggle.

*    *    *

Many of you may be aware of a recent study out of the University of Alabama which shows that students who see theatre learn from it in ways they don’t from watching a film, even a film of the same story. As the authors of the study wrote, “Theater is a window for students to a broader world. Exposure to that broader world may increase their understanding and acceptance of that broader world, which is why we see increases in Tolerance and Social Perspective Taking. Plays may be more effective than movies in helping students understand and accept that broader world because we react differently to human beings acting out a story in front of us than to representations of human beings on a screen. The in-person experience may create greater emotional connections.”

Now think about the fact that this study is simply about seeing theatre. It doesn’t begin to address the experience of making theatre.

It’s worth noting that, as I’ve spread this study around on social media, many people have responded by saying, “Well of course.” “We knew that.” “It’s obvious.” But that’s a response that’s only obvious to those who are already supporting theatre, who already believe in theatre, who already frequent theatres, who already teach theatre. However, that it was demonstrated in a controlled experiment is the kind of evidence-based proof we need about the value of theatre, about its ability to evoke empathy. Keep that study, and others like it that you may know of, very close and accessible. You never know when you might need them.

But just think: if that’s what’s happening in spectators, imagine what theatre is doing, imagine what theatre can do, for students who make theatre. Of course, you don’t have to imagine it, because you see it, you foster it.

As I proceed here, I would ask you to understand that even if the examples I give touch upon the kind of work you do, that I’m not here to criticize anyone’s choices. As I hope I’ve established, I place tremendous value in what you do. Some of you may already work from the mindset I advocate; others may not by choice or by the strictures of policy. All I am asking is that you think about whether you can expand the range of what you undertake. Can you make school theatre more?

*    *    *

The body of dramatic literature, and I include musicals in that, is pretty vast. Yet as the Educational Theatre Association’s own research, extensively studied by National Public Radio a couple of years ago has shown, when it comes to plays, the most produced plays in high schools – with the exception of Almost, Maine and more recently Peter and the Starcatcher – are mired in the work of the 1930s, 40s and 50s.

Why is that so? Is it because plays ceased being worthwhile some 60 years ago? No, that’s not the case. Yes, the language of plays may have become more expansive as taboos were broken, but that doesn’t mean every play contains language or subjects that might not be appropriate in a school setting.

Probably a more significant trend is that casts have become smaller, in order to become more producible commercially, and that doesn’t work well for those school programs with a lot of students vying for roles. Another is the fact that fewer plays are produced each year on Broadway, and so the titles are less familiar, the repertoire less known to the average person. That Almost, Maine broke out the way it has is extraordinary and singular, considering it never played Broadway and didn’t have any significant commercial success, not to mention that it was intended for four actors.

Interestingly, a play that is often produced – and often challenged – is The Laramie Project, and its appeal for many schools is something that it has in common with Almost, Maine. Just because it was written for a smallish cast playing multiple roles doesn’t mean it has to be. Almost, Maine’s four actors can become 20 or so, and Laramie Project can accommodate dozens. They are often produced because of the need for a large cast play, rather than content.

But of course Laramie Project talks of issues that have little in common with You Can’t Take It With You and Harvey, two regulars from the Educational Theatre Association list. LGBTQ rights, murder, justice, guilt, redemption – that’s what the real people portrayed in Laramie must cope with, and what the students who portray those people must understand. That may be “too much” in the eyes of some authorities, yet do students learn more from enacting the lives of people addressing a tragic hate crime or from the fairy tale story of a lonely ogre seeking acceptance? Both have lessons, but which runs deeper, which offers more?

Which prepares students for the larger world, for the world they live in, the world they will face? The vast majority of your students will not become artists, but they are all citizens of this country, of this world. Can the work you do with them be more than just about developing skills and empathy, but about preparing them to look at life both critically and compassionately? Indeed, can school theatre speak directly to their lives as they are now?

The shows I referenced are but two examples, and I’m not here to advocate for one and slam the other. They are just two shows that you’re all likely to know.

In research conducted by EdTA, the discussion of social issues discussed in theatre classrooms and productions between 1991 and 2012 has dropped precipitously. Here are some numbers: multiculturalism, down 10%. Drug and alcohol abuse, down 20%. Divorce and single parent families, down 20%. Teen suicide, down 20%. The topic of bullying, not even listed in 1991, is way up, yet the subject of teen suicide is down? How does that even make sense?

Not only can school theatre be more, school theatre has been more. There is more school theatre than ever, but it is retreating to safety, it is avoiding struggle.

*    *    *

In considering this issue, I believe there is an even more central question that often isn’t easily answered: who is school theatre for? In my work, I have developed my own hierarchy, and I apply it rigorously when considering situations that arise in school theatre, and how my own work may apply to it. But even if we do not see eye to eye on many things I’m discussing, I hope you may find this applicable no matter what your perspective may be.

First and foremost, I believe that school theatre is for the students who choose to do school theatre. That is the core constituency to be served, that is who must benefit most. This may seem obvious, but I have seen situations where this fact is forgotten, especially when programs face any type of crisis.

Secondly, I think school theatre is for the other students in the school. These are the peers of the students who participate, and they may be drawn in to the theatre, the auditorium, the converted cafeteria. They may well be affected by what they see, and indeed while they may not choose to participate in theatre subsequently, they may seek out other theatre in the months, the years, the decades to come.

Third, school theatre is for parents, so they can experience and appreciate what their children choose to participate in, and see their talents, whether its manning a spotlight or singing center stage.

Fourth, school theatre is for siblings and extended family, for much the same reasons as parents, but for reasons I’ll explain in a moment, they should not be lumped together.

Fifth and finally, school theatre is for the community at large, that is to say parents of non-participatory students and those in the community who have no direct connection to any current student or students at the school.

I imagine these five groups as a series of concentric circles, with the central circle being the students who participate in and study theatre at the center, then widening out to the other groups.

Why do I separate parents from the rest of families, and those without students in the program or at the school at the fringes?

First, because the choice of what is done in school theatre should not be constrained by the need to appeal to siblings younger than the students themselves. Yes, it’s a treat when younger siblings can see their brothers and sisters on stage, but that should not drive play choice. High school material should not be infantilized for the entertainment of middle school and elementary school students; middle school plays shouldn’t be comparably limited. To do so does a disservice to the core constituency, the students at the center.

That’s also why those without any direct stake in the drama program, or even the school, are at the farthest ring from the center – because those who have no stake shouldn’t drive the educational priorities of theatre. School theatre shouldn’t be looked at as a public relations tool with which to entertain the community at large, since doing so diminishes the focus on the students themselves.

I have been challenged on this by people who say that all theatres have to keep audiences in mind when planning their programming, so kids should learn about that now. To them I say, yes, you’re right about the professional world, but this isn’t professional theatre, this is school theatre. And I refer back to my concentric circles and point to who is at the center, who is most important, and it’s the students studying and making theatre.

*    *    *

I appreciate that there are many school theatre programs that are required to be self-sustaining financially. That gets my blood boiling, because sports programs are rarely saddled with the same requirement. But I must accept a certain reality. To that I say that excellent work with students will, over time, develop respect for what is undertaken, regardless of whether schools are producing familiar, safe titles or not.

I imagine that many of you have read Drama High by Michael Sokolove, or know of the program that Lou Volpe built in Levittown PA and which Tracey Gatte carries on today. Did you know that beginning this spring, that book will be a NBC TV series, called Rise? That’s right – what music teachers got with Glee, you will now get, only better, because your story will be told by the producer and writer who created the series Friday Night Lights.

If ever there was a moment for school theatre to step up to the next level, to be more, this is it. If Rise turns into a popular hit, if it runs, you will have the greatest tool imaginable to build the case for and the strength of your work, your programs, your students. Because you won’t be doing it alone. You’ll have a TV network behind you, 22 episodes a year.

*    *    *

Whenever I get involved in an issue regarding school theatre, about a challenge to school theatre, I am usually told early on, “You have to understand, this is a very conservative community.” Never once have I been told, “Oh, this is an incredibly liberal community.” It just doesn’t happen. Those words were said to me sotto voce about the prevailing sense of Florida and Florida education when I was invited to speak with you today. As you can see, I was undeterred.

I hope you’ll notice that nothing I’ve said today is explicitly political, in terms of liberal or conservative, red state or blue state, because when it comes to allowing students to learn, to creating opportunities for students to learn, I believe there must only be knowledge. When it comes to theatre, there must always be discovery.

Yes, there are those who will take my having spoken about The Laramie Project as political, because it portrays the aftermath of the killing of a gay youth 19 years old this week. But that murder is a crime is not a political position, it’s a commonly held moral position. That the play explores a wide range of community response to that crime is not political, it is human and humane. But let me leave Laramie be, and mention some shows you may want to think about, if you haven’t already done them, even in contrast with some shows you likely have done.

