Twenty-Eight

To all interested parties:

I spent a lot of time considering how to write this letter. There’s a lot to unpack regarding my experience at Circle in the Square Theatre School, most of which was beyond good, it was extraordinary. Most of the “tough love” teaching the faculty showed, by bluntly expressing themselves and their opinions, was something I was well-versed in, prior to my inception at the school. And, it was something I could handle. With that, what I’m sharing here is not to evoke pity, but rather shed light on slights by the faculty that fall in line with prejudice, racism, and specifically, anti-Blackness…whether the teachers knew they were contributing to these ideas, or not.

The primary experience I’ll share occurred in a Singing Interpretation class. It is important for me to note that while this incident is, in fact, an incident, I believe the teacher was unaware of the gravity of her words; however, it still abided by an atmosphere of oppression that I think Circle needs to deal with. Also, this story ends with her heeding my call to stop. She didn’t continue once I made it clear her words violated my safety. Now, the story. Winter break had just ended, and earlier that day, she saw me, and greeted me with an enthusiastic hello. So, when in class, as I prepared to work, and she saw that I cut my hair, I was confused why she seemed upset about it…when she encountered me hours before with the same haircut. She explained she thought I was a Middle Eastern classmate of mine, of the same name. She alleged that agents present, at the Showcase we were preparing for, wouldn’t be able to tell us apart. I explained we didn’t look alike, and the class agreed with me. She then continued to explain that my hair gave me a unique look, and that she was sure it would grab the attention of agents. I responded by asserting if a casting director, agent, or acting-industry-other didn’t hire me, simply because of my hair, I didn’t want to work with them anyway. She then continued to try to express how unique my look was, that it was primarily due to my hair, and that she was disappointed in the doors my new look closed. It was at this point I told her she needed to stop. I explained my hair is a marker for my heritage, and to relegate almost all my career potential to it, even for a moment, was towing the line of racism. She didn’t fight back, and simply asked me not to cut it, and we worked on my song. This whole exchange happened in front of my class. I had to stand up, alone, and challenge a teacher. I was able to handle it. I can understand why someone else wouldn’t. In this vein, that teacher was not alone. The head of the Voice Team, and Singing Technique teacher, also discussed my hair and even asserted that cutting my hair was a mistake, and that she was certain that my previous look alone would get me in the industry. I explained to her what I explained to the Singing Interpretation teacher, and while that teacher listened, the Singing Technique teacher continued to assert it was still a mistake. If that sentence was confusing, one teacher listened, the other did not. I should note I booked an off-Broadway show within a year of graduating, with short hair, and within months, auditioned and booked the lead role in the same show, with even shorter hair. I only include that, to encourage anyone reading this, that sometimes teachers don’t know what they’re talking about, and, it’s ok to acknowledge that, and continue to believe it, even when they tell you they’re right, and you’re not.

The next few examples serve as illustration for what you’ve already read (provided you’ve read the other letters). They are little things, though still slights, that simply must change. They don’t seem like a big deal, but that’s only because most of the people at Circle wouldn’t notice, because being marginalized based on skin color is not something most faculty (currently all but one) are well versed in. Having the white first year speech teacher purposefully use the word “ax” instead of “ask,” having every instructor while I was present be white (because the current POC teacher was a TA, and taught once a week while I was there), and even being up for a position as a teacher myself, only to be passed upon by a white colleague, are all things a POC, like myself, would notice. When you don’t see people, who look like you in a space where you’re being continually vulnerable and expressive, it weighs on you. Being a POC is already vulnerable. Then to add shedding layers off a humanity most don’t credit us with anyway, only magnifies the feeling of being, for lack of a better term, alone. This shouldn’t be disputed, or met with caution, but wholeheartedly heard, and met with compassion.

I’ll end where I started: my time at Circle was exemplary, but that doesn’t justify actions taken by the faculty that align with oppressive social precepts, whether they were aware of their actions or not. I didn’t include names because my intention isn’t to shame people, but rather, call for a complete overhaul of the entire structure. While I do believe there are some instructors that should be held accountable for their actions, it is my intent here, to address the larger problem held by the institution. I should also note, the stories I’ve shared are only a snapshot into the many times I have heavy-sighed at the sheer lack of awareness to deeply held prejudices regarding race at Circle. Let this be a wakeup call that you should be aware. A quote the Scene Study teacher always liked to share: “Awareness is the greatest gift an actor can give himself.” As an acting school, all those in any authority capacity, should shoulder the weight of this phrase and work to infiltrate it into the fabric of the institution. We, all these letter writers, are a call for awareness. Answer it.

— Anonymous

Twenty-Two

Note: Originally, a large part of the text of this letter was posted on my Instagram on July 16, 2020. A fellow alum who is one of the organizers of Circle of Inequity asked me if I would share my story on the website, so I am. 

While I am thankful for my training at Circle in the Square Theatre School, and the many amazing people I met who continue to love and support me to this day, I agree completely with the creators of this website that there are serious issues with the culture of the institution that need to be addressed. I stand with my fellow alumni who created this website, and affirm their demands. We want moral integrity in our industry. While the industry is on a pandemic break, I hope all white performers (myself included), theatre professionals, educators, and primarily white institutions take time to listen to the complaints and demands of our colleagues of color and consider where we have gone wrong, and what we can help prevent in the future. I hope Circle in the Square takes all these stories to heart and steps forward to make necessary changes, for the good of their students, their workplace culture, and the whole industry. The stakes are literally life and death, as can be read in Haley Boswell’s letter and others. And now, my stories: 

*** RACISM: I have regretted a choice I made as a performer while at Circle in the Square Theatre School for some time now. It was 2015, we were preparing for showcase, and me and two other white girls were asked to audition to play the Puerto-Rican character Rosalia opposite our actually Puerto-Rican classmate’s fabulous rendition of Anita in a performance of the song “America”. I got the role, which I never would have considered myself for, and for which I should have never been considered by my teachers. I should have been a real friend to my Latina classmates, and when asked to audition, said no. I should have recommended they cast a Latina student from another class in the part. This did not occur to me, nor did it occur to the other white girls auditioning, nor did it occur to the white teachers casting. Why? We all know why. Racism is a sin that all white people are guilty of: whether the harm caused is intentional or conscious or not, it’s still a sin. 

The year before, I had performed “A Boy Like That” with another white girl. I thought it was fine because it was not a real production of West Side Story, my voice sounded good in the song, and because my teacher said “It’s common for Italian girls to play this part”. But Maria’s story is not mine to tell. Rosalia’s story is not mine to tell. Those are Latina roles. I am not a Latina girl. 

I could call myself and others out on more. As we see, it’s really easy to find ways to justify making decisions outside of a place of moral integrity and at the expense of other people when it benefits us or our “artistic freedom”. Our choices made in free will are our own, and we are ultimately the ones responsible for those choices and the consequences of those choices. However, I do believe that some teachers at CITS encouraged behaving outside of a place of personal integrity for the sake of artistic “bravery”, or “truth telling”, and that students often suffer/ed emotional and physical pain as a consequence of this. I also believe teachers sometimes pushed not only boundaries of artistic growth, but students’ personal boundaries of moral integrity, which is not their job. 

MISOGYNY/SEXUAL MISCONDUCT: One time, my male teacher in his mid-fifties called me, a then high-school-age girl, a “bitch” in front of my whole class, in order to try to get a reaction out of me. I never let a man call me a bitch so I handled that myself, but it really was not okay. That same teacher also told a classmate of mine to “rub her cunt” on a bed in excitement during a scene. So rude, and beyond inappropriate. 

PHYSICAL VIOLENCE: Another example: A girl, overcome with her “in-character” rage, spontaneously threw me against a wall by my arm during a scene in our first month of school. We never rehearsed this moment, or even talked about it before it happened. She could have broken my arm, which pissed me off. Instead of reprimanding her for her unsafe behavior, the teacher told me to “use my anger” to fuel the scene. NOT all of the teachers encouraged this, as “safety first” was clearly shown to be a top priority in many of our classes. But if that kind of behavior happened during a rehearsal on a professional contract, the actor would immediately get fired. It was the teacher’s duty to correct the student who stepped out of bounds, as she was paying him to be her guide in this professional musical theatre program. He did nothing to correct her behavior. 

SEXUAL MISCONDUCT: I was also assaulted in Room 114 on campus by a male classmate. We were rehearsing a sexually charged scene, and in the scene, I had to straddle him on a chair. Behind the closed door of the rehearsal room, he told me that he was “so committed to getting into [his] character”, that us having penetrative sex on the floor of 114 would not be “going too far” in his mind. I told him he was wrong about that, and that I would never ever do anything sexual with him in real life, and he needed to understand that. We began the rehearsal, and we were kissing in character. I was on his lap, and he sexually assaulted me. 

Betrayed and in shock, I ended the rehearsal shortly after and then had to go to another class. I had to go to work after that, which got out around midnight, and then I had class again the next morning, etc. Nonstop CITS schedule, ya know? So I never really had time to process this as an assault. I did the scene with him in front of our class because it was on the schedule and it was too late to put something else up, and frankly, I did not feel I had the emotional headspace or time to deal with it. He behaved himself in front of the class. Because of this assault, I now refuse to rehearse intimate scenes with acting partners without a third party present. An Intimacy Coordinator or an Intimate Scenes elective class with trained professional Intimacy Coordinators would be a really good thing to incorporate at CITS. Of course, my assault is not the fault of the institution, it is only my classmate’s fault. But I believe he really felt his actions were justified because he was “so committed to getting into [his] character”, at all costs. 

I have faith that people on the faculty and staff would have believed my story and tried to help me if I reported it. I did not report it. I wish there had been a mental health counselor on campus. This would be a person I would have felt comfortable making an appointment with to discuss this upsetting encounter with, and discuss whether or not I wanted to seek retribution toward my classmate, and it all would have been completely confidential. 

I remember crying from stress during a class, and my teacher telling me that students from Circle in the Square had a reputation in the industry of being “emotionally damaged”. That says more about the institution than the students. Circle is not the only educational or theatrical institution being called forward to undergo crucial changes in its culture. But unlike some of these other schools, I hope Circle actually listens to the stories of the alumni and acts on their demands, and can make the essential changes now, which will affect people, the industry, and therefore the world in a positive way.

Best,

Abbeyrose Garner
Class of 2015 

Twenty-One

The trauma I experienced at this institution nearly cost me my love of theatre, and for my own mental health I took a year off, unsure if I could continue acting. Thankfully, despite Circle, I was able to find my love again.

At every level, Circle is plagued with problems. Instructors endorse physical and mental abuse for the sake of "truth telling." Women especially were repeatedly forced to detail or act out intimate sexual experiences in front of the teachers and entire class and repeatedly coerced into doing so even if she said "no" again and again. Circle lives in the 1950's, idolizing abusive white male actors and encouraging these white males in the institution to abuse others around them because other "great" actors did so.

