Building Trust: Casting BIPOC and Marginalized Roles in Community Theatre

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder & a Korean American theatre professional who’s seen this cycle more than once

The recent postponement of Big River at The Grand in Ellsworth, Maine, wasn’t just about casting. It was about community trust — and what happens when that trust hasn’t been earned. The production called for Black actors to tell a story deeply rooted in race and identity, but when no one showed up to audition, the message was clear: people didn’t feel safe. And if people don’t feel welcome, they’re not going to walk through the door.

If your theatre has historically been white-led, white-centered, or simply not known for inclusive practices, this moment is a wake-up call. You can't just open a casting call for BIPOC roles and expect people to come running. Representation isn’t about optics — it’s about accountability, responsibility, and culture. And let’s be honest: if your space hasn’t felt welcoming before, it’s going to take more than one show to rebuild that bridge.

As a Korean American artist working in theatre, I’ve been on both sides of this conversation. I’ve seen the eagerness to program diverse work — and I’ve seen what happens when a company hasn’t laid the groundwork to support it. Good intentions are a start. But real change requires something deeper: commitment, humility, and follow-through.

Here are five real steps to begin making your space more inclusive — not just so you can cast a show, but so you can build a culture people want to be part of.

1. Start Way Before Auditions

Think of auditions as the last step, not the first. If you haven’t built relationships with the communities you’re trying to reach, it’s no wonder they’re not responding. Go to their shows. Share their work. Send a real invitation — not just a flyer blast with a Google Form. Show up with humility, not entitlement. Inclusion doesn't start with a role breakdown. It starts with connection.

2. Name the Problem

Pretending the past doesn’t exist won’t help you grow. Be honest. Say, “We haven’t always gotten this right, but we want to do better — and we want to learn.” That kind of transparency goes a long way. People can spot performative allyship a mile away. But authenticity? That builds bridges. And when you mess up — and you probably will — take responsibility. Apologize, learn, and do better next time. That’s leadership.

3. Expand Who’s in the Room

It’s not just about who’s onstage — it’s about who’s calling the shots. Bring in guest directors. Hire cultural consultants. Build advisory boards. Ask yourself: are our rehearsal spaces safe for people of color? Do queer actors feel seen here? Are we making space for neurodivergent and disabled artists? If the answer is no, then that’s the work. Representation starts with who gets to make the creative choices.

4. Create Tangible Pathways for Access

Don’t assume everyone has the same access to time, money, or transportation. If you want your stage to reflect your community, start removing barriers. That could mean offering stipends, gas cards, meals during tech week, or rehearsal childcare. It’s not charity — it’s equity. And don’t forget communication access, too: clear audition info, ASL interpretation, flexible schedules. These aren’t extras — they’re essentials for a truly inclusive process.

5. Stick Around After the Show Closes

Casting someone once doesn’t mean your work is done. Inclusion isn’t a one-time event; it’s a long-term investment. Keep showing up. Keep listening. Keep inviting people into your process in a way that’s meaningful, not just convenient. Create pathways for BIPOC and marginalized artists to direct, choreograph, design, and lead. Share the stage and the power. That’s how you make it stick.

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If you want to do Big River, or The Wiz or any story rooted in a lived experience that’s not your own — you better be ready to do more than cast. You need to create a space where people feel safe to be. That’s the show worth producing.

Let’s not just reimagine our seasons. Let’s reimagine our stages — and the stories we tell together.