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-Seven

My time at Circle was for the most part very pleasant and I’ve learned so much. However, being a plus size woman in the performance industry has many challenges such as being typecast as the butch best friend, side character, or the comic relief who won’t find love. This has reflected in statements from multiple faculty members. In my class, I am the biggest member, immediately setting me apart. In Singing Interpretation with Sara Lazarus, I experienced two instances of fat-phobic comments that she and my class were too blind to see. The first instance was at the beginning of the year. We had to sing a few songs for her so she can get to know what kind of performer we are. She went around the room and asked us to rank ourselves if we are more of a singer, actor, or dancer. When it came to me I stated that I am tied between singing and dancing as my strongest suit and acting behind that. She said in response, while looking me up and down, “Oh, you are a strong dancer? I would’ve never guessed that,” as if the way that I look somehow handicapped me from being able to move well.

The second instance was more heartbreaking.

Around the third week, Sara wanted to hear more songs from our books and gave us an opportunity to present something of our choosing before she assigned songs for the rest of the year. Being the organized person that I am, I had a spreadsheet of about 50 different songs in my book. Multiple students came up to her and asked her which ones she would like to hear from their repertoires. She gave her suggestions and said things like “Oh I would love to hear that song from you“ and “Wow I didn’t know you could do that, let's hear it”. When I presented my list, I had many love songs, sopranos songs, and ingénue style characters. She went down the list I handed to her, shaking her head saying things like “No, that song isn’t right for you” and “No, I don’t see you in that role”. I then proceeded to explain to her that I have in fact played those roles in the past in my hometown. she was shocked at that information that someone would cast a plus size person as the feminine romantic lead. She said that those directors have an “interesting casting taste”.

Out of the 50+ songs on the list, she chose "Good Morning Baltimore" from Hairspray for me to sing. I explained to her that there are other musicals that I should be able to sing from other than Hairspray (one of the only shows featuring a plus size character). She proceeded to argue with me that that’s just going to be my type from now on and that the industry sees me as such and I shouldn’t try to change that unless I lose weight. I argued back that I should be able to open my horizons and learn from multiple sources and different roles rather than a handful of roles that look like me. That I shouldn’t be bound to being the "mom" character or the funny best friend who doesn’t get a solo or Tracy from Hairspray, that I can be a lead if I am truly qualified in my vocal technique, characterization, humanity and other skills.

She then proceeded to say that at the end of the day it’s the producers and casting directors that make the call and the other casting aspects about me don’t matter because of the way that I look, because people don’t find plus size attractive or castable and I should give up that pipe dream.

Hearing from an educator that I should narrow my options, that it’s useless to learn and work on those songs because they’re out of my looks was very heartbreaking. She reconditioned my thinking permanently because ever since, whenever I hear a new song, I automatically think "am I too fat to sing this?"

Although I am a white individual, plus size women can be found in any race and there was a complete disrespect for the way she spoke to me when it came to my body. And since no one in my class could relate because I was the biggest, those comments didn’t seem hurtful when they still affect me today.

Twenty-Six

It costs me to share what happened in my time at Circle in the Square — both in the summer program and then the two-year program. I share it to make sure this side of the systemic power abuse is heard, acknowledged, and addressed and specifically that Ken Schatz is permanently removed from faculty and not allowed to set foot in the school again, particularly for the protection of the underaged women there. I also share it so those who have also been abused by him know they are not alone.

I share the experience of my rape at Circle in the Square because the occurrence of my rape is part of the culture at Circle in the Square where violence, assault, sexual assault and rape are too common of occurrences during rehearsals on and off campus. My letter is not the first to address this and I am sure will not be the last. Again, I share so that those who also survived violence while at Circle in the Square know they are not alone. It wasn't our fault. This is the culture that was embraced, enforced, hidden and that faculty and administration actively practiced gaslighting around.

This is my story:

• I was a teenager my entire time at Circle in the Square. 