I am here in the south and I suspect that many of you have done, or considered, To Kill A Mockingbird. I for one hope schools will begin to look beyond that story, beloved as it is, because it is the story of a white man who must save a black man, and how his white household is affected by that decision. It is a white savior narrative. There are few roles of any size for black actors, let alone Latinx actors, or Asian actors, and race is important to the telling of the story. If you choose to do the show, then I urge you to think about how you cast it, not turning a blind eye to race, but with consciousness about how interracial casting can affect that story.

Alternately, if you are in a school with a significant black population, think about doing one of August Wilson’s plays, because they will open up not only your stages, but conversations you couldn’t have imagined. Think about the plays of Quiara Alegría Hudes, if you have Latinx students. Think about the plays of Lynn Nottage, of David Henry Hwang; of musicals by Jeanine Tesori that aren’t just Thoroughly Modern Millie and Shrek. Whatever you do, don’t make the assumption that your production must look like the original production, don’t assume that unless a cast of characters says that a character is black, Asian, Latinx, Middle Eastern, Native American that it must be played by a white student. You can make school theatre more, you can make shows more, at times, by going beyond what has been before.

I know that between multiple classes and shrinking resources it can be difficult, but I know that drama teachers, like their students, when push comes to shove, always do more, step up and achieve more. So I say once again that I am not here to make the assumption that some of you aren’t already doing this, but to be your cheerleader, in the same way that I know you inspire your students to more. If you need help, if you meet challenges, know that I’m available to help you, and I know many, many more people working professionally who will do so as well.

That’s why when Ragtime was going to be edited by school administrators without approval in Cherry Hill New Jersey earlier this year, which would have lost them the rights to the show entirely, Brian Stokes Mitchell not only spoke up for the show, he went and met with students, teachers and the local NAACP in Cherry Hill to make sure the show went on. In fact, the debate over Ragtime in Cherry Hill achieved something all too rare – that production of Ragtime became required viewing for every student in the school, all 2400 of them. That meant that theatre was more, because it prompted conversations that didn’t stop at the auditorium doors, but permeated English classes and history classes in the weeks and days surrounding that production. Sadly, it took a crisis for that to happen. Wouldn’t it be something if school theatre was something every student always had to see? After all, as I alluded to earlier, we must create not only the artists of tomorrow, but the audiences as well.

*    *    *

Because I am an endless rewriter, and was working on this as late as this morning, I am going to take what seems like a sudden turn in topic before I close.

As I have read and heard this week, as many of us have, about the despicable and vile behavior of Harvey Weinstein, it has been tempting to blame it only on the wonton ways of Hollywood. But his behavior is not unique to Hollywood, it is sickeningly suffused through every part of American life where men hold power over women, where people hold power over one another. Some of you may have had your own comparable experiences, and that is profoundly troubling and infuriating.

Theatre is not immune to this: just over a year ago a small theatre company in Chicago, Profiles Theatre, shut down suddenly when its own culture of sexual harassment and abuse – in the guise of art – was brought to light after decades. Audiences learned that what seemed to be intense emotional performances were instead at times abuse being played out for them – it had gone beyond acting, beyond safety, into horrifying reality and been offered to them as if it were artifice.

Last week, The New York Times finally got people speaking on the record about Harvey Weinstein, just as when the Chicago Reader got people speaking on the record about Profiles Theatre. More stories will emerge, sad to say – but maybe, just maybe, this will serve to stem the generational tide of abuses of power to obtain sexual gratification, to obtain control.

Why do I bring this up in the context of school theatre? First, because we must together make clear that such behavior is unacceptable, it isn’t art and that it must be called out and stopped. But also speak of it because theatre can teach students that they have voices and can use them, that they should not be afraid to stand in the spotlight and say what must be said, or to shine a harsh light on transgressions, on injustices that must be stopped. If they have the chance to tell stories that engage with what is difficult in the world, indeed with what may be wrong in the world, alongside telling stories that bring joy and entertainment into the world, then their work in theatre makes them better actors, writers, directors, designers and technicians. But it also makes them better people, and better citizens, with knowledge, gifts and understanding that will be of value to them whatever they may be in life.

Theatre can be more because theatre is not an end unto itself. It is a microcosm of life, and there are so many lives to be understood and stories to be told. It should never be too soon to start telling them in the incredible diversity and variety, whether spoken, sung, danced or all three together. Thank you for giving of yourselves to help your students tell stories not just in your classrooms and on your school’s stages, but for the rest of their lives.

Nora Brigid Monahan in “Diva: Live From Hell” (Photo courtesy of DDPR)

I cannot claim that I was completely surprised. By the same token, I didn’t know exactly what to expect.

A press release first made me aware of Diva: Live From Hell, and I lingered on it longer than most I receive. The plot synopsis, of a high school drama kid doomed to Hell for his thespian transgressions while alive, ticked off some of the boxes that usually interest me, school theatre in particular. But thinking about the already heavy theatergoing schedule I keep in late March and April, I decided I’d better give it a pass. So many shows, so little time.

That was that, until a Facebook message popped up from Morgan Jenness, the highly regarded dramaturg, agent, teacher,  literary manager, activist, advisor, artist advocate and so much more. Was I planning to see Diva: Live From Hell, she wondered, because she thought I should see it. I replied, explaining that I’d thought about it, but decided to forego it. She wrote back to say I really should see it, and when Morgan gets emphatic like that, I know I’d be foolish not to take heed. I said that if she felt so strongly, I’d go. So while I began to ponder exactly what the deal was, I made a mental note to look to see when it was playing, having already deleted the press release.

When I awoke Monday morning to a Facebook wall post from Daniel Goldstein, who was directing the show, saying that I “may or may not be name-checked” in Diva: Live From Hell, I understood why Morgan was being so insistent. After all, Daniel couldn’t be posting versions of that message on the pages of all of his Facebook friends as a marketing ruse to sell tickets to the show, could he?

That’s how I found myself at Theatre for the New City on Monday night, with less than eight hours planning, having discovered that given my aforementioned busy schedule and the limited run of Diva, the only possible time I could attend was that same day. Normally, my theatergoing is planned out weeks in advance. Moviegoing is more spur of the moment for me.

So I might get some manner of shout out during the show, but of course I didn’t know when, and I didn’t know what it would be. It’s actually a terrible way to watch a show, waiting for a very specific yet indeterminate moment, but I tried to just relax and enjoy the proceedings. I settled in for the saga of Desmond Channing, played by Nora Brigid Monahan, who had also devised the show and written the book (music and lyrics are by Alexander Sage Oyen). Damned to recount his sordid tale of high school theatre rivalry, Desmond’s eternal cabaret is playing a lounge in the fiery pit; Roy Cohn, he tells us, is playing the big room.

(At this point I should give a lackadaisical spoiler alert, for those who find the prospect of hearing my name in a theatre production utterly thrilling. I imagine that if such a community exists, it’s extremely small, and perhaps might want to seek professional help.)

It wasn’t very far into the show, as Desmond relived his triumphant high school theatre career, that my name came up.

“I mean, I’m sure we all remember last year’s stunning production of “Flower Drum Song.” And not because of the controversy surrounding the casting! I’m still very hurt by Howard Sherman’s letter-writing campaign vilifying me for my portrayal of Wang Chi-Yang.”

OK, there it was. A good-natured ribbing of my advocacy regarding authenticity in racial casting and against practices such as yellowface. The audience laughed, but so far as I could tell, it was with the punchline, not at the mere mention of my name. I settled in to watch the rest of the show.

So imagine my surprise when only a bit later, I heard Desmond say the following:

“Auditions for the Fall Musicale are tomorrow. You just have to sing a Gilbert and Sullivan song. Wait a minute! What should I sing? Maybe “He is an Englishman.” No, everyone’ll do that… Or maybe something from “The Mikado”… No, can’t. Damn that Howard Sherman.”

Wow, I’m a recurring joke, albeit a highly esoteric one. But Monahan wasn’t quite done with me, as I discovered later in the show with the following interjection:

DALLAS: Alright, don’t make a big show. You know you’re the only student I let in the faculty room. Don’t abuse the privilege. Nice Louis Armstrong, by the way. If we hadn’t gotten in so much trouble for “Flower Drum Song,” next year I could’ve cast you as Porgy.

DESMOND: (Under his breath, furious) Sherman…

Because I was engaged in the show itself, my thoughts about these mentions didn’t really come until the lights went out and the curtain call began.

First thought: well, I guess people are registering the kind of advocacy I’ve been doing if it rises to the level of lampooning in an Off-Off-Broadway showcase.

Nora Brigid Monahan in “Diva: Live From Hell”

Second thought: I would never, NEVER, lead a campaign against any high school student. At the high school level, I try to be supportive. I might have had a few words for a teacher so clueless as Mr. Dallas.

Third thought: Wow, I got name-checked alongside Kevin Kline, Tovah Feldshuh and Patti LuPone, among many others. Of course, Seth Rudetsky appeared as himself via recording, a more prominent inclusion in Monahan’s imagined world. (Under my breath, furious) Rudetsky!

