Hi. Have you had anything to drink lately? What about a snack? Do you need a break? A stretch? How about a deep breath? Go ahead, I’ll take one with you. Inhale. Exhale. I’m Robin Berl. My pronouns are she/her. I’m a caregiver, playwright, director, dramaturg, educator, avid reader, frequent audience member, eager collaborator, and absolute fan of all things theatre. I write from the lens of a parent and mixed race woman of the CHamoru diaspora. In any role, I seek to create theatrical work at the intersection of care and art. I infuse care into the artistic process, making art that cares for the people who engage with it, and recognizing art as a form of care itself. This does not mean that I shy away from difficult truths. Rather, I investigate the impact of how a story is told, especially those involving the inherent violence of a capitalist colonial white supremacist patriarchal society. I ask, “How do we tell these violent stories? How do we share them? How do we carry them? And is there a way to do that safely? In a way that isn’t harmful or violent itself? To the actors. To the audience.” There are many things I cannot and will not do simply because someone else thinks it would make for a better story. I advocate against the tactics of shock value or “trauma porn”. I believe it is urgent and essential to the future of theatre to care for our artists, our audience members, and our characters. Theatre should not be a place to perpetuate violence.


In applying this ethos, I create stories that turn down the volume on what pop culture repeatedly shows us and then listens to the parts and people it often ignores. I write to investigate conflicts and high stakes that may occur in unexpected ways or places. I write to learn. I write to be left asking even more questions than I had when I started. I write to create a gentler, kinder theatrical experience infused with awe and wonder. I write to hold hands with characters through their most vulnerable moments, becoming a channel for them to express every urgent and necessary truth of those moments. My plays traverse a vast emotional scope where audiences can feel the humanity of every character and more acutely feel their own humanity as well. I write deeply feeling women who care, cry, cuss, shit, laugh, scream, break, build, love, and fight both fiercely and gently. I write to see myself on stage. I write to take up space and then to make even more space for everyone else who deserves to see and be seen in White American Theater. I write what I can and what I know and I work to see more BIPOC, 2SLQBTQIA, disabled people in the rooms creating theatre, on the page, and on the stage. I write to build something together.