Do School Administrators Understand the Damage They’re Doing When They Shut Down a Show?

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder

Let’s talk about the quiet devastation that happens when a high school play is canceled.

Not delayed, not gently reworked with a collaborative discussion among students, licensing holders, and faculty. Canceled. Yanked from the calendar. Scrubbed from the website. Gone. Because someone, one parent, one administrator, one board member, got uncomfortable. Or spooked. Or decided a few complaints meant the whole thing had to go.

And then they do it. They pull the plug. Without thinking about what that decision actually means.

Recent events at Fannin County High School in Georgia and last year at Santa Rosa High School in California have brought to light the troubling trend of high school theater productions being canceled due to complaints or censorship.

Here’s the thing: theatre is not just an extracurricular activity. For many high school students, it is the thing. It is their outlet, their identity, their safe space. It is where they figure out how to be brave, how to collaborate, how to tell the truth through art, and how to step into someone else’s shoes. It is where they find community when they do not feel like they fit anywhere else.

So when a show is canceled, especially after weeks or months of rehearsal, work, and emotional investment, you are not just adjusting a schedule. You are breaking hearts. You are breaking trust. And you are sending a very loud message to every student involved: your voice does not matter.

Let us be very clear. These cancellations are rarely about actual harm being done. They are not about violations of policy or legal concerns. They are usually about optics, about fear of controversy, about adults being uncomfortable with themes they do not want to deal with, race, sexuality, religion, gender, politics, grief, trauma, identity.

But you know who is not uncomfortable with those things? The students. They live them. Every day. They are not confused by tough subject matter, they are hungry for the chance to process it, talk about it, and express it in a way that feels honest. Theatre gives them that chance. So when adults rush in to “protect” them from material that might challenge or upset someone, what they are really doing is projecting their own fears onto kids who already know more than we think.

And the most devastating part? These cancellations often happen at the last minute. After the set is built. After the lines are memorized. After the tickets are sold. Sometimes even during tech week. And when that happens, what lesson are students supposed to walk away with? That art only matters until someone complains? That it is better to stay quiet than speak truthfully? That their work is disposable if someone with power decides it is too risky?

Now think about other school programs. Would an administrator cancel a football game the day before kickoff because the opposing team’s name made someone uncomfortable? Would a principal forfeit a soccer season midway through because a parent objected to the team uniforms? Would the school pull a student out of a science fair because their project involved climate change or evolution and might offend someone? Of course not. That would be absurd. People would riot. There would be meetings and fundraisers and local news coverage.

But when it is the school play? Silence. Or worse, excuses.

This is about more than just one show. It is about a pattern, one that is becoming more and more common. One that is chipping away at the purpose of arts education.

So to the administrators, school board members, and superintendents making these decisions, I ask you directly: do you understand the damage you are doing?

Do you understand what it feels like to put your whole heart into something and have it taken away because someone misunderstood a scene, or cherry-picked a line, or panicked about optics?

Do you know what message you send to a closeted student when you cancel a show that portrays a queer character with empathy?

Do you realize that when you silence students instead of standing beside them, you are modeling fear instead of leadership?

Because here is the truth: these cancellations leave scars. Some students will never audition again. Some will not trust adults in leadership the same way. Some will quietly stop speaking up. And some will walk away from the arts entirely, assuming it is not worth the risk.

And if you think I am being dramatic, well, yes. I am. That is kind of the point. Theatre is a space where drama is supposed to thrive. Where complex stories get told. Where kids get to wrestle with the world through creativity and courage.

So maybe, instead of pulling the plug when the content gets a little thorny, try pulling up a chair. Listen to your students. Trust your directors. Have the conversations. Protect the art, even when it ruffles feathers. Especially when it ruffles feathers.

Because the cost of canceling is higher than you think. And the kids? They deserve better than silence. They deserve a stage.