As I exited the theatre, I encountered Morgan Jenness, grinning widely, eager to hear what I thought. I said I’d had a good time and was amused to be part of the show. “But, I confided to Morgan, “I don’t think anyone in that theatre had any idea that I’m a real person. I’m just a fictional nemesis invented by Sean along with the other characters.”

“Oh, Howard,” she replied, “People know who you are. And after all, it’s a pretty insider show.”

“Insiders enjoy LuPone and Kline jokes,” I countered. “Mentions of me are downright obscure. As far as this audience knows, I’m a fiction.”

And so, for the next week and half at least, I will have my own form of immortality, embedded in the pages of a theatrical script and spoken aloud for presumably unwitting audiences. This joins my other brushes with exceedingly minor fame, including my guest appearance as a Cupcake Wars judge and my three-sentence role on an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.

But I thank Nora Monahan for giving me this little gift of recognition, and perhaps someone will see Diva: Live From Hell and laugh spontaneously and knowingly at the mention of my name (if I haven’t already spoiled the moment for those most likely to do so with this essay). And while my next two weeks are completely committed, perhaps I’ll have the chance to encounter Desmond Channing once again, be it in this life, or the afterlife.

When a student-devised piece of theatre begins as The Politics of Dancing, an examination of relationships springing from Ibsen’s A Doll’s House, and is ultimately produced as This Title Has Been Censored, something is amiss. When a student production scheduled for multiple performances in a college theatre department’s mainstage season ends up as a single workshop performance with rudimentary tech given during a final exam period, something is strange. When an original work of theatre begins to address gender roles and is immediately downsized, something is troubling. When these actions were prompted because an inchoate project was judged by departmental leadership based solely on a few preliminary scenes reviewed  four months before the work was to be finished, something seems wrong.

But those are all aspects of what transpired over the past several months in the theatre department of Oklahoma State University. The Politics of Dancing, which had been announced as part of the school’s 2015-16 mainstage season in the Vivia Locke Theatre, which seats some 500 patrons, was to have been presented in February; the rest of the season included A.R. Gurney’s What I Did Last Summer, and The 25^th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. Instead of The Politics of Dancing, the school produced John Cariani’s Almost, Maine.

So what exactly happened to The Politics of Dancing? In October, Professor Jodi Jinks, who holds the school’s Mary Lou Lemon Endowed Professorship for Underrepresented Voices, shared a few short scenes from the work the students had begun to create with the head of the department, which both she and the students say weren’t necessarily representative of what the finished work would be like, given the evolving nature of any devised theatre.

“Professor Jinks allowed us as an ensemble to explore what we wanted. It kind of naturally flowed in that direction,” said student Jessica Smoot via e-mail. “Honestly I think it just came from the fact that you can’t properly explore romantic relationships without understanding gender, and since it is such a hot topic these days it became a much more fascinating subject to explore.”

Student Joshua Arbaugh said, also via e-mail, “The focus of the show never switched from ‘general relationships.’ Gender was only one subject that the show was going to touch on. There was never a time that we as a group decided that the show would be about gender. However, gender and gender roles play a big part in relationships so we devoted a healthy amount of time early in our devising process to explore the many facets of gender in our research and our work. We had no idea that this would displease anyone and did not believe that it was a divergence in our declared ‘focus’.”

Prof. Jinks says that she shared some very early drafts of Dancing on October 19 and two days later department chair Andrew Kimbrough met with the students involved in the production and, in Jinks’s words, “dropped the bomb, or gave the option.”

“We could change the direction we were heading in and create something for our [mainstage] audience, or the students could say what they wanted to say and move to the studio,” explained Jinks.

The audience, as described by students in their meeting with Kimbrough, was “over 50, white and Republican,” according to Jinks in an interview with the campus newspaper The O’Colly.  Kimbrough told The O’Colly, “I believed the students’ assessment of the audience was accurate.” From The O’Colly:

The theater department advertised the play as a production that “examines the mating rituals of our planet’s most advanced and complicated species,” according to a department brochure.

“I was seeing an evolution of work that was, one, not on the topic that was proposed, (and) two, that tended to be one-sided in its address of transgender issues,” Kimbrough said.

Kimbrough said he visited the class and requested that if the students continued with “The Politics of Dancing,” they keep in mind the type of audience they would be performing for.

“Even though they were moving in a new direction, they were never asked to abandon the topic but simply to proceed from the vantage of mid-October with our current audience in mind,” Kimbrough said. “And I believe when you’re running a business, this is the No. 1 rule. You must create work that has your audience in mind.”

After a weekend of consideration, according to Jinks, the students decided to move the production to the smaller studio. “Ultimately,” said Jinks, “they decided to perform the play they originally wanted to write.”

But that plan hit a snag when Jinks and the students were later informed that their production in the studio would have no production support, because the technical departments, in her description, “could not do two things that close together or at the same time,” with the substituted mainstage show cited as a conflict.

“They were offered the studio and thought they could do that,” said Jinks. “That was the option they were presented, and slowly, bit by bit, it was removed.”

Regarding Kimbrough’s position on the project, Arbaugh wrote, “The idea of him bullying our work until he was ‘comfortable’ with it was too great a cost. However, none of us would have chosen to lose departmental support and our spot in the season. We were all blindsided by the decision and I would say it’s because we gave the ‘wrong answer’.”

Arbaugh continued, saying, “The Politics of Dancing was supposed to be a true test of all our talents. We, as students of the theater, were to use everything we had learned in this in this endeavor. When it was cancelled, it was like a big door was slammed in all of our faces saying, ‘who you are is inappropriate and what you have to contribute has no value.’ So self-esteems suffered and even now there is anxiety in the department.”

So why did the show become This Title Has Been Censored?

“As a class,’ wrote Smoot, “we found that using the source materials we were initially assigned (A Doll’s House and the “Politics Of Dancing” song) were becoming more of a hindrance to our creativity, so we scrapped them from the show. This, along with the struggles we had faced through the process, made the show look completely different from what it was initially intended to be – but that can be expected with devised theatre! We wanted to rename the show in a way that acknowledged the struggles in the process. The final product still discussed gender, but in a much more personal way that drew from many of our personal experiences and life moments interspersed with current events revolving around gender.”

At the show’s single performance, Jinks wrote the following in the program:

During the first few weeks of this current semester the Devised Theatre class was developing a different play than the one you will see today. It was called the The Politics of Dancing and it was to be performed in the Vivia Locke in February of 2016. The devised class would build it and perform it, with me serving as facilitator and director. Over a year ago I made preliminary choices to jump start the process with the class. We were to deconstruct Ibsen’s play A Doll’s House and build a new piece by looking at Ibsen’s work through the lens of gender identification, transgenderism and gender politics – subjects which are omnipresent in the media of late. However other lessons (struggles) interrupted that process.

Jinks believes that some of the problems that arose came from many in the theatre department being unfamiliar with company-created theatre.

“I was working with faculty who have no experience with devising, but I thought we were addressing those needs, “ she said, noting that there was “some rigidity, some pushback even before it was canceled.” Jinks said she discounted that response, calling it “irrelevant.”

“It was so early in the process, the play could have gone in any direction. We had four months. They canceled it because the idea was threatening.”

Jinks described a series of meetings with the dean, the provost, the faculty council and the Office of Equal Opportunity between November and early February.”

“I was met with a wall of silence and denial,” she said, “I’d like them to tell me why it isn’t a denial of academic freedom of speech.”

In February, Jinks met with Kimbrough and the provost.

“I gave both men my action requests, “ she said. “One, Andrew was to acknowledge that an error was made in canceling The Politics of Dancing. Two, Andrew would apologize to the department – faculty, staff and students. Three, the department would write policy so that this doesn’t happen again. Four, there would be a recusal from professional advancement discussion by Andrew over me.”

“Andrew said no to one and two,” she continued. “He did say he would apologize for not having everyone in the same room at the same time to discuss the issue.”

Jinks has been at Oklahoma State University for five years, four of those on a tenure track. She will be up for tenure review in two years.

*   *   *

Dr. Andrew Kimbrough was contacted by e-mail and asked for an on the record interview regarding this situation. His entire reply was as follows

I’ll be happy to speak to you once our challenge is fully resolved and behind us. I’m learning a lot, and would appreciate more professional response. Thanks.

A second request, noting that his replies to The O’Colly would be the only opportunity for his voice to be heard in this article, received no reply.

Since Dr. Kimbrough asked for more professional response, it seems only appropriate to provide him with some.

My first thought is to say that if indeed you are not already well-versed, Dr. Kimbrough, you should become familiar with the process of devised theatre as an evolutionary process that cannot necessarily be given a label more than half a year in advance and be expected to stick to exactly the original premise. That said, devised theatre must have a place in the OSU theatre department with the full resources of the department, because devised theatre is important both academically and creatively; it is essential that theatre students of today learn about and experience devised, collaborative works to prepare them forprofessional careers.