• I was raped my first year by a fellow student during a rehearsal for a rape scene.

• I was 18.

• My rapist's excuse was: he was doing what the school taught us what acting was and that he had gotten lost in the role. 

• It took Circle in the Square a month to kick my rapist out.

• During that month I was expected to continue to attend class and be around my rapist.

• I had PTSD.

• I was neither provided with nor steered toward any mental health support.

• I was told to “use” what I was feeling in my acting work. 

• When I had flashbacks and panic attacks I was asked to leave class and was left alone to deal with them.

• I was penalized for the amount of class I was missing and my “lack of participation” [my inability due to my PTSD]

• In my second year final project I was cast with my rapist's at-that-time girlfriend who had turned half the school against me when I reported him. I was told we were cast together because the teacher thought it would add some exciting conflict and energy to the play. It was re-traumatizing and caused major setbacks in my healing. 

• The teacher I first confided the rape to was Ken Schatz — the physical acting teacher — 20 years my senior. 

• I confided in Ken Schatz first because Ken Schatz had been grooming me since he first met me in the Circle in the Square summer program when I was 16.

• Ken Schatz began to pursue a sexual relationship with me in my second year of school stating it was “okay” since he was technically no longer my teacher for the second year. 

• Ken Schatz told me to tell no one because he had many student accusations against him already, particularly from underaged women, and it would tarnish his reputation further.

• Circle in the Square was aware of these accusations before and after my time. They stayed silent, kept him employed, and enabled his abuse.

• It took me over 10 years and someone else offering me the word “grooming” — a word I didn’t know — as a potential label for my experience, for me to finally understand what happened to me with Ken Schatz.

• It took me this long because of the nature of grooming and the long-term impact it has. 

• I offer this definition from the NSPCC in case it helps someone else understand what happened to them: "Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate, exploit and abuse them. Children and young people who are groomed can be sexually abused, exploited or trafficked.”— NSPCC 

• Ken Schatz reminded me often during the time I knew him that my brain wouldn’t fully develop till I was 25. 

After I left Circle in the Square I dealt with ongoing PTSD, depression, panic attacks, flashbacks, anxiety, cutting, anorexia/bulimia, binge drinking, and suicidal ideation. I almost quit acting 5 years after graduating, despite some success. I was wildly frustrated that I still could not put the Circle in the Square acting techniques to use and often wound up re-traumatized when trying to use them. I continued to not be able to feel safe enough to do my work in any kind of power dynamic with white men — which in the current state of the business is almost always the power dynamic of a rehearsal/shoot/production/audition. I blamed myself.

Luckily, I had enough resilience to try to teach myself how to act all over again using a healthy acting technique. This took many years, a lot of money and a lot of grit. I was fortunate enough to have been able to stick with it.  I am now finally confident in my craft, over a decade after graduating from the school that was supposed to give me these tools. I still have a deep distrust of white men in power in acting spaces and continue to struggle to be vulnerable — which is a huge part of our job as actors. After over a decade of therapy, healing, and relearning how to act, I still have panic attacks during auditions and I still lose jobs because of what happened to me at Circle in the Square Theatre School. 

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

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

Fourteen

I began my acting training at Circle in the Square Theatre School in the fall of 2015. I auditioned with the character Paul San Marco’s monologue from A Chorus Line. The monologue was about growing up gay and becoming a drag queen in a time when it was considered very taboo. This particular monologue meant a lot to me as it pertained to my own life experiences and I could relate to the character on a personal level. I had auditioned for quite a few acting schools in my original home state of North Carolina and felt as though I couldn’t be my true self in any of the schools I had auditioned for. I had a desire to explore queer and female characters. With me being an effeminate man, I believed that New York, specifically Circle in the Square, would allow me to explore these desires in an environment I could deem safe. After the warm reception of my monologue in my audition and my acceptance into the school, I thought I had finally found a place where I could be myself without persecution. It wasn’t until I arrived at the school and began to study there that I realized how wrong I was. 

