Then there are other letters. One that has attracted attention begins with the salutation “Dear White American Theater.” It comes from a movement called BIPOC (“Black, Indigenous, and People of Color theatremakers”), and is known as the “We See You” statement. It was signed by some three hundred theatre workers, some prominent, of the indicated identities, and was also issued in July, followed quickly by a 31-page list of demands. The tone of the “We See You” statement is so peremptory, melodramatic (each paragraph beginning with “We have watched you” and ending with “We See You”), arrogant, and condescending (“We are about to introduce you . . . to yourself”) as to obviate a friendly reception by any addressee with even a smidgen of self-respect. So before beginning to consider the letter’s substance, I’d say what one says to any actor who’s made an inept rehearsal entrance: “Go out and come in again.” Then, following an apology for the tone, perhaps we can talk. The list of demands embraces this same tone, and includes the requirement that “every department, sector, or independent company affiliated with any one commercial theater or Broadway show be made up of at least fifty percent BIPOC staff and artists across all levels and positions.” This proportion covers all leadership and middle management jobs, the marketing teams, design teams, the programming of mainstage shows, the Tony nominating committee, etc., etc. It demands that fifty percent of all Broadway theatres be renamed for BIPOC artists, and reserved for the telling of BIPOC stories. It extends these demands to theatres in the nonprofit sector. In a Mao-ist touch, it mandates that training programs and classes be initiated for the white unenlightened (including board members—I really want to attend that first session), and that they also be incorporated into the rehearsal process. It asks for funding for the training of BIPOC critics (I hereby identify as 50% BIPOC). It includes two artistic demands that, in view of this essay’s theme, we should keep in mind, 1) “We demand that you demand from the creators’ estates free interpretive rein over the piece on behalf of the BIPOC artist,” and 2) The fifty-percent BIPOC minimum in casting obtains “especially when color-conscious casting may be applied, such as with Western classics and revivals of classics (unless racial identity is specifically dictated by the playwright).” There’s much more.

In other words, this document goes far beyond suggestions for consciousness-raising, for community outreach, for pay equity and equality of opportunity, and so on. Rather, it seeks to establish quotas, and of outlandish proportions.^(I) It doesn’t even meet the standard of a preliminary negotiating position, a reason to sit down at the table. In its quest for a “diversity” that would actually be a BIPOC hegemony, it ignores not only artistic quality, competence, and experience, but the economic realities of budgeting, fund-raising, donations, ticket sales, etc., which ultimately decide the fates of artistic enterprises. Maybe training sessions are in order on that. Buried in the desert sands of the document are, for sure, valid observations and topics worthy of consideration. But not in the context of the statement, which is one of retribution and an extreme version of reparations—the version that says “Give us your jobs and your power. Get out of our way now.”

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