I am mixed race and was told repeatedly that I didn't count as Latina. I was told I did not have a fiery temperament and many other disgusting stereotypes and racists remarks against Latinx people by staff and students alike.

I can think of only two plays on the approved scene list that had characters of color, and white students were allowed to act in those scenes. There was no discussion of whitewashing or why it is not okay for white students to pretend to be another race. When two students were doing Motherf*ucker With a Hat, the woman was told she had to act like a Latina, and to "pretend you just got your nails done," followed by the teacher acting out a gross stereotype.Students whose second language is English are harassed and belittled by the staff. I did not personally experience it but was disgusted and appalled by what I saw, especially as somebody whose family's second language is English.

Mid-Atlantic accent teachings are not only racist in ideology and held over from an antiquated past, but also minimize students from other places and cultures and do not adequately prepare students for accent work in the second year. Moreover, I did not ever see one student who adequately mastered the accent in any event, and the class proved to be a waste of time for the most part.

This institution either needs to change or shut down, as it is abusive and racist and damaging to its students. It needs fundamental change from the inside out or should no longer continue.I graduated from Circle, but I do not consider myself an alumni because of the abuse I suffered and the ongoing trauma. I do not think I will ever recover from the experiences I faced at that place, and it is not because I am weak or not meant to be an actor. I am a strong Latinx woman and actress, despite how Circle tried to pull me down and abuse me. I will never forgive that place for what it did to me and others. Personally, I would like to see it gone forever, but I hope for the sake of others it can change its way, though I very much doubt it can.

— Anonymous

Nineteen

I am Latino, born and raised in Chile. So are my parents and their parents. I speak with an accent which I’m working on, but my skin is light. I pass for white until I open my mouth. I don’t actually know if I’m white or a person of color. Or both. Or none. I’ve done my best to educate myself about race dynamics in this country, but they still confuse me.

I’m not what people expect when they think of a Latino. I don’t fit into any of the stereotypes. I look more like a computer geek than a Latin lover, a drug dealer or a guerrilla member. As such, I put some of the teachers at Circle in an odd place. I was uncomfortable to cast. Especially in the world of musical theatre, which, though evolving, is rampant with stereotypes. Our teachers struggled to find any material that would be ‘suitable’ for me.

I was told that songs like “Brother, can you spare a dime?” were too weird on me. Too weird for someone who wasn’t American. Of course, meaning that’s too weird for someone who didn’t sound American. For our industry night scene selection process one of the only ideas that the faculty could come up with for me was to play the Nuyorican felon from “Jesus Hopped the A Train” while one of our teachers gracefully volunteered to struggle through Hispanic plays to see if he could think of another solution. I know I don’t sound ‘General American’, but I for sure don’t sound Nuyorican either.

I’m not stupid. I know that if I worked harder to neutralize my accent a lot of doors would open for me. I do put a lot of the blame on me. I know that school is supposed to prepare us for the real world and in the real world, unless there’s a very specific reason for it, characters don’t have accents. But I also can’t help but think that that is pandering to an industry that decided there is a right way of speaking and the rest are anomalies that need an explanation.

In a country that’s made of immigrants from every country and generation, where there are more dialects than stars and stripes on its flag, why is there one way of speaking that we have deemed as neutral, acceptable and normal? If art imitates life, why have we left this beautiful diversity of sounds outside our art to abide by some sense of false normalcy?

Some members of the faculty are definitely unprepared to deal with students of diverse backgrounds, both because they don’t know diverse material and because their old-fashioned eyes don’t see diverse people in traditionally white all-American roles. But they do follow the industry’s lead.

I believe that it is the responsibility of institutions such as Circle to make a dent in this industry vice that as artists we should be neutralized and tell neutral stories. Especially when ‘neutral’ is so often code for ‘white.’

Circle in the Square Theatre School is a wonderful and terrifying place. I’m incredibly grateful for all the lessons learned and the time I spent with some incredible teachers and professionals. But as an institution it needs to move forward into this century in order to survive and thrive.

— Anonymous

Eighteen

I’m a proud Latina, but my lighter skin color and upbringing in white suburbia has allowed me to not personally experience outright instances of racism at Circle. However, I sure witnessed quite a few- along with many micro-aggressions that made me uncomfortable to my core. These little things can add up quickly, and in a learning environment they can sink into your subconscious in an extremely harmful way. “Because you look like this, you can only do this.” “Because you don’t look like that, you will never realistically perform that- but it’s great to explore while you’re in school!” “Explore what I want you to explore and get rid of all of your regionalisms and cultural-isms because that’s not the truth.” While these things weren’t always said out loud, we heard them loud and clear.

It’s evident that there were some troubling events that took place at Circle in the Square Theatre School, but as you read my letter and the letters of my colleagues, please know that we write this with so much love and care. We truly want to see Circle succeed and we want to leave our school better than we found it for future students. Please keep that in mind.

Coming to Circle, I was excited to work on scenes featuring BIPOC because there actually were BIPOC in my class! Granted there weren’t that many, but there were way more than I usually had to work with. Unfortunately, because our class wasn’t the most diverse, we couldn’t always perform BIPOC scenes together that reflected both of our own cultures. Even though there were 3-4 scenes that featured only Black characters, my friend was unable to explore any of them as there were no other Black students in our class to work on those scenes with. Instead, they had to try to consolidate their experience and explore, for example, a Jewish persons struggle in a scene from the musical Parade.

It’s easy to say, we just didn’t get that diverse of a pool of students this year. It’s harder to say, we did not promote or make our auditioning process more accessible for BIPOC. In order to truly diversify and broaden incoming classes, Circle needs to do the work by trying to be more inclusive and reaching out to more high schools and colleges with predominantly BIPOC students and holding auditions in more locations- as not everyone has the means to travel to New York or Chicago to audition in person. They need to continue to do this work by making attending Circle feasible to these students, and then they can further continue by hiring more BIPOC faculty and staff to help lead and teach these incoming students. 

In our second year European Scene Study, students get to explore scenes on Alan Langdon’s list written by non-contemporary European playwrights. I took it and ran, using the time I was given to explore the Spanish poet and playwright Lorca’s work as much as I could. I adored that part of my scene study class, but it was cut short so that we could spend the majority of our time working on Russian playwright Chekhov’s work. While there is something to be learned from Chekhov, I felt left out. 

I can come with my bags full and do the work and delve into my character, but because there is such a sense of realism attached to Chekhov, any color blind or color conscious casting of his plays is an extremely rare find. Instead of focusing the curriculum so heavily on a Eurocentric style that only a few students can realistically pursue after leaving Circle, why not give students the option to continue to explore different types of classical scene study that embrace many different styles and cultures and provide them with even more plays to let them do so! As a learning institution, Circle must do its part by broadening its white washed library and curriculum and include more BIPOC plays and options for their students.

 What was more concerning and problematic was how often I had to watch my white classmates take up even more space than they were already given by working on BIPOC characters. Sometimes the only way I could explore my Latinx culture was to work with a white male student, as there were no Latinos in my class, and I couldn’t always partner with the only BIPOC male. I also remember a white boy trying to play Puerto Rican in Jesus Hopped the A Train so another WOC could explore her truth. He was encouraged to do a “jive walk” to get more in touch with being a thug (and yes, it was as hilarious to watch as you think it would be). There was also that time a white girl and Latinx girl were encouraged to do a musical theatre scene from The Color Purple. I’m sure we can all agree that, besides being incredibly offensive, no one wants to see that. Luckily it was so late in the year, that it didn’t come to fruition- but it should be noted that Alan Langdon suggested and encouraged the girls to work on this scene.

The worst of the worst I witnessed in Alan’s class was a scene that started out with so many problems, it really could’ve only gone downhill from there. It was a Male/Female scene called The Respectful Prostitute between a prostitute and a racist, misogynistic white male supremacist in the Jim Crow era. One of the Black students said that this scene made them uncomfortable, as the N word was used and Black people were spoken of in an extremely derogatory manner and asked that they work on another scene (they had so many other scenes to choose from).

The two white students decided to ignore his request and do the scene anyway. Alan Langdon also refused to stand with his Black student and allowed the scene to go on. That student left the class as they felt it would be too traumatic for them to sit through. Little did we know, it would be the most traumatic scene we all would sit through in our two years at Circle.

The scene called for stage combat and it was evident that the actors were not utilizing the technique to slow down movements and maintain eye contact we’d been learning for the last year and a half in our stage combat class. Students watching were triggered from the actions and words spoken in the scene, and even as there were audible tears and clear distress from students, Alan Langdon allowed the scene to continue. A couple female students- trying to be polite, of course, endured the entire scene and ran out as soon as it ended. And when confronted about it, Alan Langdon stood by his decision and told the actors they must have done some really good work to bring about such a reaction.

The environment was not safe from the get-go, as a student felt compelled to leave before the scene started due to its racist nature. We were worried for the safety of the female actress in the scene, and the material’s abuse was so strong it triggered many, if not all, of the female students. All this for a scene whose subject matter was not integral to our scene study and could have easily been explored in a variety of safer M/F scenes.

Though the actors apologized for triggering students watching, they, along with Alan, did not apologize for doing the scene in the first place when a Black student told them it was offensive. When a BIPOC student speaks up about something that makes them uncomfortable, a conversation needs to be had where that BIPOC feels seen and heard and a BIPOC faculty or admin must be present to help facilitate that conversation. Alan Langdon must also be held accountable for creating a safe environment for all his students to work and explore in.

I’ve also seen students told by many different teachers that they would never play a character of color because they had an accent and the Americanized character doesn’t. I’ve seen teachers tell students that they would never work until they lost their accent and held that over their heads as a term of entry into the elusive second year. I’ve seen a teacher accuse a student of being lazy and not doing the work- even though they did more work than any of us considering English was not their first language- and this accusation was based on the fact that the student was Asian. As a class we came together to tell the teacher (who is no longer at the school) that they were wrong to assume that the student’s unpreparedness had anything to do with them being Asian. They simply had an off day- something that was constantly looked over for the white male students in our class. It was atrocious.

The most consistent display of racism of any teacher at Circle in the Square, however, comes from Beth Falcone. So many horror stories can be said of Beth, but the worst I witnessed was when she tried to teach our class to do an exercise and, in order to find the right pronunciation, we were told to do it like an Asian person would. She then proceeded to show us what she meant by doing the most offensive, stereotypical and cartoonish impersonation I’ve ever seen. She did this in front of her Asian TA and Asian students with absolutely no shame, and then went on to justify it after seeing the shocked looks on her students faces. Of course, Beth Falcone being unprofessional is something most students and alumni will tell you. I disagreed with how she was unfairly withholding opportunities from me along with other students and when I spoke out to the faculty and administration and got them to support me that she was wrong, her childish reaction led to her telling me she would blacklist me in the industry. What kind of teacher and mentor would not only keep their students from every opportunity available, but then go so low as to threaten their students which they claim to love and care so much for? Beth Falcone would.

