Twenty-Three

I was physically and sexually assaulted on campus at the end of my first year at Circle in the Square Theatre School. A late night rehearsal on campus was being held for our first year Cabaret. Students were working one on one with Beth Falcone while other students were practicing in other rooms throughout the basement/foyer. It was after dark and the box office entrance was locked up - leaving the elevator as the only exit. At that time, it was separated by a one-way locking door (the key card system was conveniently installed the next year - I assume to prevent what happened to me from happening to someone else in the same spot).

A fellow classmate and good friend of mine, Anthony, physically and sexually assaulted me. I screamed and banged on the door for other students to help during the full ordeal (probably 30 minutes). The security guard upstairs heard my screams for help and called the police who interrupted Anthony choking me out. In the process of pulling Anthony from choking me, he broke a police officer's fingers.

I remember my friend coming out and helping me away from the police while they tried to restrain Anthony. Someone had told her that they heard Anthony and I rehearsing a scene for Scene Night but she knew I was not partnered with Anthony and immediately came running. The NYPD took me to the police station for my statement and I took the subway home alone after.

The massive amount of pressure to “suffer for your art” bred by the school led me to show up the next day - because it was First Year Scene Night that evening and I didn't feel like I had a choice.

I was brought directly in to talk to Colin O’Leary and a male security guard from the building. It was then I was asked to disclose what happened to me, again, to a room of men for the second time in 24 hours (the first time being to the police taking my statement). I was informed there was no security camera footage where the attack took place. After that was finished, Colin sent me back to class - with zero follow up. The school never suggested I see a therapist, did not offer to give me time off (Circle has a strict attendance policy), and was completely unprepared to handle the situation.

What happened the night before was talked about in every single class I attended that next day (as my fellow classmate processed out loud), with each teacher taking a second to check in with me. Some were supportive and others offensive/insensitive. The worst part of it all was multiple people heard my SCREAMS for help but thought I was working on a scene assigned by Alan Langdon to First Year students where the female character repeatedly screams for help at a door.

The two worst responses aside from the administration would be Elizabeth Loughran and Alan Langdon - openly discussing it in class and, in my opinion, encouraging me to channel this trauma into my work. (Again, First Year Scene Night was later that evening.) The incident was discussed well into my second year. 

The two best responses being Ed Berkeley and Jacqueline Jacobus: who instantly shut down group conversation about it, checked in with me privately and with compassion, encouraged me to do what I needed to do,  and get the help if needed. Ed even excused me from a rehearsal so I could go get my restraining order in place.

I experienced one of the most violating experiences of my life at Circle in the Square Theatre School and all the school did was make it much worse. Every school should have a written sexual violence prevention and response plan. #metoo

This is simply my first hand experience. I was witness to multiple Macro and Micro-aggressions to my fellow BIPOC students at the hands of the Administration, Alan, Elizabeth, Larry Gleason, Sara Louise Lazarus, Christina Pastor and Dr. Lucille S. Rubin.

— Maddison Vestrum-McIver, Class of 2015

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 

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

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