Please reconsider your statements and overall perspective, Dr. Kimbrough, about the audience being the most important arbiter of what students perform at OSU. Your assertion in The O’Colly, “When you’re running a business, this is the No. 1 rule,” seems profoundly misplaced within an academic theatre program. Students should not be educated according to the perceived preferences of the local consumer marketplace, but rather taught in order to develop their talent, their skills, and their knowledge so that they themselves are competitive in the marketplace of theatre. Indeed, if your position on why we make theatre were voiced by the artistic director of most of America’s not-for-profit theatres, that individual would be questioned by many in the field for abdicating the role of an artistic leader and kowtowing to lowest common denominator sentiments. Yes, there are financial demands on all theatres, and theatre cannot survive without an audience, but those concerns need to operate in balance with the creative impulse. To visit those concerns on students who have paid for a complete theatrical education, with audience satisfaction superseding the education imperative,  seems a corruption of the role of academics.

Dr. Kimbrough, your students have the same sentiments as I do.

Jessica Smoot wrote, “He sees this department as a business, and while that has been very beneficial when building the department, it can become dangerous for the creative integrity of the department, which I think is very detrimental to our department. There are ways to warn people to not come if you’re easily offended – add ratings, label shows as avant garde or fringe – but don’t take freedom of speech from the students. We will spend the rest of our lives having to worry about where the money to support our art will come from. Let us have some freedom while we still have the ability to not worry about finance, so that when producing our work becomes harder, we will be creating better quality work from the start because we have already had a chance to practice.”

Joshua Arbaugh wrote, “How could we possibly predict what every audience member came to see and how do we know whether or not there is a completely different audience that has simply been alienated by these ‘choices’ in the past. When someone says, “We need to cater to our audience.” That person is really saying, ‘what’s going to be the most digestible to the kinds of people I personally want to come to these shows.’ My answer is no, the theater season should not be selected to impress Andrew’s hetero-normative white friends.”

Finally Dr. Kimbrough, while one would hope you would do so in all things, it’s particularly incumbent upon you when your department has an endowed chair for underrepresented voices to always demonstrate genuine concern and respect for the students who embody those voices and the professor directly charged with serving them. When you offered the students the opportunity to pursue their vision in a smaller space due to your concerns over the marketability of a piece which appeared to be leaning towards a consideration of gender, and they were subsequently informed that they would receive no technical support and no promotion, you were effectively suppressing art on that subject, regardless of your intent.

I am very fond of Almost Maine (and its author, John Cariani) and I’ve seen Cabaret numerous times, but I don’t think those are shows which deeply explore gender issues and represent efforts at diversity, as you suggested to The O’Colly. You need to redress the impression you have instilled in your students as quickly as possible, by planning for work which explicitly examines that topic, either on the mainstage or for a sustained run in the studio. In addition, you would do well to endorse a new student devised work on the subject of gender in modern society that you will stand behind as firmly as you do The 39 Steps or As You Like It (which does have a bit of gender bending of its own, rendered safe by being 400 years old).

On top of all of this, Dr. Kimbrough, to speak your language for a moment, if money is an important consideration, your actions may be alienating a presumably important donor. To cite an article in The Gayly:

“Literally, the name of this endowed professorship is ‘The Mary Lou Lemon Endowed Professorship for underrepresented voices,’” said Robyn Lemon, daughter of the late Mary Lou Lemon. “Not allowing these students to perform this play contradicts the very reason this entire professorship was set up.”

The bottom line here is that the education of students must come first at a university, and that education must not be simply current but forward-thinking in its philosophy, its pedagogy and its practice. The Politics of Dancing isn’t likely to be resurrected; its moment has passed. But if Oklahoma State University theatre wishes to stand for excellence, if it wants to both compete for students and for the students it graduates to be competitive, it must make very clear that it embraces students no matter their gender identity, their race, their ability or disability – in short, it must be genuinely and consistently inclusive – and it should use its stages to make that clear to the entire university, the local community and beyond.

*   *   *

One last word: as The O’Colly researched its story on this subject, Kimbrough acknowledged that he attempted to have the story quashed. He was quoted saying, “I think it would be in the best interest of the department if there was no negative publicity of this incident.” When there are charges of censoring a piece of theatre by reducing its potential audience significantly and withdrawing support from it, that’s not a very good time to also try to keep the story from being told. As is so often the case, efforts to avoid negative stories only lead to yet more inquiry and more concern. That holds true for decisions to cease answering questions about a subject in the public eye. Theatre is about telling stories and very often, about revealing truths. The story of The Politics of Dancing is incomplete. It is up to Oklahoma State Theatre to bring it to an honest, open, inclusive and satisfying ending for all concerned.

Howard Sherman is director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School College of Performing Arts. This post originally appeared at artsintegrity.org.

Casting Notice for American Idiot at Enfield High School

“Welcome to a new kind of tension.
All across the alienation.
Where everything isn’t meant to be okay.”

The details are very sketchy. The drama director hasn’t yet responded to a call or e-mail. The school principal said that he “wasn’t comfortable” talking about it without the approval of the superintendent, which he did say he would seek. The licensing house that handles the rights for the musical has not responded to an e-mail inquiry about approved changes (although the company’s president is overseas). An anonymous source who provided some background materials won’t be named publicly because they fear recriminations against their child in the school system.

But here’s what’s known: the Enfield High School Lamplighters, in Enfield CT, were scheduled to perform the musical American Idiot this spring, with auditions set for January 13 and 14, with callbacks on January 15. Performances were set for early May.

On January 17, Nate Ferreira, faculty director of the Lamplighters, sent a general e-mail to the school community which included the following statement:

As most of you know, we had a drama club meeting this past Wednesday to discuss the details of producing “American Idiot” as our final show this school year. Due to the mature content of the original production, I have been working with the publisher to modify the script, to ensure that it would be appropriate for a high school group to perform.

This project was very successful, and we feel that the modified script and production notes maintain the integrity of the show, while removing profanity and the more adult scenarios in the original Broadway production. The publisher is even starting the process of turning our edited version of the script into their official “School Edition” of the play, to allow other high schools to easily perform this play in the future.

As I’ve stated at our student/parent meetings during the past two school years: this extended production process was intended to allow us to work on a show that most of the kids were extremely excited about, while continuing the award-winning Lamplighters tradition of exploring serious issues in a mature and responsible way. In the same way that our presentation of the student-authored and directed “Happily Never After” last year did an excellent job of handling the difficult issues of domestic abuse and justifiable homicide, “American Idiot” opens discussion about many issues of young adulthood.

Unfortunately, a very small number of extremely vocal people have complained about our choice of production. This led to Mr. Longey [principal Andrew Longey] and I meeting on Friday to discuss a change in our choice of production. To be clear, Mr. Longey did not force us to change – he and I took a long and careful look at all aspects of the show, and all arguments on either side. At this late stage it is very difficult to switch to a different play, but I do feel that it is best for us to set aside “American Idiot” for the time being. I want ALL of our club members to be able to be a part of our musical, and I want to be absolutely certain that the play happens at all.

Billie Joe Armstrong in American Idiot on Broadway

Currently, the last post on the Lamplighters Facebook page is a reference to a meeting on January 20. There is no announcement of a new show for the spring.

While hopefully more details will fall into place, there is someone else who would like to see the production of American Idiot go on. I reached out to Christine Jones, who designed the set for the Broadway production of American Idiot, in an effort to make Green Day frontman Billie Joe Armstrong, the composer and lyricist of the show, aware of the situation. Armstrong sent back the following message through Jones in a little over an hour’s time, and reportedly also posted it on Instagram (it is reproduced here precisely as he wrote it):

dear Enfield high school board,

It has come to my attention that you cancelled your high school theater production of American Idiot.

I realize the content of the Broadway production of AI is not quite “suitable” for a younger audience.

However there is a high school rendition of the production and I believe that’s the one Enfield was planning to perform which is suitable for most people.

it would be a shame if these high schoolers were shut down over some of the content that may be challenging for some of the audience. but the bigger issue is censorship. this production tackles issues in a post 9/11 world and I believe the kids should be heard. and most of all be creative in telling a story about our history.

I hope you reconsider and allow them to create an amazing night of theater!

as they say on Broadway ..

“the show must go on!”

rage and love

Billie Joe Armstrong

P.S. I love that your school is called “Raiders”

Mr. Ferreira seems to have followed every appropriate step in the process of planning this show for Enfield High, but the production has been suspended. Yet he is still hoping that American Idiot will be done at some point. So is its author, who has apparently granted permission to alter the work to make it more appropriate in a school setting. Perhaps there’s still room for dialogue, and Enfield High can still give its students the opportunity to take on challenging, modern work.

