Student Blog: All The World’s A Stage- But Not For Everybody

It’s a nice thought to think of theater as for everybody, a universal language we all can speak through sound, emotion, and visuals.

But “for everyone” doesn’t mean it gets to everyone. As does everything, theater has an inherently political nature that can push, or prevent, its viewership. 

It can feel scary to label anything as “political”. Whenever I say theater is political, I’ll get an eye-roll, a sigh, an obviously contorted face, or the coveted phrase,

“I’m not a political person!”

Enter Stage Left My Annoyance. 

Labeling theater as “non-political” is rooted in labeling theater as entertainment and art. Yes, theater is entertainment and art, but entertainment isn’t its own self-contained world. Every line exists in its own context, an accumulation of human experience. Implying that theater is just entertainment implies that joy, laughter, grief, are their own separate planets. These emotions are a product of a larger system, including who gets sidelined and who gets the spotlight. 

Thinking of theater as “just entertainment” also boxes theater in as not a “real” job. Trying to explain to some of my older relatives that I’m going to school to be a lighting designer in theater is met with at least a little abrasion. I’m sure this is a common experience for anyone in theater. 

“Sweetie, don’t you want a real job?” 

“Honey, theater is just a hobby!”

It’s hard for people outside of the theater world to understand that theater has purpose outside of a fun Friday night. 

Politics and theater can, more often than not, be synonyms. Stages where power is questioned, characters get a space for uninterrupted monologues, and the audience decides who deserved applause. Politics is, at a technical level, blocking and lighting: who gets center stage, who stands in the shadows, and which narratives are spotlighted as “truth” as part of a rehearsed production. 

The difference is that in theater, everyone admits it’s a performance. So when I say I want to be a lighting designer, I hope you understand that I’m not choosing to daydream over accepting reality—I’m choosing to shape how stories are seen. And if politics teaches us anything, it’s that whoever controls the lighting often controls the story.

We talk about the purpose of theater all the time in my program at Mason Gross School of the Arts. Usually, the conversation usually starts with space. Because theater doesn’t just exist in theory — it happens someplace, somewhere. 

In my Elements of Design class, we break it down into eight spaces where theater tends to be:

• Sacred
• Processional
• Public
• Sympotic
• Cosmic
• Cave
• Empty
• Virtual

All have their own vibe — their own relationship to culture, aesthetics, and the way a performance makes us feel.

The one thing they have in common? 

Every single one of those spaces needs an audience.

Even when COVID shut everything down, theater didn’t disappear. It just shape-shifted. Zoom readings. Livestreams. Grainy recordings. Somehow, people still showed up. Because at its core, theater is about making a moment together.

In my Theater Histories class, we talk about how theater isn’t just something you watch — it’s something you’re in conversation with. There’s the obvious stuff, like laughter or applause. But there’s also the energy shift in the room. The talk in the lobby after. The group chat blowing up later that night. The performance doesn’t end at curtain call.

That’s basically what Augusto Boal was getting at with his idea of the “spect-actor” in Theatre of the Oppressed. The audience isn’t passive. They’re part of it. They observe, yes — but they also react, question, sometimes even step in. It’s participation, not just mindless consumption. 

And once you start thinking about theater as participation, it’s hard not to see it as public discourse. A play says something. Even when it swears it’s “just a comedy.” It reflects a set of values. It frames a story a certain way. It nudges perspective. When a group of people sit in a room and experience the same story together, that does something.

That’s political. Not in an aggressive, overt way. Just in a human way.

And it’s not only the performance itself. The process is political too. It comes down to who, how, and why.

Who gets to write the script?
Who gets cast?
Who can afford a ticket?
Who actually sees themselves on stage?

How do you get in the room in the first place?
How does history shape the story being told?
How does a production go against — or comfortably sit inside — social norms?

Why this play, right now?
Why does it get funding?
Why does another one not?
Why are audiences excited — or resistant?

Race, gender, money — they all shape those answers. Whether we say it out loud or not.

Nothing about theater is neutral. It can be joyful, ridiculous, escapist, breathtaking. But it’s never floating out of its orbit. It’s built inside it.

This is especially seen within the college audition process. Firstly, getting to the idea of applying for a B.F.A. program, politics comes into play. There’s so much information on where to apply, how to apply, when to apply, and it can be VERY confusing for a newbie. 

When I was applying, I was bombarded with do’s, don’t’s, and everything in between. Access to this information can be lost or difficult to obtain if you’re not at a performing arts high school. A lot of high school counselors often discourage applying for a theater degree. This often stems from the lack of knowledge of theater careers, but nonetheless crushes some theater makers before they even start the process. 

In the age of a defunded arts world, a lot of high schools even lack a theater program now. For instance, according to Zipdo, in 2023 Florida public schools had a 68% decrease in arts electives, and 31% eliminated them entirely. Young theater makers are constantly at the risk of losing their passion and access because of political consequences and choices. 

And then you get to auditioning. COSTS, COSTS, COSTS!

Paying for prescreens, flights to auditions, hotels, audition coaches. Just trying to get in the room is a hefty expense. That’s before hopefully getting in somewhere, flying to tour schools, paying deposits for housing, tuition. 

Being successful in the audition process is difficult, expensive, and emotionally draining. A wonderful combination, I know. 

I’ll stop lecturing you, but my point is that just starting to be a theater-maker is met with many roadblocks, all consequences of social, geographic, economic, and political conditions. 

Here I return to the phrase,”I’m not a political person!”

This phrase frustrates me because you don’t have to be political to be influenced by politics. By not acknowledging the political, social, and economic systems that harm or benefit theater, we lose the public discourse element of theater. When we lose the conversational nature of theater and society, how can it ever improve?

I am not saying you have to be political at every turn of your life. BUT, we all need to recognize the influence of politics in our lives. Demeaning the influence of political choices and consequences can, at a low-level, be ignorant, and at a high-level, be dangerous. 

If you meet an artist who says they are not political, they don’t mean they’re not political. They mean they’re comfortable in their current conditions. 

Politics is not something to be afraid of in the arts. It’s important to be honest and open about the consequences of choice, power, and publicity. If we demean theater to its non-political nature, we remove the meaning of theater entirely.