Every year students have spoken to our Executive Director, Colin O’Leary in regard to certain staff members and classes that need to be updated. Beth’s outright unprofessionalism, our first years’ time warp of a speech class which focuses on mid-Atlantic and alienates any student with an accent, and Alexander Technique, where we leave not really knowing what we were supposed to have learned. Please take the time to acknowledge what your alumni and students are asking of you to promote a safe and competitive learning atmosphere for future students.

With Love,

Brittany Rincon
Class of 2019

Seventeen

To whom it may concern, 

I’m that one person who dropped out two years in a row within the first month. I wish I could put into words the amount of shame and self-loathing that particular narrative brought me until I was able to work it the hell out in therapy. The feeling when you get a second chance and then screw it up for yourself once again. I mean, I made the big move to the big city. Told all my friends that I was going to achieve my dreams at a Broadway affiliated conservatory, hosted two going away parties in my hometown only for these people to see on Facebook two months later, “Oh hey guys, I’m back in Texas… again.”

Yeah. That’s a set up for a lot of inner shame, right? Hmmmm…. I would have to agree based on that information alone but I think we should explore the HELLSTORM that is the tiny basement below the prestigious Broadway stage.

My first attempt at Circle in the Square

I was absolutely elated to be accepted into the musical theatre program. I moved away from my hometown in Texas only two weeks prior to acclimate to the fast-paced culture that is New York City. I'd experienced chronic depression since I was 18 but it was in check, I was in a good head space.

After the first few days of classes, I left school each day feeling a new level of fatigue that can be best described as feeling as though I had been hit by a bus. I mean, back to back classes with no lunch break kind of shocked me but hey, if you can’t hang, you can’t hang. “Only the brightest and most dedicated will survive! Only the most talented!” This lie is fed to you from day one. I remember Whitney Kaufman dishing this out during orientation.

I began to question my talent, efficacy as an adult, and dedication.

I attempted suicide in my tiny apartment in Washington Heights three weeks into school and dropped out.

My second attempt at Circle in the Square

I was contacted by E. Colin O’Leary and offered a second chance. I took it without hesitation. Afterall, it was all my fault for being such a shitty person who clearly wasn’t dedicated or talented enough to succeed in my first try. I am so lucky!

This was the year I faced physical abuse, teachers enabling my eating disorder, and gaslighting (Alan Langdon).

My previous classmates who were now in their second year greeted me with open arms and concern for my previous incident. I felt loved and welcomed by them.

One of my classmates had calculated the fact that year one consisted of 61hrs a week… 61hrs a week… no lunch breaks.

Incident One

Alan Langdon is known to be cold, distant, condescending, etc.…. BUT ALL IN THE NAME OF ART! Bullshit. I wanted so badly to be liked by him. We did the Harold Pinter crap again, I slept with that script, read it on the train, and clutched it to my chest between classes. I just couldn’t memorize it. My entire class performed their scene and none of us recited it perfectly.

Alan went on a tangent about how we were clearly not dedicated or capable enough. His son memorized a five minute monologue in one night in order to play a role in a regional musical… How disappointing we all were.

This is how I felt in every one of his sessions. Inadequate, untalented, and clearly not intelligent enough to be as GREAT as one of his favorite cis-white male students. How the hell am I supposed to feel safe around him?

Incident Two (CW: EATING DISORDER)

This was the year I dropped out due to my eating disorder. I had several staff members commenting on my body because I’d lost weight.

This would be a good time to remind you: 61hrs/week, NO LUNCH BREAKS

I was in speech class, recording my list of words. On my way out, Elizabeth Loughran grabbed my arm. “You look wonderful. Whatever you’re doing…” massive pause “It’s working.” I ham it up and say “omg, I discovered working out!”

Little did she know that I was walking from 51st street to my 106th st apartment each day and taking advantage of the lack of lunch breaks.

I’ll leave this to you to realize how incredibly problematic this is. She’d seen me a year prior but now that I’m in a smaller body, “I look wonderful.”

Incident Three (CW: Sexual/Physical Abuse)

Workshop was a class that was added between my 1st and 2nd try. We were told that we would have working actors who are active in the industry to guide us through scene work. Kevin McGuire was the prestigious white cis-male guest who graced our presence the first semester. E. Colin O’Leary and Whitney Kaufman helped us select two person scenes from specific plays. I initially chose You and I which features important discussions about race and ableism. I paired up with a Latinx classmate and we were excited to get started. Colin told us we couldn’t do this scene. No reason given. Whitney piped up saying we should instead do 27 Wagons Full of Cotton by Tennessee Williams. I would like to point out that this scene features a POC victimizing a white woman.

In rehearsals, I skipped over the “N” word. As a white person, it is not my word to say. I was called out by Whitney and asked to repeat the word over and over until I felt comfortable with it.

I was later told how shocked my classmates were. I was shocked as well.

This scene alludes to rape. Having been raped the previous year and not having any other option but to do this scene, I was internally freaking out and my performance in front of Kevin McGuire showed it.

“You’re like a… fake actor.” Kevin said after we finished the emotionally exhausting scene.

“You need to be rougher with her.” Kevin then told my kindhearted scene partner, “She’s larger than you and you need to assert your aggression. Don’t give her the choice to overtake you.”

We ran the scene again. Kevin instructed my scene partner to grip me harder… and harder… and harder. I physically felt as though I needed to be smaller and smaller and smaller in order to portray this dainty woman that I clearly wasn’t portraying being the LARGER scene partner. I left that class with bruises on my wrist from my scene partner being pressured into literally abusing me. Since I was such a fake actor and all, I guess it was worth it.

(Edit: I don’t actually believe it was worth it.)

Conclusion

I am grateful to my mother who called and told me to get help in my second year after seeing a picture on instagram where my eyes were sunken in and my face hollow. Here, I thought I looked “wonderful.” Why was someone thousands of miles away the first one to say anything?Is this the kind of place we’re supposed to feel safe? I have to acknowledge, I would not have gotten a second chance to attend if I weren’t white and straight passing.

I have nightmares to this day of my experience in New York City. I felt sick the last time I visited because of the mindset I was put in with 61 hrs/week and no lunch breaks and I only attended a month total.

I have been in recovery from my eating disorder since I dropped out my second time. I remember sending an email to Colin about my decision to leave again. I never received a response… I would have died had I been one of the “dedicated and talented” students.

Guess what, Circle. I AM in fact dedicated and talented. It’s actually YOUR program that is not a reasonable or a humane way of training some of the brightest actors that you’ve had the PLEASURE to see walk through your doors.

Sincerely,
Haley Boswell ‘20

Sixteen

My time at Circle in the Square was brief. However, one thing that I definitely noticed during my time there was the lack of inclusivity. The majority of the students in both the musical theater and the regular acting programs were predominantly white. It seemed like they only accepted some black actors and other actors of color to add to the diversity quota, especially because most of the work that we were able to do in our scene study class was predominantly work from white playwrights. As an actor of the Latinx community, I was extremely disappointed and offended that the only piece of work that represented us from that play list was The Motherfucker with the Hat. A lot of that had to do with the fact the majority of the staff members were white, and that only allowed one narrative to be heard. That was a huge disconnect for me. 

I felt like there was a mark that was being missed and it seems like Circle just didn’t care due to their pure ignorance. They were not aware enough to go out of their way in adding diversified material. It should not be solely the students’ job to bring in material that we feel represents ourselves. It is extremely important for the staff to be well-versed. This is especially true because we are paying a lot of money to attend and learn at this school. Additionally, regarding the price of your school, it became apparent that the only people who were able to afford to go to your school were the white and privileged. And you saw it all in the halls. I felt like our individuality was not being nurtured and appreciated. It felt like we had to “beat it out” of us and conform to this neutralized, presentational way of performing. And in a school that is in the heart of New York City, where there are so many people from different cultures, it definitely seems like your school only caters to one walk of life. The white life.

— Anonymous

Fifteen

In conversation with the comedian Dave Chappelle, Dr. Maya Angelou spoke to him on how to handle anger- “You must not be bitter… Let me show you why—bitterness is like cancer; it eats upon the host. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure.” So, in following the words of the great Maya Angelou, I have decided to not be bitter and focus on the facts about my time at Circle in the Square Theatre School.

I only recently learned about the term “token friends,” a superficial effort of diversity or inclusion with a member of a minority group. A dear friend and I went Upstate to support friends in a show, he joked about the two of us being the only token people in this neighborhood, it was then that I learned what tokenism meant. When I first came to Circle it took me a long while to find my community in a group of people with life and cultural backgrounds so different from mine. In my second week at the school I was betrayed by a fellow peer, an experience which I confided to another classmate the day after. I then began to open up to this classmate. One day she eagerly came up to me in the Circle bathroom and asked me to take a selfie with her to send to her mom. Upon taking the photo she excitedly said, “My mom will not believe that I have an Asian friend!” I was surprised by her comment, “diversity” and “cultural melting pot” are the words taught to us about the U.S. I stayed in the frame thinking she wanted more selfies, however, she then said to me “Nah, this one’s just for me.” Gone was my empathy for her :)

 “… So, use that anger, yes. You write it, you paint it, you dance it, you march it, you vote it. Everything. You talk it. Never stop talking it.” 

During a private lesson my singing technique teacher corrected my pronunciation. We were working on a song from Aladdin entitled “Call Me A Princess”. In the song there’s a line that states: Life’s much too short, and Lord, it’s so taxing ruling these darn third world nations. 

Although the lyrics are problematic, it is not the focus of my experience. 

The following are my teacher’s comments transcribed from my in-class recording:

“‘Ruling these darn third world nations’ you’re gonna have to work that really hard. You must sound like an out-and-out American in this. I hate to say it, it’s so politically incorrect, but if you sound like you’re from a third world nation, it’s not as funny. I mean it’s like, you know, like if you have any accent whatsoever UNLESS it was British-- (She then attempts to sing the line with a dramatic British accent)—that would work! But Asian is not gonna work—even though you’re obviously China and not a third world nation—but, you know what I’m saying? I fo- I forget where you’re from actually-”

I told her where I was from.

“SO, it’s obviously not (a third world nation). But it’s how stupid Americans would think of it. They’re pretty dumb.”

The fact is, I love learning languages, and I love when people correct my mispronunciations or grammar. Therefore, although taken aback, I tried to find possible justifications as to why she would say what she said: I’m a beginner in this profession. She knows the industry better, but that was it. Her reasoning was irrelevant to her comments about a third world nation as well as Asia. I then thought about her exclusion of the British accent as “any accent whatsoever” and found that to be an odd response since the story took place in a fictional land in the Middle East (Agrabah). How could a British or American accent work in this narrative?              