I was so repelled by what I had experienced at Circle in the Square Theatre School that I believed this is what I would endure for the rest of my acting career, leading me to quit acting before I even graduated. When I told a member of the staff, in the last month of my training program, that my plans were to not pursue acting but pursue the art of drag instead, I was mocked and laughed at. This only furthered my repulsion to the acting community and made me realize my fears of not being taken seriously after graduation were all too real. My entire outlook on acting and the theatre world is irrevocably changed after attending Circle in the Square Theatre School. 

When I first arrived, I was so excited to start learning and absorbing everything I could. It only took one year for me to realize that this program wasn’t as advertised. After the first year, I begged my parents to let me drop out of the program. I was so deeply unhappy that I tried anything I could to get myself removed from the program. I would arrive late or not at all, skip out of doing scene work, and ignoring schoolwork altogether. This wasn’t the case in the first half of 2015. I have vague memories of Circle but the ones that stick out the most are of being embarrassed in front of my peers by teachers. There is one instance that I would describe as the catalyst for my extreme dislike of the program and its teaching methods. I performed a scene from the musical Gypsy as the titular character, with a friend portraying Rose, Gypsy’s mother. It was a gender bending role and I was aware of the implications and risk. The critiques I got weren’t related to my acting or technique but instead to my demeanor and how I spoke, which was and still is very effeminate. I brushed it off, thinking it was good feedback and how I could apply it in the future. The teachers only want what’s best for us, right? 

The next role I performed in the same scene class was from the play The Last Days of Judas Iscariot as a male Judge. It was for the same teacher about a week or two later after my Gypsy scene. I remember him stopping the scene, which I was only a minor character in, telling me that my “role choices are veering into parody and stereotype.” My worst fears were being realized and I became hurt and shut down. He apologized after class, but the damage was already done. This same teacher also went from student to student and judged us on appearance as a casting agent would. He told me that I have leading man looks but I would need to work on “butching it up.” It wasn’t only this male teacher, but 2 other male teachers telling me in the first year to “make it manlier” and to practice speaking with a lower voice. I remember doing a scene from The Motherfucker with the Hat and being praised for acting “straight.” These things changed my whole outlook on acting and of myself. Making me believe that no one would hire me if I was myself. Looking back, it’s ironic, the same teachers that would teach us that being ourselves brought us further to the truth of a character, while simultaneously telling me to act like a heteronormative man. These two contradicting ideas made it difficult for me to relate to my peers who were loving the program.

The first-year scene showcase is probably my favorite memory of Circle. I was allowed to play a female character, and the reception by the audience and by my peers was incredible. It was the first time since arriving at the school that I felt as though I didn’t stick out for the wrong reasons. The teachers comments after that performance was the main reason I begged my parents to let me drop out. Why would I stay in a school that actively ridiculed my choices? By the second year, I was very checked out. The only classes I loved were Dance and Clown. Those teachers were extremely positive and never had anything negative to say about my choices of female characters or my effeminate tendencies. In fact, they were encouraging and extremely sweet about it. 

There were very few teachers open to the idea of me gender bending, and when I did express these desires they were usually patronizing. When my second year was at an end, and the shows were being cast, I was only cast in one show as a female character in a gender bent production of Julius Caesar. I was hurt by being cast in one show, but not surprised. I suspected the reason for me not being cast was me not attending classes, which was laughable even then because the people who were cast in multiple shows rarely showed up to class. The double standards were, and still are ridiculous. When I was finally able to play this female character, I put in so much effort and was off book before everyone else. It’s foolish to say, but I was 19 at the time and still very immature, but I felt unprepared to take on this role. I was just told for two years that I wouldn’t be able to do something like this, then when I get the chance, I have no idea where to begin. While my peers had two years to practice these things, I had a few weeks. It was unfair and further exacerbated my distaste for the theatre and acting community. I was just laughed at by the head of the school for wanting to pursue drag as a career, if no one respected drag outside of acting, why would they respect it inside?

