More High Schools Should Be Doing Shakespeare. Here’s Why
(Photo: Ripon High School’s Much Ado About Nothing)
by Chris Peterson
Dear High School theatre directors, has your high school recently performed Shakespeare? And if not… why not?
Maybe the language feels intimidating. Maybe you’re worried the audience won’t show up. Maybe you think your students won’t connect to it. But I’ve seen what happens when young people take on Shakespeare, and I’m telling you, they are more than ready.
Shakespeare gives students something they don’t always get in high school theatre. Depth. Complexity. Language that demands focus. Characters that ask real emotional questions. His plays challenge actors to listen, to articulate, to explore human behavior with precision and empathy. And when students rise to that challenge, it’s thrilling to watch.
I wasn’t in AP English or obsessed with iambic pentameter. But I did appear in The Comedy of Errors in my sophomore year of high school, and it changed everything for me. I remember rehearsing those long strings of confusion, getting tangled in mistaken identity and slapstick, and suddenly realizing this wasn’t ancient literature. This was a farce. A comedy. A chance to be ridiculous and smart at the same time. I saw how alive it could be. How funny. How human. That experience made me feel like I belonged onstage in a whole new way.
And that’s the thing about Shakespeare. His themes hit hard, especially for teenagers. Romeo and Juliet is about first love and not being understood by adults. Macbeth is about ambition and the fear of failure. Much Ado About Nothing is about reputation and how fast rumors can spread. Twelfth Night is about identity and pretending to be something you’re not just to survive. These are not abstract ideas to high schoolers. These are their lives. And when they get to wrestle with those stories through performance, something clicks.
It’s not just the actors who grow. The crew thinks differently. Designers dig into metaphor. Stage managers handle complex blocking and high emotional stakes. Shakespeare pushes every part of the theatre program forward. The conversations get deeper. The commitment gets stronger. Everyone walks away with a sharper skill set and a greater sense of pride.
Too often, high school theatre sticks to what feels safe. Musicals with big casts. Comedies with familiar punchlines. There’s value in those, of course. But Shakespeare offers something else. A chance to stretch. To take risks. To earn applause in a different way.
It also sets students apart. When a young actor can speak Shakespeare with confidence, everything else becomes more manageable. College auditions. Monologue work. Voice and speech training. Even public speaking. Understanding Shakespeare builds skill, yes, but more than that, it builds confidence. It reminds students they’re capable of taking on something truly challenging.
And yes, students may struggle at first. That’s part of the point. Struggling through something difficult and coming out the other side is one of the most valuable experiences a student can have. Don’t underestimate them. Don’t lower the bar. Raise it and show them how to reach it.
Directors, you don’t have to be a scholar to bring Shakespeare to your school. You just have to believe in the material and in your students. Pick a story that excites you. Find a cut that fits your group. Talk about what it means to them now. Let your cast dig into the characters and play with the language until they make it their own.
Cut the text if you need to. Set it in space or a high school cafeteria if that helps. But don’t skip it altogether. Let students fall in love, start wars, tell jokes, and die tragically. Let them carry the weight of Macbeth or the heartbreak of Viola. Let them feel what it’s like to hold an audience with just the sound of their voice and the shape of a thought.
Shakespeare isn’t outdated. It’s foundational. It’s empowering. It belongs to everyone, especially young artists.
So ask yourself again. Has your high school performed Shakespeare? If not, maybe it’s time.