The fact is, a responsible teacher who truly wants to help their students, would. At the very least, they would remember their students’ names and country of origin. 12 months of working together in a basement is more than enough time for anyone to learn these basic facts. This teacher has wonderful teaching methods but is irresponsible with her words in relation to race and politics. I felt patronized. Her ignorance caused me to doubt my abilities as an actor, singer, and English language learner. This should never happen inside the classroom. We may have laughed about it and moved on but, it doesn’t mean I won’t carry that experience with me. Accusing Americans of being dumb doesn’t justify her actions.

— Anonymous

Twelve

“I believe we could paint a better world if we learned how to see it from all perspectives, as many perspectives as we possibly could. Because diversity is strength. Difference is a teacher. Fear difference, you learn nothing.”

— Hannah Gadsby

Racism, prejudice, misogyny, ableism and favoritism are core values at Circle in the Square Theater School. They have done little to amend their wrongs since my time studying there. Their curriculum hasn’t changed. The administration and faculty is still predominantly White. The statements they made since the murders of Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and George Floyd are nothing but virtue signaling. They have not reached out to their BIPOC alumni. They have not sent out emails making a statement. They have not answered valid questions alumni posed on their social media. They have not opened their lobby to protestors. They have not provided any course of action on how they will change internally. If they won’t speak, we will. 

I’m Latinx. To provide more context, I’m White-passing, but I moved to the United States when I was 21-years-old. So I have an accent. Before beginning my education at Circle in the Square Theater School, I attended another conservatory in New York City. This first institution was attended majorly by international students. Even though the faculty of the school wasn’t the most diverse, they still had BIPOC and immigrant instructors, including the teaching assistants. It was easy to feel heard. This was a complete contrast to my experience at Circle in the Square.

After graduating from that first conservatory, I decided to invest in more vocal and physical training. Circle in the Square’s seemed to have a compelling curriculum that fit my needs. It would quickly prove it was not. On the first day of orientation, the class size was around 35, 14 POCs in the room total, but only 4 people in the program had an accent. Immediately we stood out. Soon afterward, a second-year student’s first piece of advice to me was “You gotta get rid of the accent, or you’re out”.

It’s important to notice that my accent when arriving at Circle wasn’t thick. I may mispronounce words, my cadence is not the most American, and I make some grammatical mistakes, but I do not lack knowledge of English. I have multiple certifications that prove my fluency and my capacity of studying in this language. Yet somehow the faculty had judgements that if any bilingual person in the school was having issues with the work, it was due to their miscomprehension of English — that they didn’t have the sufficient knowledge to ‘act’ in a different language. They don’t understand how bilingual brains work, because the majority of the faculty do not speak a second language fluently.

In my first year, the teaching assistant of Voice once told me that she was jealous of my ‘complexion’ because it read as very Hispanic That same teacher once complained about not getting a job because they did a “diversity” hire. I witnessed our Voice teacher confusing two Black students from different classes all the time. I witnessed a guest speaker call my Asian classmate ‘Cookie’ because her first name was hard to pronounce. My Ghanaian classmate had to constantly correct people on how to pronounce her name, even if she had previously corrected them several times. Beth Falcone used police brutality to try and get a Black student emotional. BIPOC students weren’t supported in any of these instances.

Even the school curriculum was designed to fail BIPOC students. Our choices for Scene Study class were limited to 40 American playwrights, of which only 3 were Black. No Indigenous, Asian American, or Latinx playwrights. Speech class was also inadequately structured; it did little to support students whose native tongue is not English. I knew I had to focus on this class, and when I asked the teacher to help me determine the specific sounds I mispronounced, she told me that it would require a private consultation.

To top off the end of my first year, there were the evaluations. These evaluations would be read to you by the school principal. My Shakespeare teacher said, ‘She can do OK work in the classical, but the text usage feels shallow. She needs much speech work, language work to continue. Those issues: speech, language are things she must get preparation work’. I won’t even address the grammar used, but he wasn’t the only one to mention my language “issues”. It’s important to have good diction in theater, but that wasn’t the problem they were pointing out. They could understand me; they just couldn’t understand why I failed to sound American. I left that evaluation feeling like I was illiterate.

I asked whether I was moving on to the second year, to which the principal replied yes. In the summer, I awaited for the promised second-ear contract and start date. I didn’t find out until August 9th that year that they had sent out the contracts for the second year on July 5th and I ONLY found out about it through my classmates. I emailed the school telling them that I had not received a contract. The reply was that I had to update the principal. Update him on what? Apparently I had misunderstood my conversation, and over the summer I was supposed to have been taking extra speech classes and Shakespeare workshops. I had to prove I deserved to be in this final year. This happened to my other classmates that had an accent, too. My Asian classmate was the only one they told in the evaluations. She paid hundreds of dollars for Speech lessons. With more than a month behind on school work, how did Circle in the Square think we could succeed in our second year?

The promise of the second year is the final Theater Festival and Scene Showcase, a night where agents are invited to see the student’s work. They prep you for almost 5 months for these two minutes on stage. My private chat with my Scene Study teacher was reduced to not playing a White American. I was recommended the same playwright as usual, Stephen Adly Guirgis, as well as a play by Ariel Dorfman, the only Latinx playwright ever mentioned in the curriculum. However, my scene got consolidated a month before the showcase, and the faculty chose for me. I was made to play a White American woman. When trying to speak up for myself, saying that this story didn’t serve me, a teacher told me ‘It’s not about you playing an American. It has to do with you being White’. I gave up. I understood then that the faculty would never understand the complexity of my background.

I made cuts for the scene. In the play, the woman is in one of the first public interracial relationships. In the scene we were assigned, she says the n-word in the middle of an argument. I spoke to my Black scene partner and told him I didn’t want to say it and that the scene worked without the use of it. He agreed. Whitney Kaufman and my Scene Study teacher objected about me cutting out that word from the scene. I expressed that I felt highly uncomfortable with saying that word. It went as far as Whitney Kaufman trying to prove the potency of this word by reading the scene out loud in front of my classmates. The reason why they insisted on me using that word was to exploit my Black scene-partner’s trauma to this word. I objected and we performed the scene without me saying the word. However, the faculty frowned upon us. He still got a call from an agent that night.

Then came the Theater Festival, or “the projects,” as we like to call them. There are usually three projects: a Shakespeare play, a modern play, and a musical. Our Dance teacher, the head of the musical, told us that she would have two casts, so that everyone could have a strong role. She didn’t allow the women from the non-musical theater program to be in it or even audition for it, but she somehow managed to have more than six of our first-years involved, including two non-musical actors.

Our Scene Study teacher, who was charged with the modern play, took the longest to decide on his project. We were one of the most diverse classes in recent years at Circle in the Square, and of a graduating class of 30, there were only 5 men. The Chekhovian play he chose had a cast of 4 women and 8 men, and we had been working on it all year. Our Scene Study teacher would be inviting men alumni to act in the play and casting other first-years in small roles. My non-musical theater women classmates were left with one show. Our Shakespeare teacher gave the biggest roles to the White women in the program. He gave ONE monologue, in a three-hour long play, to my Asian classmate.

Hispanic is the biggest ethnic minority in America, making up 18.1% of the population. 41 million out of the 52 million Hispanic Americans speak Spanish at home. Yet on Broadway, we only take up 2.5% of the roles. On film, we take up 2.7% of the roles. And I bet not even 1% involves Latinxs with accents. Where are our stories? In New York City alone, Hispanics are 29.1% of the population. How is an institution situated in this city not prepared to receive this population? My family history is one of immigrants.How can I tell their story if it’s not through broken English and mispronunciations? I paid an institution to teach me how to be a better actor, not how to sound more American or how to hide my ethnicity to accommodate White people.

Our Scene Study teacher preached that we are all great actors — that the only things holding us back are fear, shame, and ignorance. I used to believe ignorance referred to our own, but the ignorance of others is even more inhibiting. Circle in the Square proved to me that it didn’t know what to do with me, and that would have been OK if they had admitted their ignorance. They could have educated themselves. Instead, they blamed it on me. They blamed me for not being the sassy sexy Latina stereotype. They blamed me for not sounding White. They blamed me for being both too White yet not White enough. For an institution that is meant to be a place of learning, the faculty was very resistant to doing so. Instead of them getting informed, listening to their students of color, they blamed us for being different.

— Anonymous

Eleven

Dear Circle in the Square, 

While I credit you as marking the beginning of my actor’s journey, the road was less than smooth, one that had to be navigated carefully as a person of color, all while trying to remain open and pliable in becoming an artist. As an Asian American (& one of the very few at the entire school), I have encountered a few racist and prejudiced instances committed by your all-white faculty that may not have appeared on the radar to a White observer, but that does not make it any less true or damaging. I will name 3 instances that have stayed with me for over the past 15 years since I was a student there. 

During class, an acting teacher had given me as an acting note, that I had an “inscrutable face”, which is a racial slur made to Asian Americans, that we are indistinguishable from one another and our faces “naturally” have no expression of emotion. Stunned, I told her that it was wrong for her to say that to me. She dismissed me and said I should just receive her note. 

I was told by a singing technique teacher during class that I should have songs from Miss Saigon, Flower Drum Song, and Marcy Park from The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee in my audition songbook, even though my range and vocal quality in no way resembles those songs. When I countered with the argument that upon walking in the audition room, it would be clear to the room that I was of Asian descent and so not necessary to limit myself to these songs. The teacher dismissed me and said she knew better than I did about such matters. 

Another racial landmine was when I was told by one of the physical acting teachers that she “did not see color”, which we now know is a horrible & inaccurate justification for insisting upon one’s lack of racism, which also dismisses my identity, my history, my family’s history, the discrimination that people of color have and will continue to face. This argument also implies that White is considered neutral and the basis for what is “normal” & the status quo. 

These are just a few instances that happened to me to illustrate the hard truth that Circle in the Square is not & has never been equipped to support their students of color, especially ones who are “green” and new to the industry, who perhaps could not adequately protect themselves, and who struggled to sift through what was useful training and what was tainted by the prejudices of their instructors, both during their time there and afterwards in the “real world”. Circle in the Square not only needs to have some kind of Equity, Diversity, & Inclusion training in place for the faculty who are in charge of young emerging artists, but also they are in desperate need of faculty & administrators of color who could be better equipped & aware of the systemic racism in predominantly White institutions and within the faculty themselves. Looking at your current ALL-WHITE full-time faculty, it seems that Circle has still been stuck, even after 15 years, and if it hopes for any kind of sustainable & relevant future, it needs to change.

— Anonymous

Ten

“Blacks have traditionally had to operate in a situation where whites have set themselves up as the custodians of the Black experience.”

— August Wilson

I was a student of color at Circle in the Square Theater School in Manhattan. Actors of color have little to no proper voice, even in the year 2020, and institutions such as Circle in the Square Theater School have long contributed to this. POC will always respond to white voices before that courtesy is reciprocated. So, for once, our voice will be heard.

