Here’s how I think about diving into playwriting, especially when it comes to exploring identity. For me, the whole point of a powerful play is when it really digs into what it means to be human. I find that audiences are drawn to stories that wrestle with belonging, growing, changing, or even refusing to be put in a box. When a play really nails identity, it’s not just about what a character says they believe; it’s about the deep-down changes happening inside them, the things pushing on them from the outside, and the battles they’re fighting within themselves that truly define them.
This isn’t about making a quick sketch of a character. I’m talking about building worlds where identity is the central, pulsing question. It’s the thing driving the whole conflict, revealing truths, and staying with you long after the lights go down.
What Identity Means in a Play: It’s More Than Just a Bio
When I think about identity in a play, I’m not just checking off boxes like age, gender, or background. Of course, those are important starting points. But where the real magic happens is in how these things are experienced by the character – how they’re challenged, embraced, or even rejected. It’s about that inner world they build because of outside pressures, the masks they wear, the secrets they keep, and their fight to be real (or sometimes, how they comfortably stick with a constructed version of themselves).
Here’s a thought for us: Start with the basics of who your character is, then immediately shift to why and how that identity shows up when things get tough. What part of who they are is really on the line in the main conflict of the play?
Let’s sketch an example: Instead of just writing “Sarah is a devout Christian,” I’d ask myself: “How does Sarah’s deep faith clash with her daughter’s chosen lifestyle, forcing Sarah to truly rethink her understanding of what faith, family, and even she means?” Right away, you can feel that dramatic tension around identity, can’t you?
Digging Up Identity Through Conflict: The Hot Spot of Self
Identity isn’t a static thing; it’s shaped and refined when things get heated. A character’s deepest sense of self truly comes out not when they’re comfortable, but when their core beliefs, their sense of belonging, or their understanding of the world is challenged. The play itself becomes a place where identity is tested, broken, and maybe, just maybe, put back together.
The Inner Battle: That War Inside
The most powerful explorations of identity, for me, often come from internal struggles. This is when what a character says they are bumps up against their hidden desires, old hurts, or a new realization about themselves.
A tip I use: Figure out the main contradiction or paradox right at the core of your character’s identity. This kind of inner friction? That’s pure gold for drama.
Imagine this: A character seems like a rock in their community, embodying traditional values. But inside, they’re fighting with a secret desire that goes totally against those values. That leads to immense guilt and self-hatred. The conflict isn’t just about keeping the secret; it’s about their sense of self falling apart. I think about Walter Lee Younger in A Raisin in the Sun and his internal torment as he struggles with who he is as a man and provider versus his dreams of getting rich, which even pushes him towards some pretty questionable stuff.
The Outside Battle: Identity Against the World
Things like societal pressures, family expectations, legal systems, or even nature itself can put huge pressure on identity. How a character reacts to these outside forces really shows how strong, fragile, or adaptable their sense of self truly is.
What I try to do: Create an opposing character or force that directly threatens or challenges something crucial to my main character’s identity.
Here’s how it might look: A young immigrant character speaks perfect English, but they constantly face subtle digs that question how “American” they are. This forces them to navigate the tension between their new national identity and where they came from. Sweat by Lynn Nottage is a great example of how economic shifts and racial tensions in a small town can really chip away at people’s identities, making them question their place and relationships.
Relationship Conflict: Identity in the Mirror of Others
Our identity is so deeply shaped by the connections we have. How others see us, the roles we play in our families or social circles, and what loved ones expect from us can either strengthen or shatter our sense of self.
My approach here: Explore a significant relationship where each person has a different, maybe even conflicting, idea of the other’s identity, or where one character’s identity is mostly defined by their connection to another.
Think about this: A play focused on a tense relationship between a mother and her adult child. The mother still sees her child as they were at ten years old, which stops the child from being able to express who they are as an adult. The drama comes from the child fighting to be their true self against the mother’s fixed idea of them. Fences by August Wilson, among its many layers, really explores Troy Maxson’s identity as a father, husband, and Black man in America, and how his past and his views shape his relationships and directly clash with his son Cory’s dreams, shaping Cory’s identity in return.
Creating Characters Whose Identities Change: The Story of Becoming
A static identity usually doesn’t make for compelling theatre, in my opinion. The best plays show characters going through a transformation, truly understanding themselves more, or completely redefining who they are. This evolution is the character’s journey, and it’s always deeply tied to their identity.
Identity as a Roadblock: Where They Start
Every character begins somewhere. Often, their initial sense of identity, which might be limited or even false, is exactly what’s holding them back or causing the main problem in the play.
A question I always ask myself: Clearly define the protagonist’s initial identity, then immediately ask: “How does this identity stop them from getting what they desperately need or want?”
For instance: A character believes their identity is completely linked to their family’s long history and social status. This keeps them from pursuing their own, very different, artistic passion. Their pride in their background effectively becomes a prison they’ve built for themselves.
Identity Under Attack: The Spark and the Buildup
The inciting incident is what throws the character’s established identity into question. Then, as the story builds, it slowly chips away at it, forcing them to face uncomfortable truths about who they thought they were.
