Dylan, from I Think I Like Girls, by Leigh Fondakowski

DYLAN. (trans man, trans masculine)

I. There’s this – Home-Ec teacher that I had. And we’re having to create these – you know, I wanted to be in Industrial Arts, you know, I wanted to be building things, you know, but instead, they’re trying to teach me to sew and cook, and – I’m just not interested. And so, one of projects were – we had to make these little initial pillows, you know. So, of course, I’m supposed to make a “D,” you know, for Daphne. (He giggles) But my Father, you know, is totally not around, and he’s supposed to be taking me to the store to get all my fabric, and my thread, and my, uh, thimble, or whatever it is that you need. And uh, (pause) my friends and very – you know there’s something about the suburbs, especially, I think in the Midwest. Just kids really kind of stuck together, you know. And you understood, just different problems in different homes. And so, you know, my friends, or even people that weren’t my friends, were – just giving me their scraps, like you know, “It’s cool, you know, don’t let it bother you that your Father’s not getting it, we’ll just give you this stuff – and it’s like fine.” But every single day this teacher would be like, “When are you going to get your stuff, when are you going to get your stuff?” And I’m like, “Listen, I’m not going to get my stuff. Look, I have all this stuff – so it’s going to be a patch work “D” – isn’t that more cool?” You know? But it wasn’t good enough for her. She just kept up – like she was just nagging me everyday.


Finally, one day, I was like, “Forget this.” And I started like throwing my stuff across the room. Like, you know, I threw my thimble to the one girl, you know, who gave me the thimble, I threw my thread back to the one person – so I’m like whipping my stuff all over the place. Not in a – thoroughly violent sort of way – it was pretty casual. But, you know, I’m getting my point across anyway. And um, the teacher walks up to me and says you know, Are you ready to go to the principal’s office?” And uh, (he exhales – “phew.”) And I remember just looking at her, and I don’t – I don’t really know where the idea came from, but I slapped her SO hard across the face. And um, and just looked at her and said, “Now, I’m ready.” And then I walked out – without a pass, okay. It wasn’t like I – I wasn’t just this out of control person that, um, (pause) you know haphazardly would just like (pause) run around and, you know, like – do stuff to people, you know. It was always – I always felt like I only responded when people pushed me.


I firmly believe that there are only two reasons that a child gets gets targeted for the system. It’s either they are responding very sanely to being sexually, physically, or emotionally abused. Or, they’re not acting appropriate for their gender. There’s really no other reason. And um, in both those situations, we make this huge mistake of blaming the child, you know. When they’re acting very sanely, you know, they’re having a totally appropriate reaction to being mistreated.

Context: Dylan used to be called Daphne. He reflects on the Home Ec class he was forced to take in middle school.

More information: https://newplayexchange.org/users/2967/leigh-fondakowski


Roland/Laureline, from Cercle Hermaphroditos, by Shualee Cook

Roland/Laureline: Tell me something first.  Before tonight, did you know there were others like Ambrose? Then, so far as you knew, he was a complete anomaly. And back when you supported him, you quickly found out you were alone too? I spent most of my youth that way. Only child. Only one I knew who couldn’t take their body for an answer. I did my best to hide that difference. Tried for a while to fight it. But then I discovered that it gave me special powers. My tongue could explain men and women to one another in a way each understood. My eyes could detect an invisible burden on someone’s back, or a secret in their heart. And most importantly, my face was etched with an openness to outcasts that only they could see. People felt safe in my presence. Would reveal themselves to me. Tell me things they’d never whispered to another soul. It’s then I saw that Loneliness, this monster hovering over my whole life, was a horrible liar. There is no such thing as aloneness. Only isolation caused by fear. There will always be someone who feels on the outside too, and understands. The trick is to find them. So that became my mission. I made connections, quiet introductions, weaving misfits together into one great colorful tapestry. You wanted to listen to who I am? Well, here it is, far more precise than man or woman or androgyne.  I am a knight in the war against Loneliness. Wherever I find it, I push back and make a family. I am a recruiter in the campaign for the meek to inherit the earth. I am a warrior of the unity of God. What is or isn’t beneath my skirts will always be secondary to that.  So you’re welcome here, Bertram. And free to be whatever version of yourself you wish.