If indeed a few parents resulted in spoiling this experience for all of the Lamplighters, that would be a real shame that denies opportunity to many in order to satisfy the views of a few. I’d rather at this turning point, the school was directing the students where to go – towards work that will help them grow as performers and as people, towards work that provokes rather than palliates. I hope they’re allowed to have the time of their lives with American Idiot, sooner than later.

Update, January 25, 10:45 pm: In an article in The Hartford Courant that went online an hour ago, the Lamplighters director Mr. Ferreira represents his intended revisions to the text of American Idiot in a markedly different framework than he did in his e-mail to the school community. Per The Courant:

Ferreira said the performance included “a lot of swearing,” which Ferreira said he’d hoped to limit or eliminate pending approval from the publisher. “There’s some heavy drug use and graphic sex scenes, not things we were going to depict to the extent they did in the original show.”

This is a far cry from the tone of Ferreira’s e-mail, which declared:

“I have been working with the publisher to modify the script, to ensure that it would be appropriate for a high school group to perform. This project was very successful, and we feel that the modified script and production notes maintain the integrity of the show, while removing profanity and the more adult scenarios in the original Broadway production. The publisher is even starting the process of turning our edited version of the script into their official “School Edition” of the play, to allow other high schools to easily perform this play in the future.”

In my original post, I said it seemed that Ferreira had followed the appropriate steps, and now by his own admission, that is clearly not the case; he did not have approval to make any changes, he had not undertaken a successful project that would influence future productions. While I think there may still be opportunities for Enfield students to benefit from performing in American Idiot, they cannot do so in any version not fully approved by the authors and their representatives.

I don’t support a small number of parents ending the opportunity for the majority of the Lamplighters, but I also don’t support Ferreira’s effort to aggrandize his own sanitized version of the text. This has been a lose-lose proposition at Enfield High: the show has been shut down without being properly defended, and there has been an effort to misrepresent to the community that Ferreira’s text was authorized and even praised, obscuring the authors’ rights and copyright protections.  Unfortunately, the students lose as well.

Update, January 26, 6:30 am: I received the following e-mail from Nate Ferreira at 1:55 am this morning, more than 17 hours after I first attempted to contact him, 14 hours after Principal Longey said he could not comment without the approval of the superintendent, 11 hours after my original post went online, and three hours after the previous update was posted. It is reproduced in its entirety precisely as it was received (except for the lack of paragraph spacing, which is a formatting problem on my site).

Thank you for reaching out to me. I’m sorry that I didn’t see your email until after you had finished writing your post.

Here are some more details regarding our decision not to perform American Idiot. As the director of the school’s drama club, I was very excited to produce American Idiot, and to explore the issues raised by the material.

Due to the fact that some of our club families were not comfortable with their kids being involved in the show, it was my decision to perform a different show. This was not a decision forced on me by the school administration, it was simply what i felt was best for our club membership. Many of the kids were disappointed by this decision, but others were happy because this would allow them to be involved again. I had also begun to feel that the material itself would be better served if I were to stage American Idiot _unedited_ with another local organization, and encourage the families who still wanted to do the show to become involved with it there.

My decision to change the show came prior to finalizing the contract and payment, prior to any rehearsal, and prior to casting or auditions. As with any show that would require edits for a high school group, I had a full list of changes that I felt were necessary to the dialogue, and they would have had to meet approval by the publisher. I made several phone calls to MTI during the past year, and their staff were extremely helpful in explaining the procedures for requesting edits.

I stand by my decision to change our choice of production, and I have always felt that the school administration has been supportive of our efforts.

That being said, I am elated that people like yourself are fighting for the freedom of thought and expression that is so vital to the arts. Your coverage of our situation has helped to shed light on the issue, and to spark serious discussion in our community. Mr. Armstrong’s support has likewise invigorated our students. Although we will not be performing American Idiot for our end of year production, you can be sure that the Lamplighters will continue to push boundaries and explore serious issues.

Thanks again,

Nate Ferreira

Director, Enfield Lamplighters

This post will be updated as additional information becomes available.

Thanks to the National Coalition Against Censorship, which first became aware of this situation and brought it to my attention.

Howard Sherman is director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School College of Performing Arts

Renée Elise Goldsberry, Lin-Manuel Miranda and Phillipa Soo in Hamilton (Photo by Joan Marcus)

In the wake of the recent casting controversies over Katori Hall’s The Mountaintop and Lloyd Suh’s Jesus in India, there have been a number of online commenters who have cited Lin-Manuel Miranda’s musical Hamilton as a justification for their position in the debate. What’s intriguing is that Hamilton has been offered up both as evidence of why actors of color must have the opportunity to play both characters or color and characters not necessarily written as characters of color – but it has also been used to say that anything goes, and white actors should be able to play characters of color as well.

In the Broadway production of Hamilton, the characters are historical figures who were all known to have been white, but they are played by actors of many races and ethnicities, notably black, Latino and Asian. My position on non-traditional (or color-blind or color-specific) casting is that it is not a “two-way street,” and that the goal is to create more opportunities for actors of color, not to give white actors the chance to play characters of color.

As it happens, I had an interview scheduled with Miranda last week, the night before Thanksgiving. Race wasn’t the subject at all, however. We were speaking about his experiences in, and views on, high school theatre, for Dramatics magazine, a publication of the Educational Theatre Association (ask a high school thespian for a copy). But when I finished the main interview, and had shut off my voice recorder, I asked Miranda if he would be willing to make any comment regarding the recent casting situations that had come to light. He was familiar with The Mountaintop case, but I had to give him an exceptionally brief précis of what had occurred with Jesus in India. He said he would absolutely speak to the issue, and I had to hold up my hand to briefly pause him as he rushed to start speaking, while I started recording again.

“My answer is: authorial intent wins. Period,” Miranda said. “As a Dramatists Guild Council member, I will tell you this. As an artist and as a human I will tell you this. Authorial intent wins. Katori Hall never intended for a Caucasian Martin Luther King. That’s the end of the discussion. In every case, the intent of the author always wins. If the author has specified the ethnicity of the part, that wins.

“Frankly, this is why it’s so important to me, we’re one of the last entertainment mediums that has that power. You go to Hollywood, you sell a script, they do whatever and your name is still on it. What we protect at the Dramatists Guild is the author’s power over their words and what happens with them. It’s very cut and dry.”

This wasn’t the first time Miranda and I have discussed racial casting. Last year, we corresponded about it in regard to high school productions of his musical In The Heights, and his position on the show being done by high schools without a significant Latino student body, which he differentiated from even college productions.

Lin-Manuel Miranda, Karen Olivo and the company of In The Heights (Photo by Joan Marcus)

“The joy of In The Heights runs both ways to me,” he wrote me in early 2014. “When I see a school production with not a lot of Latino students doing it, I know they’re learning things about Latino culture that go beyond what they’re fed in the media every day. They HAVE to learn those things to play their parts correctly. And when I see a school with a huge Latino population do Heights, I feel a surge of pride that the students get to perform something that may have a sliver of resonance in their daily lives. Just please God, tell them that tanning and bad 50’s style Shark makeup isn’t necessary. Latinos come in every color of the rainbow, thanks very much.

“And I’ve said this a million times, but it bears repeating: high school’s the ONE CHANCE YOU GET, as an actor, to play any role you want, before the world tells you what ‘type’ you are. The audience is going to suspend disbelief: they’re there to see their kids, whom they already love, in a play. Honor that sacred time as educators, and use it change their lives. You’ll be glad you did.”

Daveed Diggs and the company of Hamilton (Photo by Joan Marcus)

Anticipating the flood of interest in producing Hamilton once the Broadway production and national tours have run their courses, I asked Miranda whether the acting edition of the script of Hamilton will ultimately be specific about the cast’s diversity, and whether, either at the college level or the professional level, he would foresee a situation where white actors were playing leading roles.

“I don’t have the answer to that. I have to consult with the bookwriter, who is also me,” he responded. “I’m going to know the answer a little better once we set up these tours and once we set up the London run. I think the London cast is also going to look like our cast looks now, it’s going to be as diverse as our cast is now, but there are going to be even more opportunities for southeast Asian and Asian and communities of color within Europe that should be represented on stage in that level of production.

“So I have some time on that language and I will find the right language to make sure that the beautiful thing that people love about our show and allows them identification with the show is preserved when this goes out into the world.”

Authorial intent, y’all. Authorial intent.

Howard Sherman is interim director of the Alliance for Inclusion in the Arts and director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School College of Performing Arts.

Jonathan Larson’s Rent at Eastern Tennessee State University (Photo by Larry Smith)

I assume most people, either as a child heard, or as a parent deployed, the timeworn phrase, “If someone told you to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you do it?” My parents had a variant along the same lines: “Just because other people do it doesn’t make it right.”

I am reminded of this phrase as it seems every week lately I hear about another instance of a theatre director altering a script or overriding an author’s clear intent; the recent run of examples has been with college-affiliated productions. I wonder whether the people responsible have had others set the wrong example, and they felt they could just join in, or if they just started doing it and, since they were never challenged or caught, kept it up.

