We were lucky to catch up with Michael Cotey recently and have shared our conversation below.

Michael, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?

In 2018, I was in rehearsal when we got news of the Parkland school shooting. The room reacted as you might imagine: outrage, pain, sorrow. A lot of people asking, “How does this keep happening?” And then rehearsal resumed, almost like this horrific mass shooting never happened. This really bothered me. Have these events become so normal that putting on our play can feel more important than a mass shooting? I decided at that moment that our field needed to respond in a show of solidarity that, no, this is not normal. In the theater, we need material to rally around; a story to tell, but the material didn’t seem to exist.

Then, I saw what was coming out of Parkland: a powerful youth movement. Young kids marching for their lives and demanding action. Saying, “enough is enough.”

In 2019, I founded ENOUGH! Plays to End Gun Violence. ENOUGH! invites teens to submit short plays that confront the issue of gun violence and invites producing organizations across the country to present a handful of these plays in the community to spark critical conversations and inspire meaningful action. ENOUGH! has received nearly 600 short plays by teen writers. More than 140 organizations have participated in ENOUGH!’s three previous Nationwide Readings (2020, 2022, and 2023) to bring these plays to their community, involving nearly 3,000 artists and reaching more than 14,000 people.

Through ENOUGH! I’ve seen young, promising writers discover they have a voice and hone it through their remarkable plays. Communities who present those plays have remarked what a lasting impact they’ve had, especially on their young people who recognize that they were written by their peers. For some theaters, ENOUGH! has been an opportunity for them to forge partnerships with local social justice-oriented nonprofits, establishing meaningful and lasting relationships.

The goal is to create inciting incidents, moments where everything can change and real action is possible — for young writers, artists, and their communities.

While ENOUGH! was born out of a moment of frustration and feeling helpless, it has become the most important way I contribute — not just as an artist, but as a citizen and a father who wants a safer future for my two young sons.

And now, my story has intersected directly with the inciting incident that spurred me into action: Parkland. I work with activist Manuel Oliver, whose son Joaquin was shot and killed at Parkland, to help him tell his son’s story in a solo theater piece called GUAC,. Working with Manuel has brought me full circle in a way that is surreal, and I am honored to help him with the herculean task of bearing his soul night after night.

Michael, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

For a moment, my future life in the theater was anything but certain. I always felt most at home with an audience. When I was selected to do my eighth-grade commencement speech, and I learned I could make 400 people laugh, I became instantly hooked. I did theater in high school — playing a variety of old men, nerds, and the jerks in musicals who don’t sing and usually object to everyone else having fun. Then, I went to college at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and committed to a path of doing something more sensible, double-majoring in communications and journalism. While I was a freshman, a new acting conservatory program was launching, and I ultimately decided to hell with it — I’d always wonder “what if” if I never went for it.

Following college, I worked professionally as an actor locally in Milwaukee and regionally at summer Shakespeare festivals. I quickly became hip to the fact that I was not going to be content waiting for opportunities to come my way; I’d need to make them. That’s when I founded Youngblood with some classmates of mine and led the company for three years, shaking up the status quo of theater in Milwaukee by doing provocative work in found spaces (i.e., non-theater venues). This was also around when I realized that I enjoyed directing far more than acting and shifted focus.

When I almost shit the bed on one production (I won’t reveal which one), I learned there was much I didn’t know and that I’d like to figure out some of those things without the pressure of hunting for the next job. That’s when I got into Northwestern to pursue an MFA in Directing.

I am drawn to plays about people who feel trapped and the stories that might set them free. I feel most in my own skin when I’m in rehearsal, working on those plays with actors in the room. Watching. Observing. Trying to figure out why one moment feels true and another feels false. Trying to figure out why something elicits an emotion or where there is more depth to be mined in a moment, a word, or a gesture. Something about being that first essential audience member makes me present in a way that can elude me in regular civilian life. It requires that I be in the moment and observe what is happening right now.

If I could survey actors I’ve worked with on “what sets me apart from others,” I’d imagine they’d say something like, “he’s demanding without being an asshole, I’ve never worked harder, there’s always one more note for him to give give, and he’s a bit of a pain in the ass who created a generous environment where I’ve done some of my best work.” That feels accurate.

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

I’ll say that one I’m unlearning and will probably do so for the rest of my life is the fallacy that I’ll ever feel really “ready” for anything. My toxic trait is to continue to add more tasks and do more to prepare for a project because a part of me thinks that eventually, I’ll stumble upon something that will enable me to complete the task the “right way” or “perfectly,” neither of which are really attainable.

I think it is true when I say that any time I find myself ready for something, there is also no heat in the project. It is not stretching me to go beyond where I am. I am not curious. I am not learning. I am comfortable. I am safe. I am avoiding failure.

So — I’m trying to learn instead of how to be ready enough, meaning am I reaching a level of preparedness that will make me successful in fulfilling my responsibilities to my other collaborators and embrace, perhaps even delight, in the unknown of the rest, while not trying to pay any mind as to what the end result might be.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

Meeting and working with other creative minds, problem-solving together, creating something when there was once nothing, connecting dots together, and then experiencing those outside that process experience the work. Art connects people in both phases: creating and appreciating.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.michaelcotey.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mcotey
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/michaelcotey/
• Other: ENOUGH! Plays to End Gun Violence: www.enoughplays.com

  FB & IG: @enoughplaysproject