Circle has no Black instructors, and this is a part of the problem. They do not put up Latinx productions, and this is a part of the problem. They do not represent their Asian students well, and this is a part of the problem. They are Eurocentric, outdated, and stuck in their ways. They know close to nothing about people, culture, or voices, outside of their own. My experience at Circle reflected that. 

Circle’s White majority staff mostly consists of older, stubborn individuals who do not respond to their students at all. They fail to acknowledge change. They fail to acknowledge diversity and progress in the arts, or their own lack thereof. All across the board, teachers have an incredibly limited take on culture, one that is every bit as narrow as the basement they teach in. Their mindset and curriculum is very Eurocentric. In speech class, weeks are spent studying Mid-Atlantic, British, French, and Irish dialects, none of which are useful for Black, Asian or Latinx plays. “Contemporary” scene options in the scene study class are limited to an older White man’s vision of variety; a list of decades-old plays from mostly White playwrights.  While working on a scene in this class, the instructor saw it fit to motivate me with his brand of progress in my work. Shouting the “n” word at me, as if he were revving me up, while explaining his perspective of the play’s significance. In the only way he knew how. Black students invest time and effort into the mere three Black playwrights he deems acceptable, but so do the White students. In fact, a handful of the instructors at Circle openly encourage White students to continue working on Black roles. White actors consistently learn Black roles, because just like in the real world, they can take them.

In a building so White, who is going to tell them how wrong this is? What precedent are we setting for the students who are shaping the future of theatre? Rather than addressing social change head-on, they act against it through uniformed White ignorance. The teachers hardly ever meet with one another; some of them don’t even know each other. There’s no diversity training, no gender training, and there’s no organization in any regard. Their staffing is not adequate, to the point where website updates and proper room space were wishful thinking. 

The final showcase was perhaps the most disappointing part of it all. Students here spend months of their final semester scrapping on scenes that are eventually performed in front of an ever-dwindling number of agents; it was about five, last I checked. Circle’s record of broken promises are about as problematic as its outlook. They are incredibly out of touch as far as why their students aren’t succeeding, or more specifically, what the theater world is asking of them. The acting world needs more diversity, more culture, more change, but Circle seems to think it’s a trend more than anything else. A White instructor once told me that Black actors often land more opportunities because of their skin color. To her, it’s a great time to be Black in the acting world, because White actors have to work extra hard in order to stand out these days. She isn’t alone in this mindset, as most of her colleagues feel that, compared to before, the work truly has been done. Things have, in fact, gotten much better for actors of color, but what is Circle doing to help this? A "Black Lives Matter'' post over a week into nationwide protests? They don’t have diversity in their staff, their productions, nor their mindset. They don’t empower the present culture, and they sure as hell don’t understand what they need to do to empower their students of color. This needs to change. 

Arts institutions have to do far more than token representations, and we cannot rest until that work is truly done. This is not a trend, not as long as students of color are systematically disadvantaged in ways some will never understand. It’s already bad enough that we don’t have the housing opportunities, loan opportunities, or health access as our White counterparts; how is it easier for Black actors, in any way? At its most basic level, we need representation from those that claim to help us: the arts. It is up to institutions We need more Asian actors, more Latinx playwrights, more Black instructors. I hope Circle in the Square can start listening to their students, for once, because we will set the stage for the future. It is the next generation that will produce the next cultural movement, and we will produce true change, rather than holding onto old ways.

Circle in the Square Theater School needs to listen to us, the students of color. They have neglected us and exploited their position for far too long, as an outdated arts organization that has done nothing to advance culture or progress in any meaningful way. They are out of touch, they refuse to grow, and their ignorance is a sickness that capitalizes on us, the students of color. Is there any way for them to move forward? Circle in the Square Theatre School has a long way to go.

— Anonymous

Nine

I had a lot of difficulty putting into words my experience with Circle. I have many fond memories of my time there and I learned a lot, but there were a lot of things that happened that should not have been ignored in the way that they were. In solidarity with my black classmates and everyone else who was affected by Circle’s actions or lack of action, I think it’s important to share my experience as a WOC and foreign student at Circle in the Square.

It was clear from the beginning that they favoured white or white-passing students. I’d see classmates, especially my white male classmates, being let off the hook for behaviour that many of my other classmates were reprimanded and punished for. That is something that I’ve come to expect, but academic institutions do have a responsibility to do their best to uplift every student equally. Of course, to do so perfectly would be difficult but I felt like they didn’t even try. I am very proud of what I achieved as a student and as an actor at the school, but I felt that I needed to work twice as hard for any teacher to take me seriously. 

Resources for BIPOC students are practically non-existent in Circle. The faculty members during my time there were all white, except for one Asian teaching assistant. You could argue that the school is small, but there are many qualified BIPOC theatre practitioners in NYC; please consider hiring them.  Not only that, the administration would constantly talk about how Circle was a professional environment, but when several students complained about the tardiness, unprofessional behaviour, and racist actions of a certain faculty member, they did nothing and that person is still working there. There were very few black playwrights in the school’s library and virtually no Asian works. The school made little effort to diversify the curriculum and shifted the responsibility to the BIPOC students.

Almost all of the roles I played at Circle were written for white, Western women. Not only that, I was mostly typecast in children’s roles. The only time I played a character of Asian descent was as Marcy Park from Spelling Bee, the stereotypical Asian overachiever.  The instructor who assigned me said I was “perfect for the role”. I asked her if I was only given this role because I’m an Asian person.  She just laughed, because we both knew that that was the reason. I later found out that Six Languages was assigned to another Asian alumna, and it seems that this is their default option for Asian female students that they’re unsure how to cast. While Marcy Park is a fun role and I played her to the best of my ability, if they’re going to keep accepting Asian students, they can’t keep using “Marcy Park” as their “go-to” and expect us not to notice.

The reason I chose to go to school in the US was for professional and artistic development, but because of the lack of BIPOC resources and faculty in the school, me and many other students felt like we were on our own after graduation in terms of professional opportunities.  Most of the professional advice I was given was along the lines of “you should audition for Miss Saigon”. Never mind that I wasn’t a musical theatre actor, that Miss Saigon is a white man’s vision of Vietnam with many of the characters being racist stereotypes of Asians, and that the original production notoriously featured an actor in yellow face. For a school that is in the heart of the theatre district of one of the most multicultural cities in the world, to not have any other advice other than that isn’t reassuring.

If you’re going to continue accepting and taking money from BIPOC and international students, at least give them what they’re paying for. Hire more BIPOC instructors and diversify your curriculum. Give your staff anti-discrimination training and hold them accountable for their actions if students bring up valid complaints. Form connections with BIPOC theatre companies and artists and have them come in for seminars and give us advice.  Especially in the midst of a global pandemic, please also give your international students more assistance on procuring health insurance than pointing to a flyer in the office. I’m very fortunate to have family members who work in the medical industry in the US to help me, but many of my classmates were left to figure it out on their own. In such a physically demanding programme where injury is highly probable, you have a responsibility to your students to help them navigate this unfamiliar system, so they aren’t saddled with massive medical debt. This is hardly an exhaustive list of demands, but if you’re going to ask others like me to pay thousands of dollars, uproot our lives, and work ourselves to the bone for our education, please consider putting these ideas into action.

— Anonymous

Eight

To Circle in the Square Theatre School,

I would like to preface this letter by saying that my goal is not to shame or attack any individual. Circle in the Square Theatre School was largely a welcoming environment with staff and faculty who had only the best intentions for their students. However, their awareness of racism within the school and the method in which they dealt with these issues when brought to their attention were disheartening to say the least. They have been confronted by students on multiple occasions, and continuously throughout the years to virtually no effect. With an almost exclusively White faculty and staff, the limitations of self reflection and active improvement are evident, which is where I hope this public statement may serve as a more immediate call for action.

These are incidents of racism that I have experienced and witnessed while attending Circle in the Square Theatre School. Everyone addressed is anonymous, and I have actively made an effort to refrain from personal opinions and emotions.

During a lesson, a White faculty member instructed our whole class to “loosen our jaws like a Chinese person who doesn’t speak English very well.” They then demonstrated what this looks and sounds like. As they became aware that all students were unwilling to participate, they proceeded to explain that it was excusable because they “had Asian friends” and that they “knew of an Asian-American person who faked an Asian accent for an audition.”

A White faculty member continuously mixed up the names of four Asian students in class for longer than a year. I have also witnessed them confuse the names of two Black students who were in different years. Hurt feelings aside, some of these students questioned if they were receiving the same quality of education as their peers, since the faculty member seemed to have trouble remembering who’s progress was who’s. Once when confronted, the faculty member denied that they had confused the students’ names.

During a lesson, a White faculty member commented that a certain Asian student’s inability to express anger was due to their “culture.” They then proceeded to make statements such as“China is buying all of America’s territory, but one thing they will not be able to take over is America’s culture, America’s expression.” They seemed to imply that an Asian “culture” was something to overcome in order to develop as a better actor. They also knew that this student was not, in fact, Chinese, and yet deemed this opinion of China as an appropriate example. Another instructor who was later informed of this incident agreed that there was some truth to this faculty member’s statement.

In the annual showcase for industry professionals such as agents, managers, casting directors, etc. four Asian students were cast as back dancers in another student’s solo number. No explanation was given about why these four particular students were grouped together. When asked about the reasoning behind this, the question was avoided, and one faculty member joked that it was their “fantasy.” Based on how often they were confused for each other at school, the four students and their classmates were left to question whether this was arranged as an opportunity for the audience to differentiate between the students.

“It is a great time to be a POC right now.”

“Being a minority is ‘in’ these days, and White actors have less opportunities.”

“You probably got a lot of calls because you are a POC.”

but also

“You probably won’t get a lot of calls because you are a POC.”

were all common things that were said quite frequently to POC students by faculty members and White students. Even though they were often intended as encouragement or compliments, these comments grossly minimized any individuality, achievements, personal progress, etc. of POC students while it was more likely to be acknowledged for their White counterparts. Also, although there are visibly more opportunities for POC in theatre in recent years, it is still nowhere close to being equal with opportunities that White artists have, and these comments illustrated an obliviousness to the issues of racism and discrimination still dominating the industry.

In the play readings and children’s shows, that are not part of the curriculum but affiliated with the theatre and organized, produced, directed by Circle faculty or alumni, there is very limited diversity in casting. These productions, that are supposedly opportunities for ALL alumni to perform and hone their skills, are more often than not predominantly cast with White alumni. POC students are disproportionately less likely to be chosen by faculty/alumni.

Again, I would like to reinforce that all the faculty and staff at Circle in the Square Theatre School are respectable and caring. I truly believe that all incidents stated above were not due to anything other than a lack of awareness. They are faculty and staff who are otherwise very vocal about social injustices, who fight inequality, who stay informed and educated about current events, who have conversations about social issues with students, etc. There is so much possibility to grow and evolve on the issue of racism as well. In understanding this, I would like to make these specific demands that I believe may provide some direction: 

1. Hire more POC staff and faculty. Much like how equal representation is important in the media, it is crucial that the students see themselves among educators, feel welcome in the space, are educated by someone who understands their experiences, and can prepare students for the racial nuances and obstacles that exist in the professional world.