Context: Cercle Hermaphroditos tells the story of a real-life social club for gender misfits in New York City in 1895. Roland/Laureline, the founder of the club confides to Bertram, who has just discovered that the gender-bending games he used to play with his younger sibling Violet/Ambrose were more serious than he thought, and is trying to understand this new world he finds himself in.

More information: https://shualeecook.com/

XLucidenialX, from An Invatation Out, by Shualee Cook

XLUCIDENIALX: (genderqueer) I don’t agree with what you said.  I admired it, which is far better, if you ask me. Admiration is the highest form of jealousy. Agreement is just an excuse for people to switch off their brains. You were right in saying that people use the Nets to hide from reality, but you went wrong in supposing they could ever succeed at it. Even if we came here to avoid it, we still have real thoughts, real desires, words that stir real emotion from those who hear them. Yes, this floor is merely an illusion. But reality haunts our every artificial step. It’s true that we never grow up the way you do – we live sheltered lives, free of accidents and miracles. We are seldom surprised and never bewildered, and our souls are poorer for that. But do you truly believe humankind would give all of that up if there were not something just as precious to be gained? Being our whole selves. Go on and laugh, but I can prove it to you. Tell me, if we were unplugged right now, and I didn’t like your appearance, would I come this close to you, or put my arm around you like this? And if you knew for certain I was a different type than you like, or a different gender, would you let me? So there you have it. If I am attracted, it’s not to pheromones, or the color of your eyes, which you really had nothing to do with. I am attracted to the choices you’ve made. If I say ‘you are so beautiful, Raskin’, I don’t mean your appearance, but who you are. For in here, there is no barrier between our souls. We both know this isn’t a hand, but my desire to reach out and touch you. And when I do, it isn’t your body I connect to. It is your bravery. Your goodness. Your bright simplicity of spirit. When two people kiss, it is not their lips that touch. It is their hope. Their want. Their desperate longing to be known. And is that any less real for being online?

Context: An Invitation Out takes place in a future where the middle and upper classes live entirely as online avatars in a neo-Victorian world of their own devising. In this scene XLucidenailX, a genderqueer A.I. designer, tries to convince Raskin, an “Outdweller”who still lives mostly in the physical world, that their reality isn’t as shallow as Raskin initially thinks.

More information: https://shualeecook.com


Quinn, by Asher Wyndham

QUINN (non-binary, gender-fluid, trans) Yeah, it’s me, I’m back. Hellooo. I’m not waiting anymore in my car. I’ve eaten I don’t know how many tangerines. Let me see my grandpa. Please. It’s been almost an hour and I know he doesn’t take this long to get ready in the morning. Have you sponge-bathed him? Is he dressed in his purple suit?  Is he ready or not?! Why are you giving me the silent treatment, pretending that you’re on the phone… Today is our day, you know that. It’s the one day of the month he gets to see the sailboats and eat a BBQ-pork sandwich. He’s leaving with me in five minutes, and I don’t care if his dentures are yucky. Can you buzz me in? Stop buffin’ with that emery board and press that button. Ahh! It’s like Fort Knox here! Why, why are you looking at me like that? “Like whatttt?” If I had a mirror… Yeah, I got an attitude. You and everyone here at this Senior Citizen Home, you’re..not pleasant. No, you’re– I’m biting my tongue. *My pierced tongue.
(Sticks out pierced tongue.)
Let me through. When I need to see my grandpa, you shouldn’t make something up, like, “He’s not ready.” I know what you’re up to. And I’m not being paranoid. Look, it’s me, his grandkid. Yeah, yeah, I’m a bit different from the last time you saw me. Got some color. But I’m still his grandkid. He’s seen me like this before. My mother showed him photos on his phone. He’s from another generation, but he can handle it, unlike some people… For a Christian place, you lack hospitality! Ask yourself this, would Jesus buzz that buzzer? He would. He would get off that cross right above you, and he’d carry me like a baby to my grandpa’s room. Ahh! I’m helping my mom pay for his residence! So buzz the fuckin’ buzzer! Nowww!
*If the actor doesn’t have a pierced tongue then remove this line.
Context: This monologue was written for this website. Let me know when you use this for audition by emailing me at asherwyndham@yahoo.com. Thanks!