The most prominent incidents have been with Katori Hall’s The Mountaintop, at a community theatre affiliated with Kent State University’s Department of Pan-African Studies, and with Lloyd Suh’s Jesus in India at Clarion University. In both of those cases, the issue was the casting of roles written as characters of color.

In a markedly less fraught situation which didn’t generate any major headlines, a production of Rent at Eastern Tennessee State University, just before Thanksgiving, had to cancel one day of a five-day run because the show’s licensing house learned of a scene that had been cut without approval. The lost day was used to restore the scene in question, as reported by the campus newspaper, The East Tennessean.

In its coverage, the paper quoted Patrick Cronin, the production’s director and the Program Director of Communication and Performance at the school, as to what had taken place.

“I have directed hundreds of shows, and made many cuts before,” Cronin said. “So, I did the same with the street scenes [in ‘Rent’] because we did not have enough actors to make those scenes interesting.”

At the end of the article, Cronin was again quoted:

“I have a young cast who were able to add six pages of material in two days,” Cronin said. “I am just grateful that we got the show on and that we caught the mistake I had made.”

While the school paper didn’t draw attention to the inconsistency, it’s worth noting that Cronin said that what he did was a mistake, but earlier on he had said it was consistent with what he’d done numerous times before. Secondly, it’s not Cronin who caught the mistake, but someone at the school familiar enough with what had been taking place in the rehearsal room – and with copyright and licensing law – to contact Music Theatre International and give them a heads up about the unauthorized alteration. Finally, isn’t it interesting to note that a solution was found to the supposedly problematic scene, in almost no time at all.

Some might accuse me of conflating the first two examples, which turn on the issue of race in casting, with the third, which was the excision of a scene. But I’d argue that they’re all of a piece, because they involve directors either misinterpreting works or placing their own sensibility above that of the author, be it for practical, aesthetic or intellectual reasons. While I don’t have press reports I can bring forward, I can say that since I began writing on this topic, I have been told numerous anecdotes about shows in academic settings that have been altered for any number of reasons, all without approval.

So I have to wonder: are some theatre programs and theatrical groups at the college level advancing the belief that scripts can be altered at will, or elements ignored? Are schools teaching both the legal and ethical implications of artists’ rights and copyright law, not just to playwrights but to all of those who study theatre? Have bad practices begotten yet further bad practices? Are there professors and program directors who believe that anything produced on a campus falls under the fair use exemption for educational purposes under the copyright laws?

Lest anyone think I’m advocating for slavish recreations of original productions or less than fruitful collaborations on new works, I should state that I most assuredly am not. I want to see directors, whether students or faculty (and, for that matter, professionals as well), have the opportunity to undertake creative productions that will challenge the artists involved and the audiences they attract. I want to see works reinvented, but in ways which reveal something new that is supported by the text, rather than overriding it. That said, I am troubled by a sense that in some cases (I’m not saying that this applies to every production at every school) something approaching film’s auteur theory, in which the director of a movie is seen as its primary author, is filtering into theatre at the pre-professional level in a way which diminishes or disregards the importance and rights of authors.

I have a genuine desire to know the answers to some of the questions I’ve asked above. I’d be interested in those answers not only from faculty but from students both past and present. What is being taught about the relationship between playwright and director, regardless of whether the latter is present in rehearsals, available via computer or phone, otherwise engaged, or even dead but still protected by copyright? I ask because I think we all have a lot to learn. I’d like to hear from you, either on the record or confidentially; you can write to me here.

Oh, since I started with timeworn phrases, let me finish with one as well, which believe it or not I’ve heard more than a few times over my career: “Better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.” These are not, I hope you’ll agree, words to live by.  Even if some seem to.

Howard Sherman is director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School College of Performing Arts.

The Bad Seed at Portage High School (Photo by Sarah Farthing-Hudson)

I am delighted to report that all of the smoking, drinking, drugging and sexual references will be intact – tonight, tomorrow and Sunday – in the production of Maxwell Anderson’s 1950s psychodrama The Bad Seed at Portage High School in northwestern Indiana. This may seem entirely unremarkable, except that just 11 days ago, students were still being instructed to strike out lines in their scripts and change stage directions to purge the production of all such content. Even the presence of an ashtray wasn’t going to be permitted.

Mind you, I’m not specifically celebrating cigarette smoking, drug use, alcohol consumption or sexual activities among teens, but rather their ability to portray these activities in a script some six decades old. More importantly, I want to congratulate the students for responding in the best possible– and effective – way when they were instructed to censor the script, knowing full well that no approval had been sought from the licensing house or the author’s estate.

I caught wind of this situation last Wednesday morning, when NWI Times published a story about Portage Thespians appearing at a school board meeting the night before, to express their dismay over the editing they had been instructed to undertake. Per the newtimes.com account, the school board chair professed to know nothing about any censorship, and she asked the superintendent to investigate.

I received the article via Facebook within an hour of it appearing online in Indiana, and I quickly undertook to track down the students who had so responsibly brought the issue to the school board. By noontime, after some social media searching, I was in communication with several students who had been part of the appeal at the board meeting. I quickly learned that the school superintendent had asked to meet with the students after school that very day. I offered some general counsel about broaching the subject at that meeting, and then simply waited for a report as to how things were proceeding.

The Bad Seed at Portage High School (Photo by Sarah Farthing-Hudson)

Imagine my surprise when, just a few hours later, I learned from the students online that The Bad Seed would be performed intact. Students tweeted happily about erasing crossed out lines from their scripts. All was well. The next day, the nwitimes confirmed the news in a followup story.

When situations like this arise at other schools in the future, those committed to the ethically and legally correct path of producing plays as written would do well to remember the words of Portage superintendent. “The director is encouraged to do the show and given the support to use his best judgment to do what is right for the students,” wrote superintendent Richard Weigel once the situation was resolved. He’d already said, in a statement, “From my perspective, the purpose of theater is to provide insights into characters that reflect different ways of thinking. Theater provides an opportunity for our students to reflect on those characters, not become those characters.”

More importantly, people should emulate students like Lydia Gerike, Sara Dailey and Valerie Plinovich (all named by the NWI Times), who spoke out with clarity and integrity in support of the play and their exploration of it. They didn’t need any coaching from anyone, it seems. They knew just what to do to put the situation right.

Mind you, it’s never come entirely clear who demanded the changes to the script, but it seems reasonably safe to assume that it happened somewhere above the drama program’s director and below the level of the superintendent. Infer what you will about who in the school hierarchy might have been behind the effort.

Calm, rational, righteous heads set thing right in Portage, so that homicidal Rhoda Penmark can wreak havoc tonight, tomorrow night and at Sunday’s matinee. I applaud the Portage Thespians from afar. I may not have occasion to be in touch with any of them again. But they deserve credit, along with their superintendent and school board, for making sure things happened as they should, with the play performed as written and students freed to explore characters and habits not necessarily their own. Now all of those involved just need to keep their eyes open for any subsequent homogenization of Portage High School productions, to make sure that the censorship doesn’t happen before future plays are chosen, and the unknown bad seed in this censorship story doesn’t succeed in the long run by foisting bland material on the next wave of shows and students.

So the only thing left to say to the Portage Thespians, as is only appropriate for a show like The Bad Seed, is: knock ‘em dead, kids.

Howard Sherman is director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School College of Performing Arts School of Drama.

Robert Branch and Camila Christian in The Mountaintop at Kent State University

In the many press accounts of director Michael Oatman casting a white man to play Dr. Martin Luther King in Katori Hall’s The Mountaintop, stories have all acknowledged Oatman’s original concept of splitting the role between black and white actors. His intent was, in his words:

“I truly wanted to explore the issue of racial ownership and authenticity.  I didn’t want this to be a stunt, but a true exploration of King’s wish that we all be judged by the content of our character and not the color of our skin,” said Oatman about his non-traditional cast.  “I wanted the contrast . . . I wanted to see how the words rang differently or indeed the same, coming from two different actors, with two different racial backgrounds.”

That narrative has prevailed, even when Katori Hall let it be known that she did not and would not ever approve of a white actor playing King in her play. Just as I had in my original post on this incident, she wondered why the black actor sharing the role was so little in evidence. Even after speaking with Oatman, Hall wrote:

“It’s true that Oatman only fell halfway off the ‘turn-up’ truck; the white actor was indeed sharing the role with another black actor. But the fact that this mystery actor has remained nameless further demonstrates the erasure of the black body in this experiment. Even on the school newspaper’s website, only the white actor’s name is listed.”

As it turns out, the reason this black actor is so scarce is because no black actor performed in the role of Martin Luther King at Kent State. As part of an interview with Oatman, the Akron Beacon Journal reports:

“At Kent State, Oatman originally double cast the King role, with white actor Robert Branch for three performances and a black actor for five shows. When more than one black actor dropped out due to family and other personal issues, Branch, whom Oatman described as one of the best actors he’s ever seen, assumed all eight performances.”