2. Hold mandatory anti-racism education sessions that are held by an expert who is POC, for faculty, staff, and students. It is just as relevant and crucial as the sexual harassment seminars that were newly incorporated into the curriculum this past year.

3. Hire a POC counsellor, or appoint a POC faculty/staff to be an official mediator of issues regarding racism between the students and faculty/staff. This authority figure will validate and add power to the voices of POC students, so that the responsibility of resolving these issues will not have to fall entirely onto the shoulders of students (who have paid tuition and signed contracts for an acting conservatory, not an activist group.) 

Although my positive experiences greatly outnumber the negative while I attended Circle, I have come to understand that this does not mean these incidents of racism and microaggressions are cancelled out, or should go by unaddressed. This current climate of unrest, where our country unites to fight for racial equality, is an opportunity for Circle students to finally be heard as well; there will be no better time for our statements to be as noticed, as effective. This is why I write. Please listen to us. Please reflect. Please grow. Please do not take personal offense, and instead take these criticisms as a “professional” institution, in the same manner as how we students were urged to be “professional” actors at school.

— Anonymous

Six

To Whom it May Concern,              

I am writing this letter because I need to bring attention to the racism that the faculty at Circle in The Square Theatre School has towards their students. There have been too many instances where the faculty has demonstrated racist behavior towards their students making it a truly unsafe place for learning. Kevin McGuire, Alan Langdon, Sara Louise Lazarus, Joe Baker and Beth Falcone are teachers who need to be held accountable for their actions. 

Teachers should never tell their students the only roles available to them are terrorist roles. Teachers should not actively allow White students to do scenes that should be played by people of color and they should not allow White students to say the “N” word to play a character they’d otherwise never play. Sara Louise Lazarus has been accused of saying the “N” word towards students, and Joe Baker has made several inappropriate comments about blackface, and other racist remarks towards a Black student. 

It took me a while to realize what was actually going on and I now realize it was just racism. It is hypocritical of Circle in The Square Theatre School to make posts about Black lives solely for propaganda, when time and time again their faculty has shown that the safety of their students is not a concern. As a former student of Circle in The Square Theatre School, I can assure you that I will never recommend this school to anyone. The teachers I have listed must be fired, in order to ensure the safety of the students. Due to their overt racism, they’ve proven that they were never fit to be teachers.

— Anonymous

Five

Here is my experience as a student at Circle in the Square Theatre School. 

For those who don’t know me, I am a white-passing Latina. I am extremely proud of my roots and actively celebrate and practice my culture. While my appearance has given way to many identity crises in my life, it has also given me privilege in the ability to be aligned with whiteness both by faculty at the school and the theatre industry in general. Teachers have openly named it an asset to be able to “turn my Latin-ness on and off” and while they meant that in a career context, being a Latina perceived as a White person (initially, at least) afforded me the experience of seeing exactly how I benefited from the system while also being stereotyped by it. 

Possibly the largest offense toward me personally during my time at Circle occurred in a Shakespeare class. Our teacher, Larry Gleason, was speaking to me regarding a text we were reading (I believe it was Measure for Measure). I asked for a clarification, to which his response was, “you probably aren’t getting it because you’re very urban for Shakespeare. You most likely won’t become a Shakespeare actor due to the way you were raised, and that’s perfectly ok.” I won’t even begin to recount how many times I was referred to as “spicy” in various instances. I laughed it off and let myself be stereotyped at times because ignoring it was a better option than attempting to have a conversation about it with an all-white faculty who don’t understand what it’s like to walk in the world questioning their existence based on their skin color or ethnic background, nor did I trust any change to be made from a center of leadership that is widely known to be fearful of making decisions. 

Another enormous problem I want to speak about is the lack of safety. On the first day of my time in the basement, we toured what would be one of our main acting studios. It looked run-down from things that occurred during scene work over the years. Their causes were revisited with pride: multiple patched-up holes that had been punched into walls, brown stains on the ceiling/walls from hot coffee being thrown, set pieces that were cracked or almost broken due to being thrown or toppled or smashed in various ways. The more time I spent at Circle I learned that “the work” was king, and any means necessary of achieving “the work” or a reaction to an actor’s work was accepted. Conversations about safety regarding props, acting choices, and intimacy were rarely had, and certainly not in what was considered our “main” acting class (note: “main” in quotations highlights a large conversation about the faculty conflicts that took a toll on students, which I am happy to talk about at another time). Scene work was allowed to continue regardless of any questionable or dangerous choices made. I watched a male student approach a female student during an exercise and use extremely personal information that she had shared in a previous, out-of-context moment of vulnerability to berate and reduce her to tears. I’ve heard the N-word yelled during class at a Black student during a different exercise. I’ve had multiple metal folding chairs thrown towards my head that, if my reflexes had been just a bit slower, would have hit me in the face. There were countless horrific stories from classes above and below mine that I wasn’t witness to but are equally disturbing. This behavior is not only encouraged, but praised by Circle, and because these methods are so accepted, you’re made to feel inadequate for not participating and in turn feel crazy for just thinking that it may be wrong, which is a form of abuse and gaslighting. 

The reason that things like this happen is because of Circle’s unwillingness to change or evolve in any way. This school was founded in 1961—3 years BEFORE Jim Crow laws were overruled. The school opened in a time where it was legal and socially acceptable to hold whiteness supreme and 59 years later in 2020, Circle’s curriculum still reflects their origins and is run by cisgender white folx—mostly older men—who do not reflect the faces of their students. The vast majority do not currently work in the industry nor seem to have any understanding of what it has evolved to past the 1970s. They don’t seem to even want to familiarize themselves with anything other than what they know. As students we constantly joked about going to school in a time capsule, without realizing the effects it would have on us later. As a woman and as a Latina, I did not feel safe. This environment, so stuck in a dangerous past, became conducive to students directing racist comments at each other such as when a student turned to me while I was eating cut-up watermelon with lunch and saying “wow, what are you, Black?” Or when a Black student was called “colored” by a white student in front of the entire class, and the teacher sat silently watching as WE, the students, educated them on why that was unacceptable. 

One of the main ways that Circle has upheld systemic racism is through their curriculum. In the list of scenes we were allowed to choose from for both in-class work and scene showcase, there were a grand total of 3 plays that were about or reflected Blackness—A Raisin in the Sun, Fences, and Jesus Hopped the A Train. The only scene that reflected Latinx representation was Motherfucker With the Hat. There were 0 plays reflective of API or Indigenous communities. Only 3 were written by women. In a list of 36 total scenes, these 4 were the only ones that BIPOC were represented in. While these are revered works, non-white actors deserve more options to choose from regarding identity than poverty, addiction, and imprisonment. Furthermore, the most current play on our list was published in 2011. This school cannot move forward if they’re not also exploring more recent, relevant works that are actually being published and produced today. It does not prepare its students for work in the current industry; it certainly didn’t prepare me. I’ve spent the last 4 years of my life since graduation trying to build my confidence back up and relearning, because the unhealthy methods of “the work” are rightfully no longer accepted anywhere outside the basement (also, full days without fresh air and sunlight in a worn, dusty basement is not a healthy learning environment). I feel as though I did not grow at all as an actor in anything but my understanding of white works, and upon graduation was unclear how I fit into the theatre industry in relation to anything other than outdated whiteness. I was relieved to find after my first job post-graduation that theatre is teeming with amazing, diverse playwrights and beautiful, nuanced stories. I couldn’t believe that so much time was spent exploring the same handful of plays from the same writers and time periods when the world is filled with playwrights like Karen Zacarías, Lauren Yee, Christina Anderson, Mary Kathryn Nagle, and countless others.

Overall, Circle in the Square Theatre School is a reflection of the broken, outdated, racist Broadway system it resides in. It is an abusive environment that needs to begin transforming immediately. I paid to attend an acting school that barely prepared me for being an actor. We deserve to be treated as relevant, that we belong and that there is a place for us in the theatre—because there is. We’re tired of begging for it, especially from educational spaces such as Circle. We did the work. Will you? 

In solidarity,
Cassandra Lopez
Class of 2016 

Three

This letter was also published on Lebene’s Medium on July 14, 2020.

“Why nobody listen to me? Why? I dream big…so why is making that dream real a problem?”

— Walter, A Raisin in the Sun

America’s main energy source is racism. The recent murders of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Dominique Fells and countless others has caused outrage throughout the nation. Circle in the Square Theatre School is an institution that has made it explicitly clear they do not care about Black lives. On June 1, 2020, Circle chose to demonstrate “solidarity” with their students of colour by posting a Black Lives Matter message regarding George Floyd’s murder. The school had willingly remained silent about Floyd’s murder for almost two weeks choosing instead to promote a white student in a modelling competition. There has not been a message from the Executive Director or President, nor have emails of care and solidarity been sent out to current students and alum, nor has the school made donations or provided links to resources. They didn’t put their BLM post onto the school website, rather, they chose to tokenise their one staff member of colour, showcasing her Instagram post, “Asians for Black lives'' in their Instagram story. They continued to tokenise their student body by posting a video of a Black alum encouraging white people to educate themselves and fight for marginalised communities. Understandably, students came to the post questioning what the purpose of this performative allyship was; we have received no response. This recent display, along with the knowledge of Circle’s habitual exploitation of racial trauma for entertainment has left me with no choice, I must speak up.

I am a Ghanaian American woman, actor and teaching artist. I teach predominantly marginalised communities and it has been the joy of my life to bring the arts to our underserved citizens. In 2015, I decided to get serious about acting as a career and after auditioning, was invited to attend Circle in the Square Theatre School, a two-year acting conservatory. I had dabbled in the dark art of Theatre before, performing in high-school plays before going off to college where I continued to act while pursuing my B.A. However, Circle was different, it was a conservatory. How could I resist attending a school affiliated with a Broadway theatre, and performing on a Broadway stage! I had dreams of grandeur, running hand in hand with my classmates to a choreographed number of “A Brand New Day” from The Wiz. I’ll admit, it was an extravagant daydream, and I could barely hold a tune, but anything is possible when your job is quite literally, to play. 

In theory, Circle was the perfect home for me, their website promised that small classes would provide me with an intimate environment for learning, that I would learn from professors active in the industry, with vouched-for experience, and at the end of the year, I would have acting opportunities in my first and second year for the Festival of Theatre; a series of three to five full length productions for the graduating class. That is, if I survived the ritual of culling the class to only the most dedicated students between first and second year. 

Circle would also afford me with the opportunity to live out a lifelong dream, living in NYC. I spent the ages of 6-17 living in Southern and Western Africa studying at international schools filled with people from every nationality; a worldly environment that celebrated diversity like a United Nations in training. After high school I spent eight years living in Washington State, one of the whitest parts of America. To say that I experienced culture shock would be an understatement. At The Evergreen State College, I was “The Black girl,” a unique experience that taught me how to survive in white spaces. It is for that reason I can say with absolute conviction I have never experienced more racism than in the three years I spent at Circle in the Square Theatre School. 