How I plan this: Design events that directly challenge the character’s self-perception, making them let go of old beliefs or roles.
Going back to our example: The character from before, whose identity is tied to family legacy, faces a financial crisis that threatens to destroy that legacy. This sudden moment of vulnerability forces them to re-evaluate what really defines them beyond inherited status. Or maybe they meet someone who lives authentically in a way that goes against all their family values, forcing a crisis of belief.
The Point of No Return: Facing the Real Self
This is the moment when the character can no longer avoid the truth about themselves or the need for change. They either have to double down on their false identity or bravely step into a new, often uncertain, understanding of who they are.
My goal here: Create a high-stakes scene where the character has to make a choice that permanently changes how they see themselves, even if they don’t fully grasp all the implications yet.
To continue our example: During the financial crisis, the character is offered a way out, but it means publicly going against a core family tradition they’ve always upheld. The choice isn’t just about money; it’s about their very existence.
Revelation and Redefinition: The Big Moment and After
The climax is where the character’s identity is truly formed or irrevocably shifted. The resolution shows what happens next – a new, more integrated identity (or, sometimes, a tragic failure to get there).
What I aim for: Make sure the climax isn’t just about external events, but about a deep, internal shift in the character’s identity. The ending should show this new identity in action, or what happens if they resisted change.
Visualize this: The character, having chosen to pursue their art and leave behind the family legacy, delivers a powerful artistic performance that’s a tribute to their true self, not their inherited status. Their final scene shows them embracing a new, simpler life, defined by passion rather than pedigree. I think about Hamlet’s journey, starting as a prince whose identity is wrapped up in his duty to his father, then his agonizing self-questioning, and finally, his tragic acceptance of his role in setting things right.
Dialogue: A Mirror and a Hammer for Identity
Dialogue, for me, isn’t just about giving information. It’s a powerful tool for showing, shaping, and challenging identity.
Uncovering Through What’s Not Said and What’s Avoided
Often, characters reveal their true identity more in what they don’t say, the topics they steer clear of, or how they deflect. Subtext is incredibly important.
How I apply this: Give my characters sensitive topics related to who they are that they consistently dodge or respond to with irrelevant comments. This shows deep discomfort or a hidden truth.
A concrete example: A character struggling with their sexual identity might constantly change the subject when a friend brings up dating, or use really vague language about their weekend plans. That specific avoidance speaks volumes about their inner conflict.
Challenging Through Questioning and Projection
Other characters can act like interrogators, forcing a character to articulate or defend their identity. They can also project their own biases or expectations onto someone, forcing that character to push back or give in.
What I try: Have a character directly question another’s identity in a way that forces a defensive, revealing, or even transformative response.
Imagine this line: “Why are you always so proper, Emily? Are you afraid of being real?” This direct challenge makes Emily either defend her “proper” identity or crack under the pressure, revealing a deeper insecurity.
Shaping Through Declarations and Performance
Characters actively declare who they are, often more for their own benefit or to convince others than just to inform. These declarations, whether true or just for show, are powerful statements of identity.
My technique here: Create moments where characters explicitly state parts of their identity, then either uphold or betray those declarations through their actions.
Let’s say: A character declares, “I am a man of my word, above all else.” Later, they face a situation where keeping their promise means a huge personal sacrifice. Their choice reveals whether this declaration is a true core belief or just a facade.
The Power of the Body and the Environment in Identity
Identity isn’t just about what people think or say. It’s deeply connected to the body, how it moves, dresses, and interacts with its surroundings. It’s also shaped by the places characters call home.
Identity Embodied: Posture, Movement, and Clothes
How a character carries themselves, their typical movements, and the clothes they choose send strong non-verbal signals about their identity, their confidence, their history, and what they hope for.
What I focus on: Specify detailed physical traits, movements, and costume choices that visually tell you about a character’s identity before they even speak. Make sure these elements change as the character’s identity arc unfolds.
For instance: A character burdened by societal expectations might always have slumped shoulders, even when alone. As they shed those burdens, their posture could slowly straighten, becoming more open and expansive. Someone who initially wears drab clothes to avoid attention might, as they find their voice, start wearing bold colors and unique accessories.
Environment as Identity: Home, Work, and Public Spaces
The places a character lives are not just backdrops; they’re extensions of identity. A character’s home, their workplace, or the public spots they frequent can reflect, reinforce, or even contradict who they are.
My approach to settings: Design environments that visually show aspects of the character’s identity, or that create tension with it.
Consider this: A character who prides themselves on being an intellectual might live in a house overflowing with books, but the chaotic mess of the piles might hint at an underlying neurosis. Someone who feels stuck in their past might live in a meticulously preserved childhood home, complete with outdated furniture, showing their struggle to move forward. The sharp contrast between a character’s private space and their public persona can also be dramatically illuminating.