Even if one gives credence to Oatman’s intellectual basis for attempting to split the role, it evaporated along with the unnamed black actor, regardless of Branch’s talent. At that point, the already unjustifiable production should have been irrevocably abandoned, since the entire conceptual underpinning had come undone. What Oatman did was not a half-measure, as Hall was apparently led to believe, as we were all led to believe, but indeed the complete erasure of a black body as she had feared. There was no rationalization left, yet despite the intense press interest since Hall published her essay on TheRoot.com, Oatman at best quietly allowed a myth to be sustained, or at worst actively sought to keep the truth of the production secret to anyone interested, until this interview.

That this fact is virtually an aside in the Beacon Journal’s follow-up, which largely affords an unfettered opportunity for Oatman to advance his reasoning yet again, with nothing but quotes from Hall’s essay as pushback, seems a conscious effort to minimize the facts of the narrative. In citing supportive messages from friends on Oatman’s Facebook page, and noting that there were only a few walkouts as if that made the casting acceptable, the Beacon Journal is complicit in failing to address the willful lack of fidelity to the playwright’s intent. Where are the quotes from Hall’s friends, who were outraged. In addition, by saying at one point of Hall that “she railed,” rather than “she wrote,” there is also an implication that Hall’s thoughts on this issue were somehow not presented in an “acceptable” manner, another unfortunate choice.

So the summary of the Kent State Mountaintop story is: the creative decision was faulty to begin with, ultimately abandoned (no matter what the reason) and possibly kept secret even as scrutiny was focused on the production. Whether by omission or misdirection, Oatman has compounded his troubling creative decision immeasurably.

Though Oatman has said he wouldn’t make this particular choice again, he seems unbowed by the response from Hall and the playwriting community. He told the Journal:

“I think artists get too touchy about this kind of stuff,” he said. “I think whenever you make a controversial decision like this you have to allow the audience their space to react as they’re going to react. That’s what theater is about.”

If a director’s ethical and legal responsibility to other artists is dismissed as being “touchy,” indeed by someone who is primarily a playwright, any questions about Oatman’s judgment in this case should no longer be in question. He finds widely accepted professional practices to be a nuisance, when they are fundamental to the field he works in.

If his goal was to court controversy, Oatman has probably succeeded beyond his wildest dreams, and there may be more yet to come. But if his goal was to illuminate Katori Hall’s play for audiences, it’s quite clear that he failed, even if people applauded. He may have thought originally that what he was doing wasn’t a stunt, but in the end, that’s just what it turned out to be.

Update, November 16, 4:45 pm: In sharing my post on Facebook, Katori Hall prefaced it, in part, with the following statement:

“…When I spoke to Michael Oatman via phone October 27th, he never disclosed the fact that the black actor never went on, even when I questioned the validity of his social experiment of seeing if the ‘words rang differently or indeed the same, coming from two different actors, with two different racial backgrounds.’

I learned that the black actor never went on when Oatman was interviewed Friday night by Don Lemon on CNN. Surprise, surprise.

Howard Sherman is the interim director of the Alliance for Inclusion in the Arts and director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School College of Performing Arts School of Drama.

Rehearsal for Jesus in India at Clarion University

“The students are victims,” writes playwright Lloyd Suh, regarding the events that led to his play Jesus in India being canceled a little more than a week before it was to be produced at Clarion University in Pennsylvania. Presumably, anyone learning of students who have been preparing a production for weeks, only to not be able to present it to audiences, would agree with that statement, no matter what they may think of the circumstance surrounding the cancelation, first reported in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. It is truly unfortunate. But there are larger issues and perhaps greater lessons at stake.

As many others have reported, Suh wrote earlier this week to Marilouise Michel, professor of theatre in the Department of Visual and Performing Arts at Clarion, asking that either three roles written as Indian characters but cast at Clarion with two Caucasian students and one mixed race student, either be cast with students of color or the production canceled. The university theatre department opted for the latter.

* * *

Regarding the casting of Caucasian students in specifically ethnic roles, Michel said, “I realized that the Jewish characters were from Palestine. In my mind, to truly cast them correctly they would have had to be Palestinian, I guess, and the Indian characters would have to be Indian. But I read Mr. Suh’s program notes from the production at the Magic Theatre in San Francisco, where he specifically states that the play is for anybody, the play is universal. Perhaps I misunderstood what he meant, but I thought I was taking him at his word, so I cast it without thinking what color people were at all. I would have cast a black Jesus if I had the right person for the role. I wasn’t thinking that this was a play about race. When I do plays about race, I try to be extraordinarily sensitive to those issues.”

In a statement, included below in its entirety, Suh speaks specifically to his comment, writing, “Much has been made of an interview I gave years ago in which I used the word ‘universal’ to describe the play. But universal does not and should not mean white, or the privilege of ignoring race. I wish it were not so difficult to accept that an actor of color, playing a character of color, could convey something universal. To understand that white actors should not be the default option for any role. To recognize that people of color are not simply replaceable.”

Regarding casting beyond the specifics of a script, Michel said, “It’s not unusual in college productions to change the gender of a character to offer opportunities to the students that are available.” Asked whether approval for such changes are sought from playwrights or their representatives, she said, “I don’t deal with the contracts. The department chair and the student association deal with the contracts. But should it seem like we’re doing something that’s against the contract, we would definitely address it. I always check with my superiors if I think that’s going to be an issue.” The superior she was referring to was department chair Bob Levy, who declined via e-mail to be interviewed for this piece.

She continued, “We’ve never done it in a play where we thought race was an important issue of the script, or the gender was an important issue of the script. Sometimes the director might address the issue in the program of why it was done. While I hesitate to connect myself to Michael Oatman [director of The Mountaintop at Kent State where a white actor was cast as Martin Luther King], it would be similar in that it’s an academic exercise of, ‘what if?’ which is what we do in acting.”

As for the issue of race in Jesus in India, Michel said, “I don’t feel like it was the focus of the play. I feel like the focus teenagers coming of age and maturing, and that’s what spoke to me about the script and led me to think this would be a wonderful opportunity for the students in my program.”

To Suh, authentic representation of race is essential. He wrote, “I could not allow the play to be performed with white actors in non-white roles before a public audience. This is not a unique position. It is not strange or radical. It is common industry practice that productions of copyrighted plays adhere to the requirements of the text. In addition, as a writer of color in a field where representation and visibility are ongoing struggles, I feel a responsibility to provide opportunities for artists of color to be seen, and to protect that work from distortion in the public eye. The practice of using white actors to portray non-white characters has deep roots in ugly racist traditions. It sends a message, intended or not, that is exclusionary at best, dehumanizing at worst.”

Michel noted that, in planning the production, “I was expecting controversy, but I wasn’t expecting this.” She explained, “In my little small, conservative community I had Jesus saying ‘fuck ‘ over and over. He’s smoking weed, he’s got a girl, he gets a girl pregnant, he screams ‘I pulled out’ at one point. He says ‘My god damn father.” All of which I’m cringing at, thinking, I have to be brave and represent this playwright’s work. We’re going to be pickets by the conservative Christians. I’m getting e-mails from conservative Christians saying their prayers have been answered, implying we got what we deserved. They’re so glad that this play is not going to be produced in our community, because it portrays Jesus as different from the Bible.”

* * *

Clarion University’s Home Page

Clarion University is a small state university in Western Pennsylvania, with a student body of approximately 5,700 students in total, 4,900 being undergraduates, according to data from the National Center for Education Statistics. The school body is 83% white, 7% black, 2% Latino or Hispanic, 2% multiracial and 1% Asian. The Pittsburgh Post Gazette reported the Asian student body as being below 1%, but in real numbers on a campus of 5,700, 1% translates to a total of 57 Asian students. How must they feel in the midst of all this? These numbers do contrast with the representation of diversity implied by the university home page (shown at right) in which the racial representation seems much more broadly spread.

In light of the protests at the University of Missouri and Yale University in recent weeks, the subject of racial representation on campuses is top of mind for many people, and it certainly should extend into performing arts programs. On the one hand, the decision of the theatre program to produce a show set in India with Indian characters is an admirable step towards addressing diversity, but the likely inability to cast roles without racial authenticity calls into question whether the choice would ultimately make students of color feel included.

After what has transpired this week, will Michel think differently when producing works in which there are characters of color? “Well of course,” she replied, “particularly with living playwrights.”

Clarion’s website outlines an array of programs to address gender, racial and disability diversity. But despite the public controversy surrounding Jesus in India, Michel says that she has not spoken with anyone in those programs about what has transpired. “No one has reached out to me at this point,” she said.

* * *

It’s important to know that the planned production of Jesus in India at Clarion transformed the play, which had a few songs, into a full-blown musical. With permission from the playwright, Michel commissioned an original score which ran to 21 songs and underscoring. The playwright and his agent approved the composer, but for this one production, did not seek approval over the material itself. However, that did not extend to other approvals, for which the contract noted that the playwright’s approval was required.