Slade, from Fabulous Monsters, by Diana Burbano

SLADE. (they/them) I’ve read a ton of books describing the whole Punk scene, ya know? But, the ones writing the history are the poser assholes who made it out alive. And it’s like, a mandate, to slagpeople off. ‘specially women like Patti and Debbie. Jesus, when don’t you read that Debbie “got fat?” Everyone “got fat,” man. We had no money to buy food, what money we had we spent on drugs, and one show burnt about a million calories. Start acting like a norm, and the weight piles on pretty fast. I recently saw a dude I knew walking outside what used to be Ed’s in DTLA. He lived in a loft, but not one of those yuppified Toy District lofts, he lived in a flophouse on the edge of Chinatown. The place was CRAMMED with junk. Clothes in piles to the ceiling. Cat shit everywhere. He had 3 gold records covered in dust and God knows what. He spends most of his time in bed playing Call of Duty. Fat. We’re all fat and poor now, man. We signed away every right we had. This shit just fizzles out. You’re young, you play your guts out. You spark, someone wants to record you! You tour, you cut an album. Path diverges: You burn out and go back to school. Or you die of an overdose. Or you tour some more. Path diverges. Touring sucks so you quit. You kill yourself. Or you cut another album. No one buys it. You quit and go do something else. Or you kill yourself. Ad infinitum. It’s either death or normality. If you are the one-half of the one percent who keeps going it’s ‘cause you’re fucking crazy.

Context: Slade (formerly Sally Rodriguez) is a hard living, seen it all punk rocker from the 70’s, alive, sober and cynical as hell. In this monologue, Slade is speaking to a young girl who is in love with them. This is close to the end of the play.

More info: http://dianaburbano.com/index.html


Sam, from Sidewinders, by Basil Kreimendahl

SAM. (Either, Andro) Sam! I sentence you to death for being a rearranger! I sentence you to another sentence of death for living in a tin wagon! I sentence you to another sentence of death for being a drunkard! I sentence you to another sentence of death for the misplacing of body parts on a Sandy! I sentence you to another sentence of death for sentencing yourself to death. The mode of death I sentence you to is hanging at the gallows. Have you any last words? I do not. Executioner!

More information: http://newdramatists.org/basil-kreimendahl


Nora, from Aphorisms on Gender, by Lane Michael Stanley

NORA. (non-binary, DFAB) Femininity is not bad. Womanhood is not to be avoided. It is hard not to think these things in our society. I was confused for a lot of reasons. I was confused because the same femininity that I found attractive in women was cause for alarm in myself. Was I secretly a misogynist, with assumptions about femininity meaning weakness stamped into my brain?

I didn’t think any harder about my own identity until a friend of mine from school came out as a trans woman. I hadn’t known her very well, but I respected her, and was as surprised as anyone else to find from Facebook that I had unknowingly misgendered her for four years. I was surprised by how much her announcement affected me.

To me, the word “woman” never felt right, and I thought it was because of how society used the word. To her, the word “woman” was freeing. Trans women fight for the right to use this word, and put themselves in danger to do so. Clearly the feel a strong sense of identity as women: there is no chance that they are just accepting what society hands them. I have only ever grudgingly accepted the label of woman; never hoped for it, never fought for it.