Symbolism and Metaphor: The Deeper Layers of Identity
To really go deep, a play exploring identity needs layers. Symbolism and metaphor can elevate the exploration, helping the audience grasp abstract ideas of selfhood and belonging.
What I look for: Identify a recurring pattern, object, or natural element that can serve as a metaphor for a core aspect of your character’s identity or their struggle.
A good example: A shattered mirror could symbolize a character’s fragmented sense of self. A tough plant struggling to grow in harsh concrete could symbolize a character’s fight for authenticity in an unyielding environment. A specific piece of clothing, an old family heirloom, or even a particular song could represent a character’s inherited identity, and its loss or transformation could symbolize a significant shift in self. In A Streetcar Named Desire, Blanche Dubois’s insistence on keeping the lights dim is a direct metaphor for her inability to face reality and her clinging to a constructed identity.
Beyond the Individual: Group Identity and Its Impact
While individual identity is crucial, plays can also explore collective identity: what it means to belong to a family, a community, a nation, a gender, or an ideology. How individual identity is shaped by, or clashes with, group identity offers incredibly rich ground for drama.
The Pull of Belonging: Membership and Fitting In
Humans crave a place to belong. A play can explore the comfort and the limitations of identifying with a group, and the pressure to conform.
What I aim for: Create a tension where a character has to choose between their authentic individual identity and the safety/comfort of a group identity.
For example: A character from a close-knit, traditional religious community discovers beliefs or desires that fundamentally go against their community’s rules. The play explores the agonizing choice between being outcast (literally or figuratively) and betraying themselves.
The Weight of History: Identity Passed Down
Group identities carry historical weight – trauma, pride, injustice, legacy. How does this inherited identity shape the individual?
My focus here: Explore a character’s identity as deeply connected to their historical, national, or racial group’s past, and show how this affects their present choices and self-perception.
Consider this: A character dealing with the legacy of slavery in America, or the Holocaust, or the partition of their homeland. Their personal identity is informed, perhaps burdened, by the collective memory and ongoing effects of these historical events. The play Disgraced by Ayad Akhtar brilliantly dissects how a successful Pakistani-American lawyer continually has his public and private identities challenged by his religious and ethnic heritage, often to his detriment.
The Fight for Recognition: Marginalized Identities
Plays are powerful platforms for letting unheard voices speak – those identities often unseen or misunderstood by mainstream society. The struggle for recognition, for simply being seen and accepted for who you are, is inherently dramatic.
What resonates with me: Center your play around a character whose identity is routinely dismissed, mislabeled, or oppressed by the prevailing societal norms, and show their fight to define themselves on their own terms.
Think about this: A non-binary character navigating a world built on binary gender assumptions, constantly correcting others, finding chosen family, and asserting their true self in a landscape of misunderstanding and prejudice. Or a character with a disability fighting for their agency and self-determination beyond medical definitions.
Refining and Polishing: It’s All About Revision
Writing a play, especially one that digs into complex identity, is never a straight line. For me, it’s about adding layers, revising, and constantly asking deeper questions.
Relentlessly Questioning Your Characters
As I write, I constantly challenge my characters’ stated identities. I ask: “Is this truly who they are, or who they think they are? Who do others see them as? Who do they want to be? What parts of their identity are they hiding, even from themselves?”
What I do after drafting a scene: Review it specifically for identity reveals. Does current dialogue/action go against what I thought before? Is there a chance to deepen the internal conflict related to identity?
For example: You’ve written a scene where a character confidently says they’re independent. Reread it and ask: “Is there a gesture, a pause, a way of speaking that subtly undermines this confidence, hinting at a hidden dependence?”
Allowing for Ambiguity and Nuance
Identity is rarely black and white. Complex characters often embody contradictions, struggle with conflicting loyalties, and defy easy categorization. I try to embrace this nuance.
My advice here: Resist the urge to neatly tie up every aspect of a character’s identity. Allow for unanswered questions, moments of doubt, or characters who just are, without needing a full explanation.
Think about it: A character might find peace in a new identity but still sometimes long for parts of their old, discredited self. This makes them more human and keeps them from becoming a simplistic type. The power often lies in the audience’s interpretation of a character’s evolving identity.
Feedback Focused on Identity
When I ask for feedback, I specifically ask how my characters’ identities are perceived by my readers or audience. Do they understand the character’s inner struggles? Do they believe their stated identity?
How I frame my questions: “Do you understand what truly drives [Character X] on a core level?” “When does [Character Y]’s identity seem most challenged?” “Are there moments where [Character Z]’s identity feels fake or contradictory?”
In Summary: The Unfolding Self
For me, writing a play that explores identity is an act of deep empathy and thorough investigation. It’s about going beyond superficial traits to the very core of what makes us who we are, the forces that shape us, and that never-ending journey of becoming. By creating vivid internal and external conflicts, allowing for real character change, using the power of dialogue and physical expression, and embracing symbolic depth, I believe you can create theatrical experiences that truly resonate, reflecting the complexities of the human spirit and our universal search for self-understanding. Your play won’t just tell a story; it will unveil a soul.