I’m glad I went to Circle in the Square Theatre School, but not because it’s a good school, but because it taught me that the acting world isn’t made for people like me. It’s not made for people of color or for people who are transgender. If our stories are being told, its usually straight people portraying them, or they’re tokenized. The abuse I endured at Circle is exactly what I would have continued to have endured if I pursued my acting career. If Circle is to grow and learn as an acting school, they will need to realize that the world is changing. Stage acting is the one career where it’s possible for a person to play someone who is the exact opposite of themselves. POC people don’t have to play “POC” roles, men don’t have to have deep voices or always play men, women don’t always have to be skinny and pretty and young for her to get work, they can be older, or curvy, or also play men. The world of acting is full of amazing possibilities. It’s time to stop stifling the creativity of your students so you can mold them into actors who are “marketable.” You know what else is marketable? Originality.

— Anonymous

Thirteen

Having a somewhat rare physical condition is a challenge in itself but attending Circle with it presented a unique, constantly uphill struggle in itself. I am already used to facing discrimination in certain areas but while at Circle I was never offered any empathy (something that actors’/artists’ hearts should be pumping along with blood). I was not afforded the comfort of knowing I would not be penalized if I physically had to spend a few classes working a lesser capacity.

The syndrome with which I must live causes a state of joint hyper-mobility and instability. This results in chronic musculoskeletal pain, cardiovascular abnormalities, occasional joint dislocation, and can cause dysfunction of the autonomic nervous system. All of this information can easily be found through various search engines. The school has known about my syndrome and its symptoms not just since I put it on my forms upon enrollment, but since I brought it up to the school’s director at my initial audition. I personally informed each and every member of the faculty of my condition multiple times, even going above and beyond to provide fact sheets. No faculty members have ever once been able to recall what condition I have. 

The lack of willingness to understand has not only been highly discouraging to me personally, but also professionally. Cruel gossip surrounding the credibility of my condition went around on days that I was not inhibited (though I am constantly in some form of pain).

Multiple faculty members were so kind as to remind me that I might have difficulty sustaining a career. One faculty member went so far as to speculate whether or not I could carry a child to term. This horrifying comment was obviously completely out of line but was ignored when I brought it to the school’s director. These offenses happened as an actress in a wheelchair earned a Tony Award for her performance on the professional stage shared with the school.

Difficult days were made harder by the fact the school does not have adequate disabled access. I had to leave hours earlier to access the nearest subway station with an elevator, only to struggle with maneuvering the school’s multiple flights of stairs. These extenuating circumstances sometimes resulted in tardiness, which was met with no understanding. I had particular trouble getting to the off-site dance studio on time and would relay a message to the teacher on days I was struggling against particularly prohibitive pain. Regardless, I would still be marked late and reminded that three latenesses equaled an absence and that three absences triggered the potential to be cut from the program.

This brings me to my last point: I was very nearly expelled solely due to my condition rather than the work I enrolled to do. I was never informed that my teachers worried for me or that they felt I wouldn’t be able to deal with the rigors of the second year. This led to a four month repeal that, with only ten days’ notice before the new school year, resulted in an offer to repeat the first year.

I decided to complete what I had started, but developed a fear of semester evaluations keeping me from my certificate. I pushed myself past my physical limits to prove myself, which only resulted in more problems. I fractured my hand in an accident and a faculty member reacted by embarrassing me in class with many backhanded compliments about my work ethic.

What I have learned at Circle has been invaluable but I feel that my experience and memories have been tainted by a lack of respect, understanding, and (worryingly so) empathy. I truly want the school to understand the unnecessary pressure I endured and want them to understand that I am not the one disabled - they are. In the three years I attended Circle in the Square, I missed one day due to my condition. One.

— 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