Circle is disinterested in offering a non-white experience to their students. This was first demonstrated when I received our required reading list, a list that held over 100 American plays and 40 American playwrights, only 3 of whom were Black. In an institution that fails to provide their students with reading material that replicates the rich diversity in which we live, I was forced to perform with what was provided to me in their racist and inequitable curriculum. Once the program began, I was greeted with a barrage of microaggressions from faculty and classmates about “Black actors stealing all the roles from white ones,” and teachers justifying their racist thinking with the explanation that they are “purists,” when it comes to the classics.  These daily reminders that I was inferior while simultaneously appearing as a threat, left me anxious and crying on the phone to my mom a couple months into the program. Historically, Black actors have had limited options in the roles available to us, and have been forced to play stereotypes, side characters, and “magical negro” tropes used to elevate whiteness. Stating that one is a “purist” is coded language for “I don’t want to see a Black person in this role.” We have been denied opportunities and our stories have been ignored or white-washed in favour of whiteness. We are not stealing roles from white actors; we are being provided with more opportunities as our industry breaks away from white idealisms.

I found my first year at Circle to be a struggle. I never felt fully comfortable and the lack of advocacy and support from the majority white staff left me unable to express myself freely. Though I put all my effort towards a successful first year at Circle, I was not invited to second year and instead I was asked to repeat my first year.  My first-year revival was marketed to me as a rare opportunity not often granted to students; it felt like a failure. By way of reasoning, Circle’s Executive Director notified me that my teachers felt they didn’t know who I was, that my college education was “all over the place,” and that I didn’t have enough experience to move up into a second year class. I found these comments strange considering the large number of recent high school graduates in my class. I was also surprised; none of my teachers had previously initiated conversations with me about needing to improve. Why was I only hearing about this now? Although devastated I decided to take their offer. I told myself that this was what I wanted to do professionally, and that Circle was made up of experts in the field. I convinced myself it would be foolish to not trust the institution and their process.

“The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the Black woman. The most neglected person in America is the Black woman.”

— Malcolm X

In 2016 I returned for my second, first year, determined to show my teachers that I was taking this second chance seriously. Initially I had some apprehensions about returning, I feared being judged by new and old classmates. However, I soon found myself as the unofficial representative of our class. Evidently, it was to everyone’s benefit that I had already been in the program. I answered questions, gave advice and set up our class Facebook page, a private safe haven where we could share information and express how we felt away from the prying eyes of the administration. It felt good to be a leader in a place that left me with such doubt the year prior. I also loved my class and cherished the opportunity to FINALLY be part of a diverse group of Black, brown and expatriate students who understood me and shared similar life experiences. However, beyond their initial effort to include a more diverse student body, Circle quickly demonstrated that they had failed to educate themselves on how to be truly anti-racist.

On April 30, 2017, I was racially attacked by Beth Falcone, the resident singing technique teacher at Circle. I had been preparing for our First Year Cabaret, a deliriously exhilarating and nauseating experience that is Circle tradition. By any means, the cabaret is a big deal, because the students in the acting program, -- notorious non-singers--perform solos in front of the entire school. A week before the cabaret--due to Beth’s incessant chatter, terrible scheduling and time management skills--most of the actors were not feeling confident enough to do any semblance of a performance, let alone sing a solo for friends, family and the whole school. Beth’s way of counteracting this was by scheduling small group rehearsals during the weekends. I was given the song “The Man That Got Away,” a marvellous ballad about love lost. Beth did not think that I was bringing enough emotion to the song. She asked me what had upset me the most in my life, where I felt hopeless. The first thing that came to mind was police brutality. She encouraged me to think about that while I sang.

 Between rounds of singing, Beth asked me if she needed to show me images of police brutality. Shocked, I replied “no.” She yelled over the intro “I can’t breathe,” in reference to Eric Garner and elaborated by saying “Yeah, it’s that fucking intense.” At some point she stopped me, and my classmate enthusiastically told me that I was more connected that time. Beth did not share her enthusiasm. She took her phone out and said, “Don’t hate me for this” and proceeded to spend 5 minutes searching for a stock image of a police officer beating up a Black man. As she handed me her phone she said “We’ll see what this one does to you. I hope this one is good enough. Look at it.” Another student in the room asked what it was, and Beth became very stern and scolded me, “Don’t even. Don’t tell anybody about this. Ever. And it’s not funny.” 

“So…you want me to sing to this photo?” 

“Yes, sing to it,” she said.

 We worked through the song and I mentioned how uncomfortable I felt, her response “Yes, that’s how that woman feels,” in reference to the character I was portraying in the song. Had I known my racial trauma would be weaponised against me, I would have chosen anything else. This offensive, and racist experience was not the first I’d had with her.

Two weeks prior, fresh from her trip to Tanzania, Beth had asked me to translate a song from Swahili; I told her I only spoke English and was not from that part of Africa. She in-turn proceeded to tell me this song was a mixture of different dialects and Swahili, so maybe I could translate it. I once again told her that was not possible, to which she replied, “I get it, that’s like trying to understand someone from the South.” The South is a region of the country of the United States of America. In comparison the African continent hosts 54 countries, could comfortably house China, all of Eastern Europe and North America, and there are between 1500-2000 different dialects spoken across the diaspora. To generalise the entire continent of Africa is deplorable for anyone, let alone someone who helped with the music for Broadway’s The Lion King. It is not enough to just show up, we must do the work. Her inability to do this highlights the lack of effort taken on by our industry and school to educate its white artists and teachers, and further proves that our culture, under the white gaze is simply for consumption and profit. 

I reported both incidents to the Executive Director, twice. He told me he agreed that it was offensive, she was probably well-meaning, and he would talk to her. Those were the only times we discussed this situation. The school never followed up with me about the incidents and when I returned for my final year Beth would constantly find excuses not to work with me and send me to work with the TA’s instead. I was never silent about the incidents either, I discussed it with classmates, talked about it in my classes and everyone agreed it was wrong, yet nothing was done. At what point was I supposed to feel safe enough to be vulnerable in this institution?

When I returned for second year, I set my focus on three things; studying Anton Chekhov’s work in European scene study, the Second Year Showcase, and The Festival of Theatre. I was not dying to portray white women for another year but was excited to explore the realism of Chekhov. Second year scene study, our only scene class, is dedicated entirely to European plays; we spend over half of that time studying the works of Anton Chekhov. During my first in-class presentation of Three Sisters I broke down with tears of joy during a personal story before my scene. I expressed how excited I was to be there, and how important it was for me to be able to study this work; I had earned that moment. In spite of whatever failures may have delayed my progression into second year, whatever doubts had been instilled in me I knew I had proven to myself and my teachers that I belonged there. This concept was so overwhelming all I could do was cry. It would be one of the rare moments that year I felt like I belonged. 

It became pretty clear there was no place for me or my fellow BIPOC classmates. we weren’t made to feel like we belonged and that resulted in our second year being a disaster. The administration lacked care for our class and failed to organise themselves in a way that would benefit us. They did not know what to do with us, because they don’t know anything about BlIPOC. We created vision-boards displaying the roles we wanted, the actors we admire, and how our industry might view us. My board was filled with mostly young Black and brown actors and writers I could identify with; Issa Rae, Zoë Kravitz, Mindy Kaling, Lupita Nyong’o, Donald Glover and my queen, Viola Davis. In an industry that is controlled by white supremacy, it’s important actors of colour pave their own way; I chose people who reflected that sentiment. I don’t think my teacher recognised half the people on my board and remained silent for a majority of the meeting. If there was some guidance, I was supposed to receive it didn’t happen. I left that meeting confused and disappointed, an experience that could have been easily avoided if my interests were represented by a POC staff member in the room.

There was no one to advocate for the BIPOC student body and when it came time for placement in the projects, we were faced with a new obstacle-- the competitive nature of our classmates. We were in a race that we could not win. Favouritism was the only way to get the part you wanted; with the exception of musical theatre there was no audition process. Throughout the year it had been communicated there would be four shows. Traditionally those shows would be a European play, Shakespeare, a musical and some other play about white people. Our graduating class was predominantly female, with a majority of the WOC in the acting track. Naturally, the understanding was we’d do female-based projects; our teacher had casually mentioned Euripides’ Trojan Women a female heavy anti-war play, but stated it was still under consideration. When project and casting announcements were made; Trojan Women was no longer an option, we were doing The Seagull, and not a single WOC, or female from the actor track was cast in the show. Shakespeare would have provided limitless casting options in terms of colour and gender; two things students were eager to explore but the school actively shied away from embracing. However, not wanting to repeat the gender bending Shakespeare performance of the year prior, my teacher decided it was best to do Charlotte Delbo’s, Who Will Carry the Word, an all-female show about freedom fighters trying to survive in Auschwitz. Musical theatre was not an option for the actor women that year, and the fourth project mysteriously disappeared. 

During my showcase I was originally slated to perform a scene from Lynn Nottage’s By the Way Meet Vera Stark, an opportunity I was looking forward to after a failed attempt at performing the same scene in class the year prior. At the time I originally attempted to do it in class, my scene partner had not done the research to understand that her character was a white-passing woman, and not in fact just white. I was excited for the re-do but, due to events beyond my control, I had to change my partner and my scene a few days before the audition. Instead of providing me with the opportunity to find a scene that worked for me, I was forced into a scene already in motion with a woman I’d never worked with, been in class with, or seen act before. I was also informed that this was a “better scene.” The scene in question, Wendy Wasserstein’s Isn’t It Romantic. Albeit a great play, it is a play between two white Jewish women. To compensate for my lack of equal parts whiteness and Judaism, we edited out the lines using Jewish colloquialisms. Masquerading as a white woman was how I was allowed to showcase my three years of training to a room full of and, I use that term very loosely, agents.

When you are a person of colour in a white space you will stand out, it is inevitable. We might look different from white people and each other, we might sound different, and our life experiences are different. It is the duty of our institution to ensure that we have an experience equal to our white counterparts to acknowledge that difference and its ensuing imperative to ensure an equitable experience for all students. There were teachers who accomplished that. We built a powerful bond with our acting technique teacher, she let us speak freely and voice our struggles. This was a woman who fought for us. Our amazing speech teacher told us the Mid-Atlantic dialect was racist, a relief for most students. Our first-year teacher found it funny to mock the way most BIPOC/POC pronounce the word ask by referring to it as “ax.” However, this man celebrated our accents and allowed us to learn a dialect of our choosing at the end of the year. Our on-camera, mask and clown classes made us laugh till we cried, and our second-year physical acting class was a celebration of artistic practices from around the world. Some of our best discoveries would happen in that class, morphing into different shapes as music and language from every corner of the world filled the room. It was this teacher who encouraged me to use my Ghanaian accent and told me about Jocelyn Bioh’s School Girls; Or, the African Mean Girls Play. These were the classes where we felt seen and safe in an otherwise very violent environment. 

