Student Play Halted at the University of Central Oklahoma Over Concerns About New Anti-DEI Law
by Chris Peterson
At the University of Central Oklahoma, a student-run production of Boy My Greatness by Zoe Senese-Grossberg has been stopped in its tracks. The play was chosen last year after being pitched by juniors Maggie Lawson and Liberty Welch to their student theatre organization. They had spent months preparing, rehearsing, and organizing, only to find out yesterday that it could not be performed on campus.
No administrator issued an order, and the university did not formally ban the show. The decision apparently came from the student organization itself, which grew concerned that gender-blind casting might violate Oklahoma’s new Senate Bill 796. That fear was enough to end the production before it opened. What was supposed to be an exciting student showcase became another example of how laws written in vague and sweeping terms can change the culture of a campus, not always by force, but by hesitation.
Maggie and Liberty posted about the situation on their social media.
Senate Bill 796, signed into law earlier this year by Governor Kevin Stitt, bars public colleges and universities from using state funds, property, or resources for diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives. It prohibits DEI training, loyalty oaths or ideological statements, pronoun policies, and any program that appears to give preferential treatment based on race, sex, ethnicity, or national origin. The law exempts academic freedom and student organizations, but the language is broad enough to make people second-guess how it applies. And when fear of scrutiny enters the room, second-guessing usually wins.
That’s what seems to have happened here. Gender-blind casting, a practice embraced across the theatre world, suddenly looked risky. Would it be read as a creative choice, which the law protects, or as a DEI initiative, which it forbids? No one wanted to find out the hard way. Without clear guidance, the students erred on the side of caution. A creative decision that in another year might have felt unremarkable instead became the reason a play was pulled.
I am not a legal expert, but the law as written does not prohibit queer stories, and it does not explicitly mention casting practices. Its targets are institutional policies, not student plays. Still, this is how chilling effects work. When rules are vague, people retreat. A production that had been in the works for a year, one with queer themes and a bold vision, has been pushed off campus not because the state banned it, but because students worried the state might. This is the kind of atmosphere these types of bills have created, where the lines are blurred enough that art becomes collateral damage.
Lawson and Welch aren’t giving up. They have started a GoFundMe to raise money and produce the play independently, away from university funding and oversight. Supporters online have rallied to their side, seeing this not just as a show, but as a statement about creative freedom under pressure. Their campaign has become a rallying point, proof that community can step in when institutions hesitate.
Supporters of SB 796 say it restores fairness and neutrality in higher education, preventing schools from mandating ideology. I say it undercuts universities’ ability to support marginalized voices and replaces academic freedom with a climate of caution. What’s undeniable is the uncertainty. Oklahoma’s law has left students and faculty trying to read between the lines, wondering what is safe to put on stage, what might provoke scrutiny, and what risks they are willing to take.
Theatre has always been a place where artists test limits, bend tradition, and reimagine identity. Shakespeare’s stages were once filled entirely with men. Modern productions swap genders freely, reshaping the classics for new generations. But in Oklahoma, and in states passing similar laws, the question is no longer just about artistic merit. It is about politics, legality, and the risk of being misunderstood.
For Boy My Greatness, the safest path turned out to be off campus. That’s where the show will go, carried by the resilience of its student producers and the community that chooses to back them. And the good news is that their GoFundMe has already raised almost $6,000, surpassing their original goal of $2,000, ensuring that this play will not only survive, but thrive, and find its audience after all.