This past weekend, my wife and I went to Manhattan to see a few Broadway shows. The first show we saw was Suffs, which tells part of the story of the women’s suffrage movement in the US, from the Woman Suffrage Procession in 1913 through the ratification of the 19th amendment in 1920. We had planned the trip and bought our tickets before the election, but it hit very differently after the election than it would have had Harris won.

I have never cried so much from a piece of art. There are so many moments in this show that are inspiring and heartbreaking and so very relevant today. Doris Stevens, in the middle of describing how marriage is effectively a prison sentence for a woman, remarks “it’s 1916, how are women still treated this way?” That line got to me, in the middle of the erosion of women’s rights and constant attacks on trans people. It’s 2024, how are women still treated this way?

This show touched on many of the things I’ve been feeling for the last year or so about being a bystander. During the procession, there was a constant refrain of “I want my great-granddaughter to know I was here”, “I want my sister to know I was here”, “I want my mother to know I was here”, etc. It really made me think about the future and wonder if I was really comfortable telling my future children and grandchildren when they learn about the history of the 2020s that I sat and watched from the sidelines? At another point, Dudley Field Malone said the whole thing would’ve been so much easier if men stood up and did something at some cost to ourselves. This brought up a lot of feelings of wanting to do something, but having absolutely no idea what to do. I honestly have no idea where to start. Things I think I could do feel too small and things that seem important enough I don’t know if I’m capable of. I don’t know where I’m going to channel this, but this feeling will lead me to some action.

I really like that Suffs doesn’t hide from the issue of race in the suffrage movement. It brings up the intended exclusion of Black women from the 1913 procession, criticism of NAWSA for using Mary Church Terrell as a shield to avoid accusations of racism, and numerous times when Black women were told to wait their turn and let the white women have their progress. Toward the end of the show, there’s a great scene where Mary Church Terrell and Ida B Wells work through the conflicting emotions of celebrating the success of the passage of the 19th amendment while recognizing they still won’t be able to vote.

The feeling in the theater was something I’ve never felt before. There were so many instances where the crowd cheered in response to something particularly relevant that a character said, sometimes making the actresses pause before continuing. The best moment of this was during the Silent Sentinels protests, they decided they couldn’t be arrested for unpatriotic statements if they were quoting the president and unveiled a banner that said “We shall fight for democracy - President Woodrow Wilson” (in reference to entering World War I). Seeing that banner and cheering with a theater full of people, facing the threat of Trump’s second term and Project 2025, was incredibly moving.

The show ends with some discussion of the Equal Rights Amendment and a recognition that the work fighting for equality and progress will never be finished. The tagline of the final song is “progress is possible, not guaranteed”, an incredible summary of the show and call to action. It’s a shame this show is closing on Broadway in January, but there is a national tour starting late next year. We need this show as a reminder of what it takes to achieve progress and the power of building movements together.