As a collective, we had great moments. We laughed, fought and cried together like old friends and we love and respect each other immensely. WE chose to celebrate each other. I choreographed a dance to Kendrick Lamar’s DNA with the Black student body; to each other we lovingly called it “The Black people dance.” I saw Black Panther with my POC classmates, and we walked out of the theatre alive and excited about our futures, greeting each other with the Wakanda Forever symbol. In an exercise entitled Private Moment, an exercise in which one is private in public, I was Black as hell twisting up my hair while I listened to The Read, a podcast that is a celebration of all things Black. When it came time to graduate a fellow POC classmate and I found a location to host a grad party for our friends and family with money I raised for our class. It was a treat to have our parents meet, an extension of the bond we’d built over the past two years.

I have benefited from a life that has allowed me to pursue art as a career, have incredible friends and family I can visit around the world, including the ones I made at Circle; as have a lot of my classmates. One day after class my teacher volunteered the knowledge that I was privileged, I replied, “I know.” My privilege protects me to live comfortably in an otherwise uncomfortable world. My privilege does not protect me from enduring systemic racism and years of other people’s unchecked white privilege. Students and Executive Directors running their hands through my many hairstyles without permission, unprompted, ignorant questions, and my personal favourite, the unrelenting fascination with my voice and grasp of the English language.  It didn’t protect me from the degrading language used by Whitney Kaufman, Coordinator of Student Affairs when she chose to read out loud the word nigger, to a room full of students, myself included while attempting to convince my white-passing Latinx classmate it would be appropriate for her to use that word towards a male BIPOC student during our showcase. It certainly did not protect me when a teacher chose to make a mockery of my skin colour, jokingly grabbing my arm in front of our entire cast and declaring my tone was similar to the colour of dirt. An already disgusting joke made even more distasteful by the fact my skin tone was being compared to that of an unbathed prisoner.

We need to stop making excuses for white people and start holding them accountable for their prejudices; Circle in the Square Theatre School is unapologetically racist. The things I and countless other students of colour experienced were nothing short of traumatic. Racialised trauma left me feeling worthless, it silenced my thoughts, numbed me of emotion and made me put distrust in my white friends. Most of all it made me believe that I was a bad actor. The teacher who acknowledged my privilege taught us in order to be a good actor you must not have fear, shame or ignorance. How can an institution that runs solely on those three principles teach anyone how to act let alone charge money for it? 

The performative allyship displayed by Circle on June 1st was a farce. Where was the support for their students during the recent attacks against Asians due to the Covid-19 pandemic, while ICE continues to deport Latinx communities, and the murder of Ahmaud Arbery before George Floyd? They don’t celebrate MLK day, they don’t celebrate Black and brown culture and the staff member they chose to tokenise does not appear on the current faculty page of the school’s website despite the fact she’s worked for them for over 4 years. The school has always been focused on white superiority from their predominantly white staff to the majority of white, cis-gender, male guest speakers. Your institution is a toxic environment that requires a complete overhaul in management. The Executive Director E. Colin O’ Leary, has been complicit in the face of racism, he is a passive man, and a passive man cannot be a leader. He chose to be inactive and complicit in the face of white supremacy. What he allowed to happen to me, and multiple other students for DECADES was fucked up and most important, it’s illegal. If he were anything other than white, he would have lost his job years ago. He needs to take his job seriously, stop protecting those who do not need protection including those who hold job security as a result of close family friendships and, he needs to start hiring staff that cares about their students.

Black Lives Matter! All Power to the People!

In Solidarity,
Lebene Ayivor 

Two

The first time my Singaporean accent was celebrated in America.

Jody Doo as Sunny Lee

As a Singaporean actress in the US, my accent was never an advantage. Until now. 

These are my thoughts during a moment I took for myself in the midst of the media high and intensive rehearsals for White Pearl, a twisted corporate comedy about selling whiteness and the ugliness of the beauty industry. 

It was the winter of 2013 when I was in my first year of acting school. During voice class, each student took turns to read lines from a script, to showcase our best voice. I barely said a few words when the teacher suddenly yelled, ‘Your accent is not American!’. 

The incident put some fear in me, and I did not speak up in class for the next few weeks. And if I had to, it would be one-word replies or in a low, inaudible tone. I was afraid of being yelled at, for being who I am, a Singaporean, with a Singapore accent, in a class full of Americans. 

So here I was, afraid of speaking - in theatre school - where that was my primary role. 

But I did not take pity on myself. I knew I had to sound American in order to land acting jobs in America (or do I?). We had speech classes in school, but it was hard to get the help I needed when it was a big class. So, I found and worked with a private speech tutor for a year, who I had to pay out of pocket.

I don’t come from a rich family, and I mostly paid for acting school myself. So every penny spent counted and hurt. But I knew I needed to do it. And it was working. 

We would meet three times a week after school and I would practice “IPA” (International Phonetic Alphabet) like hell. I made sure I recorded every lesson so I could listen and learn from my mistakes. I also made sure that I only had American roommates. I wanted to immerse myself, 24-7, in the American accent and culture, so I could succeed as an actor in the US. 

Then came the spring of 2014, when my year-end evaluation was due. As I was sitting across my school director in his musky office, he said words that I will never forget. 

“Some of the faculty wonder how much you understand their classes.” 

The words stung. 

Because I did not sound “American” enough, and that my personality and communication style was not western enough, they assumed I did not understand their classes. 

It felt like outright racism. 

There, I finally said it. It only took 6 years. 

One fun fact. English is the first and most used language in Singapore. The result of British colonialism and western-educated local elites. 

If the faculty took a closer look at my resume and transcript, which we all had to submit during our application to the school, they would have seen that I graduated with a Communications degree from an American college in Singapore. 

It hurt when they questioned my ability to understand their classes because of my different accent and (let’s be honest) East Asian heritage. 

I am not angry. I am hurt. Hurt because I had worked and sacrificed so much to be there. A school that I committed to for 2 years of my life, and emptied my savings to enroll. 

In return, they could have spent a moment to understand me, my background and education. But they assumed that this Chinese girl from who-knows-where does not understand their classes. 

That, for me, is outright racist. 

Was I overreacting? As it turns out, not at all. 

In the spring of 2015, during graduation season, the school director repeated what I feared the most. 

He told me, “We have to cut you from your graduation showcase, because the faculty feels that your accent is not American enough.”

Me as a very drunk Lady Nijo in a school production

And worse. A Fillipino guy got cut from the showcase too. But a French-accented Swiss guy and a blonde British girl were not. The Eastern accents were booted. The Western ones remained. 

Graduation showcase is THE BIGGEST event in a theatre student’s life. The one time that industry agents and managers have a chance to see the product of your years of hard work, through a 3-minute scene. 

Fast forward to present day. I am now sitting on my balcony, in a beautiful studio apartment provided by Studio Theatre. I have been living my truest Singaporean self in rehearsal the past few days. Desdamona (director) and I spoke about how Singaporean I should sound. 

She said, “Jody, go full-on.” 

This is the first time, in a professional setting, in America, I was given permission, in fact fully encouraged, to not hide my Singaporeaness. I am paid and performing to be truly me. 

So I guess the bigger question is, what happened since then? 

How did this Singaporean actor with her Singaporean accent, viewed as inferior during her education years for being who she is, is now in the forefront of an amazing international play, alongside a mighty cast of Asian women, opening a show in the US centering Asian women with an array of authentic Asian accents?

Cast of White Pearl 

I don’t have the answer. But this is the best moment for me to speak up. 

To all theatre educators, you cannot be myopic. 

While you are not expected to predict the trends, that there will or won’t be an Asian “uprising” in the entertainment industry in the coming years, you should help your students embrace their individuality. 

You hold so much power over them, through your words and decisions. You shape their beliefs and sense of self as an actor. Build them up, not snuff them out. 

I know I have many hurdles ahead of me. I know I still have to put on my best American accent in future auditions and roles. 

I know. But right now, I celebrate. I believe we should all count our wins. 

As I end my thoughts, I must admit I do not have all the solutions. But I want to live in the moment for the next few months, and to do my best to bring Sunny Lee to life.

I want the bodies warming up the seats in Studio Theatre to experience, many of them their first, an authentic Singaporean played by an authentic Singaporean.

I hope conversations will start after the bows. And I hope these conversations will never die. Because if they do... someone else will again be told to hide who they really are. To not be themselves. So let’s talk. 

One

Hi, I’m Robin, a 2018 graduate of Circle in the Square Theatre School’s two-year conservatory program. The following are some of the racist experiences that I dealt with while at Circle.

A scene from Stephen Adly Guirgis’ “In Arabia, We Would All Be Kings” was chosen for class work twice. It has copious use of the n-word. The first time it was performed in class, was with two White women. The second time by women of color, but neither of them were Black. Alan Langdon allowed both of these scenes to happen. As a teacher who felt a character’s written gender shouldn’t be messed with, I found it hypocritical to let non-Black actors do a scene with decidedly Black language.

A fellow classmate told me she was more African than me because she went to Kenya for two years. I didn’t feel I had a point of authority to help me deal with that hell of a microaggression. Circle does not have a Human Resources Director or dedicated student liaison to facilitate that discussion as a majority of their faculty and administration is White. I was afraid to make waves since I had to do vulnerable scene work in a tiny room for the rest of the year with her. Support and advocacy would have been nice.

I was taught to use personal experience, tear down my walls, and be open on stage. I was not taught how to then cool down to a healthy place except by one teacher, who has had allegations against him for having inappropriate sexual relationships with his students. This does not help me feel safe, and made what was taught to us difficult to implement. We generally had no mental health support. I had a months-long depressive episode in my second year that greatly affected my studies. I felt like there was no one at school who could help me and was afforded no time or opportunity to take care of myself. How I didn’t kill myself while I was in class is beyond me.

I was the only Black woman in the musical theatre program, and one of two Black women in my entire class. Really?? You’re going to tell me you couldn’t find anyone else??? In goddamn New York City??? By putting one of us in each section, you ensured that we would never be able to do scenes that involved two Black women, and generally never got to work together. That frustrated me every time I went to pick a scene.

Speaking of which, I did have a few men of color in my class. All but one were kicked out or asked to repeat at the end of our first year. Circle was being reaccredited that year. Neither the year before nor the year after us had as many people of color.

Oh! All of my options given to me for showcase were songs either sung by slaves or whores. The only reasonable song option I got was “The Human Heart” from Once on This Island. This song was, at the time, being sung by Lea Salonga in the professional production above my head. Was I really going to do the same song for showcase?

I’m sure I can think of more incidents, but it’s hard to get enough therapy to deal with the world as is. Circle, get your act together, or go down in flames. Just quit taking us with you.

— Robin Murray