Beth Blickers, Suh’s agent, commented that while she had inquired about the racial casting early on, and was told it was too early to know, but there was considerable communication about the new score.

“I think the music change is the key factor,” said Blickers. “That’s the thing they understood. The issue about ethnicity, they were reasonably oblivious to. They acknowledged that I asked and they belatedly said it wasn’t cast yet and then they forgot.”

Michel said that she had asked several times to confer with Suh, but was told he was unavailable. She said, “I believe that a dialogue early on, it would have come clear what his priorities were, that I wasn’t seeing things the way he was. I don’t disagree with his right to feel the way he does about his work. I just wish I had known, so that either we could have had a meeting of the minds or I wouldn’t have invested my time and my students in this venture.” Blickers said that Suh was wrapped up in other productions and family issues and didn’t have the time to visit Clarion or consult with them.

There has also been considerable discussion online over the timing of Suh’s letter, which he addresses in his statement. Michel says that it is her understanding that the contract was in force as soon as the university signed it and sent a $500 payment, and that since the check was cashed, all was in place. Blickers says that the contract was never received and that while the $500 check was cashed (and is now being returned), the contract was never signed by the playwright, and therefore the contract was not in force. Suh asserts that the first time he realized the play was going into production was via a posting of rehearsal photos on Facebook.

* * *

I have advocated previously about the rights of artists, most often playwrights, to control their work, and on the heels of the controversy over Jesus in India and The Mountaintop, I feel it’s incumbent upon me to restate that university productions are not exempt from copyright law or licensing contracts. While academic exploration in a classroom of a scene from a play which allows an actor to explore a role written for someone of another race may prove valuable, once the work is presented in front of an audience, or in its entirety, whether only to a university-based audience or the general public, the playwright’s wishes must take precedence. I say that from both an ethical and legal standpoint.

As for the idea that race doesn’t always matter or isn’t central to a particular work, if the playwright has indicated characters of a certain ethnicity, that should be adhered to, permission should be sought to make a change, or another work should be chosen. While Jesus in India may be still in manuscript form, and therefore lacking in some of the details an officially published script may contain, the combination of the title and character names of “Gopal,” “Mahari/Mary,” and “Sushil” seem quite specific. To assume that this information isn’t central to the playwright’s vision and the actors chosen to portray them needn’t be specific seems a willful overlooking of the context of the work, even if the race is not explicitly stated in the script or licensing agreement. As I wrote about The Mountaintop, and Katori Hall has done and Suh will now do, this seems to require even more specificity from playwrights, to insure their wishes are followed. This is not an effort to be racially divisive, but rather to insure that roles for artists of color remain in their grasp, in part to address the ongoing inequities in racial roles and racial casting.

“The conversation is how far are we going to take this,” Michel said to me, “with truly understanding all points of view, to not be a part of diminishing anyone’s pain or experience. I don’t want to diminish that, I just want to know how to make it right and tell stories that aren’t just about white girls.”

Given the makeup of the student body at Clarion, I understand the challenge. But the discussion is not so granular as wondering whether only actors of Irish descent should play Irish roles, as Michel asked me rhetorically in reference to an upcoming Clarion production. Instead, it is about insuring that roles written for people of color are never diminished, or to use Katori Hall’s word, “erased.”

And despite the pictures on the school’s website, if the theatre department is to be able to do shows about more than just “white girls,” it seems the university must address broadly diversifying the student body, not just so more plays can be done authentically, but so people of color are indeed not minorities on the campus, but truly well-represented in the school community, thereby enhancing and informing every aspect of campus life.

* * *

Earlier this morning, the official Clarion University Twitter feed contained the following message: “With the cancellation of ‘Jesus in India’ we hope to reflect upon how race and culture should relate to creative works such as these.”

As painful as this experience has been for all concerned, this seems a positive step. If indeed Clarion follows through, I hope they will avail themselves of resources in the theatrical community, who I have little doubt would be willing to travel to western Pennsylvania to participate in that process in a positive and supportive manner. And I’m willing to drive the van.

* * *

FULL STATEMENT FROM LLOYD SUH

Regarding the cancellation of my play JESUS IN INDIA at Clarion University, I hope the following statement clarifies my entire position.

My first contact with Clarion was in January, when Marilouise Michel requested a copy of the play and invited me to work on it with her students. Due to other commitments, I was unable to participate, but I did express willingness to let them use the play for classroom purposes without me.

I didn’t hear anything again until late May, when I was informed they were experimenting with the piece as a musical. It is highly atypical to do such work without direct collaboration from the author, so I asked for more information. In particular, if their exploration was simply for private, in-class use, I was happy to let them do whatever they desired. Although I could not participate directly, I was certainly curious what they might discover. However, if their intention was a full production with a public audience, I asked specifically whether they would be able to honor the general ethnicity of the characters.

I did not hear anything else from anyone at Clarion again until October 30, well into the rehearsal process.

I was not informed that a production was taking place.

I was not informed about any casting activities.

I was not informed about any license agreement granting rights to perform the play. It has since been confirmed to me that while negotiations towards an agreement did occur through my agent, no agreement was ever executed, meaning Clarion’s right to perform the play was, in fact, never granted.

Instead, on October 30, I was asked whether I would be able to Skype with the actors. Usually my response would be of course. However, because I had no idea a production was even taking place, my reaction was What?

So I searched online to find out what was happening, and saw photos that seemed to show two of the Indian characters portrayed by Caucasian actors, in total disregard for my earlier query. My agent immediately wrote to Ms. Michel for clarification. Her response on November 2 acknowledged receipt of our previous question on casting, but in her words:

“When you asked, I hadn’t cast the show, and then I forgot.”

On November 9, after confirming that a fully executed license agreement did not exist, I sent an email to Ms. Michel insisting that she either recast, or cancel the production. I absolutely understand that this has caused anger, confusion and disappointment among the actors and crew that had been hard at work on the piece. I do not take that lightly. The students are victims, and the timing of this mess has raised many questions. But the timing was never in my control.

I could not allow the play to be performed with white actors in non-white roles before a public audience. This is not a unique position. It is not strange or radical. It is common industry practice that productions of copyrighted plays adhere to the requirements of the text. In addition, as a writer of color in a field where representation and visibility are ongoing struggles, I feel a responsibility to provide opportunities for artists of color to be seen, and to protect that work from distortion in the public eye. The practice of using white actors to portray non-white characters has deep roots in ugly racist traditions. It sends a message, intended or not, that is exclusionary at best, dehumanizing at worst.

This includes university theater programs, which are a crucial part of the way professional theater is born. We are witnessing a moment on multiple college campuses where racial tensions are undeniable and extremely dangerous. I cannot grant university programs an allowance on these matters that I would never grant a professional theater.

Much has been made of an interview I gave years ago in which I used the word “universal” to describe the play. But universal does not and should not mean white, or the privilege of ignoring race. I wish it were not so difficult to accept that an actor of color, playing a character of color, could convey something universal. To understand that white actors should not be the default option for any role. To recognize that people of color are not simply replaceable.

It was not my intention to debate this matter in public. I attempted to settle the issue privately, but Clarion’s insistence on involving the press and releasing my personal communication has made this statement imperative. I am now grateful for that opportunity, as I hope this clears the air on my intentions, and the circumstances under which this cancellation has taken place.

* * *

Update, November 16 at 12 pm: I wrote more about the cancelation of Jesus in India at Clarion University, and the school’s public relations campaign against such. Read that post by clicking here.

Update, November 19 at 8 am: While it is only one issue in the discussion of Jesus in India at Clarion, and in my opinion notably subordinate to the central issues of artists’ rights and racial representation, I have continued to explore the topic of whether the play had been properly licensed. After conversations with both parties, as well as licensing companies that regularly contract for non-professional productions regarding common practices, I can say that there were some factors which could have led the theatre faculty at Clarion to believe they had licensed the play.

While the totality of the agreement prepared by Suh’s agency required signatures by both parties, a phrase early in the agreement (“when signed by you” as opposed to, say, “when signed by us both”) could suggest that only an official Clarion signature and a payment was required. Clarion maintains that they nonetheless returned a signed contract and made the required payment, which was accepted; the agency acknowledges receipt of the payment but not the signed contract, which is why a countersigned agreement was never returned to Clarion. Short of legal discovery to reveal all communications between the parties, the discrepancy over the sending and receipt of the agreement cannot be sorted definitively.

It is not uncommon for licensing companies – not authors’ agents – to send agreements to non-professional producers, a term which which encompasses academic productions, that do not require a signature and returned agreement at all. An e-mailed contract is considered the legal “offer” and receipt of payment is considered “acceptance” of all terms. However, that was not the case with this specific agreement, which was never fully executed and therefore not in force.

* * *

Howard Sherman is interim director of the Alliance for Inclusion in the Arts and director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School College of Performing Arts School of Drama.