What will Philly look like in 25 years? These kids wrote plays about the changes they want to see.
"It's freaking amazing," one student playwright said of seeing her work on stage, brought to life by professional actors.
Angel Okeke, a junior at the Academy at Palumbo in Philadelphia, wanted to make sense of the loss of her best friend’s brother to a tragedy spurred by gang violence.
Rut Pendygraft, an eighth grader at Welsh Valley Middle School in Narberth, felt pulled to explore how restorative justice could reshape the criminal court system.
Avigail Wus, a junior at Pennsbury High in Fairless Hills, hoped to examine how the public, the media, and courts interact with survivors of sexual assault.
They are among a group of students who spent nearly a year thinking, researching, and writing about changes they want to see in Philadelphia. This month, their work culminated in professional performances of their original plays.
“It’s freaking amazing,” Okeke said.
The possibility of performance
The student work is part of What Now: 2026, a new arts festival marking the country’s Semiquincentennial. When the festival was in the planning stages, Madeline Charne, director of education and programs for Philadelphia Young Playwrights, said she knew youth voices ought to have a place.
That is how PYP’s Civic Theater Project was born.
Charne said she wanted students “thinking about how theater itself can create social change, not just be about social change.” She prompted students to imagine Philadelphia 25 years in the future, to dream about what should be changed, and to see their work as the beginning of that shift.
“Creativity and art and performance — that’s what has the possibility to make people actually listen,” said Charlie McGeehan, a Philadelphia School District civics teacher who worked as a PYP teaching artist.
Kids thought so, too. For every spot PYP had in the process, it received roughly five applicants. Eventually, five young people signed on: Okeke; Wus; Pendygraft; Harmonee’ Summers, who attends Springside Chestnut Hill Academy; and Maroua Benfadhla, a student at Science Leadership Academy.
The young playwrights had to commit one day a week to their work — researching and refining ideas, interviewing change makers around the city, committing to their eventual topic, writing, editing, critiquing one another’s work, and even casting their plays.
The works the five eventually produced were a revelation, McGeehan said — powerful, smart, and character driven. They were presented in staged readings at the Louis Bluver Theatre in Center City.
The right rooms, the right resources
On a sweltering Wednesday this month just before the students’ work debuted, they gathered at the theater for a final run-through.
The playwrights sat in chairs, eyes fixed on the actors in front of them. The actors performed the plays without sets or costumes, just reading scripts on music stands and allowing the audience to take in the power of the young people’s words.
The moment Summers first heard professional actors reading words she had written, it stopped her cold.
“It is so cliche to say it’s magical, but it feels different when your words are literally jumping off the page‚" said Summers, whose play is called The Double K Show. It chronicles two young women’s rise to stardom and the effect substance use has on their lives, and was shaped by events Summers observed growing up in North Philadelphia and attending an elite private school.
Part of the students’ process was finding resources that might help with the issues they tackled — from recovery and housing assistance organizations to groups that support survivors of sexual assault.
Pendygraft, whose mother, Letitia Stein, is an editor at The Inquirer, is a PYP veteran and the only middle schooler in the group. She said she was inspired by The 57 Bus, a book she had read about the ripple effects of a crime committed by one teenager against another.
“The criminal court has a long history of being complicated and a little corrupt and biased,” Pendygraft said, but restorative justice — the theme of her play — would go a long way toward repairing harm.
Wus said she used the motif of the Salem witch trials as “a critique about the way stories of sexual assault have been commodified into entertainment.” It was a powerful exercise in using her voice, she said, made stronger by the magic of real performers.
“These actors, they’re the people you see on TV — they are so talented,” Wus said. “Hearing my words out loud has allowed me to make revisions to make my script feel more real. It’s probably one of the best writing experiences I’ve ever had.”
Okeke, who wrote Echoes Beyond Shut Doors about the loss of Naim Castleberry, her best friend’s brother, said she struggled for a time with the idea that her ideas would go nowhere.
“It felt very daunting to tackle such big issues. Often, I feel like I feel small as a young person in Philly. I have this doubt, ‘how much of an impact can I really make?’” Okeke said. But she powered through, with words — and the experience was transformative.
“Us youth really have good things to say if we’re put in the right rooms with the right resources,” she said.
