This letter was originally printed in “Past is Prologue” as an introduction to the issue in early fall.
As I was gathering my thoughts for this issue’s letter, I couldn’t help but notice that it would be heading to print around the 24th anniversary of 9/11. What’s different in today’s cultural and political landscape from 2001, and what’s the same? What does it take mentally, emotionally, physically to stay true to the North Star of our values? What are we fighting for versus what are we fighting against? Is it possible to both fight for and against simultaneously?
John Lewis’s words “good trouble” are often invoked as inspirational fighting words; the full quote is, “Speak up, speak out, get in the way. Get in good trouble, necessary trouble, and help redeem the soul of America.”
This issue uplifts stories of good trouble, including Nathan Pugh’s reflections on why he left a job at the embattled Kennedy Center, and Gabriela Furtado Coutinho’s vignettes from theatre artists who survived oppression and dictatorship. One of those named is Cecile Guidote-Alvarez, a singular force of global change even before the days of martial law in the Philippines. In the late 1960s, she was a foreign student at Trinity University and Dallas Theater Center, and used her master’s thesis as the blueprint for a national theatre movement in the Philippines, beginning with the Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA) and continuing to the present day. I met her when I was a young artist in San Francisco in the early ’70s, and ever since she has been my guide in how to fight for your values and against oppressive forces. Her husband was on a shoot-to-kill order, and the couple sought refuge in the U.S. For the next decade and a half, they lived in exile in the U.S., and Cecile was taken in by Ellen Stewart at La MaMa in NYC. After the 1986 People Power Revolution, Cecile and her husband returned home. Her husband became a senator, and Cecile continued her commitment to social change through the arts by leading the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), similar to our NEA. Now in her 80s, Cecile is a tireless advocate for climate justice and disability rights.
I had another time-machine moment when I was recently in Los Angeles for East West Players’ revival of Philip Kan Gotanda’s Yankee Dawg You Die. I saw the original production at Berkeley Rep in 1988, with veteran actor Sab Shimono as Vincent Chang and Kelvin Han Yee as the early-career Bradley Yamashita. The new revival gave Kelvin a full circle moment, with him now being age-appropriate for the role of Vincent. In the ’70s and ’80s, the Asian American Theater Company (AATC), founded by playwright/director Frank Chin, was the literal and figurative training ground for a generation of us who grew up during student strikes, political protests, and the background of war in Asia. We were playwrights, actors, directors, designers, and producers that included Kelvin and Philip as well as David Henry Hwang, Rick Shiomi, Amy Hill, Dennis Dun, Marc Hayashi, Lane Nishikawa, Judi Nihei, Eric Hayashi, Pam Wu, Lydia Tanji, myself, and many others. We were the young upstarts challenging and rejecting stereotypes and reimagining how Asian Americans could be portrayed. In retrospect, we were fighting for and against simultaneously.
In this issue, you’ll see that Come From Away tops the list of most-produced plays in the 2025-26 season. It’s been called a celebration of the best of humankind, and indeed, those days just after 9/11 created true community in ways that countered the shared grief and devastation.
Most days, the memories of Sept. 11, 2001 feel like a photograph with the images blurry and time-worn. However, it’s impossible for anyone who was in NYC that morning to un-see the images—at least for me. The memories return in full HD color on that day each year. I was in the old TCG office on Lexington Avenue close to Grand Central Station, a one-way street with traffic moving downtown. At 8:46 a.m. on that Monday morning, we were about to begin a selection panel meeting for one of our grant programs. As panelists arrived and poured coffee, one of our TCG staff came in and told us to turn on the news. We gathered around the TV silently listening, and I was aware that there was no traffic noise from Lexington. I looked out the window and saw the streets filled with pedestrians dressed in work clothes all silently walking uptown on that downtown one-way street. We all tried to call loved ones and the phone lines were jammed. We made the decision to shelter in place and continue with as much of our panel meeting as possible. It was part shock, part distraction, and part commitment to the work at hand to serve our beloved theatre field. We were determined to stay true to our North Star.
I don’t know that I’ve definitively answered the questions I asked in my opening paragraph. I do know that it’s essential that we, as a community, continue to keep these and other questions front of mind. Our co-executive director team is continuing this examination as we move into TCG’s strategic planning process. As always, we invite you to share your reflections and questions with us. We hope to see you at the upcoming Fall Forum in New York, Nov. 7-9. If you’re not able to join us, we’re always an email away.
Ever onward!
Emilya Cachapero (she/her/siya) is the Co-Executive Director for National and Global Programming for Theatre Communications Group (TCG) and has been active in the global arts community for more than 40 years.