NORA. This is when the real questions start. I do not identify as a woman. I am not a woman. At some point, I have to say that out loud. When people describe me as a “pretty girl” or a “bright young woman,” it feels wrong.Just like when someone mispronounces your name: It’s close enough that you know who they’re talking about, but you don’t feel quite right responding, and you know that you’ll have to correct them eventually but you can’t quite bring yourself to do it.

And then you become invisible. When people look at you, they see something that is not you. And all of your invisible identities roll into one, and it’s hard to separate one from the other. When your gender is assumed, and not something you have control over.

NORA. The sound can be deafening with discomfort. And you carry the tones with you. If people tell you something enough times, you start believing it –  and the belief makes a sound.

When you are alone, still, there are too many sounds. Sounds made by the mirror, when you see a pretty girl looking back at you. Sounds made by memories, things you’ve been told must be true about yourself because of a few biological facts. Sounds made by the fear of anything else being the case.

The first step is figuring out which sounds are which. How can I tell which one is mine, which one is internalized, which one is stamped on my memory? 

Context: This piece centers around Nora, a non-binary person, as they struggle to determine their identity and navigate a world that often rejects the authenticity Nora strives for. In styling the piece as Aphorisms, or a series of passages and thoughts coming together to form a whole, Stanley speaks to the often fractured nature of identity and how we as humans go about determining it for ourselves.

More information: https://alicestanley.com/one-acts-and-projects

Pete, from Sensitive Guys, by MJ Kaufman

PETE. (gender non-conforming) I’m from wheat fields. Cattails. Rows and rows of trees. Long bus rides into the night. I’m from Dunkin Donuts Coffee Trees that lose all their leaves at once. No one ever said to me, what kind of man do you want to be when you grow up, I mean what kind of a MAN? I thought there was only one kind of man to be. That was my father. Who worked outside with power tools all day and wore plaid shirts. He and my mother would yell angrily and loud at each other and I really thought that was marriage. A symphony of yelling voices. My father would push and push and never let up and I thought that was being a man. A constant pushing. There was no one coming around to kindergartens saying this is how to be a sensitive man, someone who doesn’t push, who is not afraid to lose at a game or be small.  No one ever said that.No one. Ever. Except for you guys. Guys. Except for you guys. Oh man how I love you guys.  And Jordan, man. It was mostly Jordan who said it. Who said- what was it that you said that first day, man? Oh yeah. It was like it’s okay to be small. Like we are so small. And I’m still getting into that.  Really understanding that. Especially when I’m in a room with girls. Women, I mean. Women. When I’m in a room with women. I wanna impress them. I get like one of those birds with my feathers all puffed up. Those peacock-type guys? Yeah. I wanna show off all my colors. And I always make a bastard fool of myself  when I do that.

Context: Will is a freshman at Watson college. Jordan is a senior film major. Tyler is writing a novel for his thesis. They are all members of the Men’s Peer Education group. At meetings they spend hours unpacking questions like: “what is male privilege? And what can we do about it?” They love each other and the group. Until some accusatory posters start appearing around campus suggesting that a member of the group committed sexual assault. Could it be that even sensitive guys, guys working on their privilege sometimes turn violent or aggressive? In this play women and gender non-conforming people play men trying to understand the intricacies of masculinity and violence.

More information: https://newplayexchange.org/users/179/mj-kaufman


Katie, from Sensitive Guys, by MJ Kaufman

KATIE. (Woman or gender non-conforming) Oh right, sorry. We attempt to transform society through a three-pronged  program. One. Survivor support group. That’s us. We provide peer support and create programming to respond to each individual survivor’s needs. Two. Men’s peer education group. Those are our friends. And Three. Education for the public. Which both groups do together. Exactly what we’re doing right now. I know what you’re thinking! You’re looking at this and you’re like uh are the only people in the survivor support group women? Are the only people in the men’s peer education group men? And the answer is a RESOUNDING NO!! Sorry sorry I phrased that wrong, let me back up. What I really mean is are only women ALLOWED in the survivor support group? Are only men ALLOWED in the men’s peer education group? And the answer to THAT question is a resounding no. In practice, however, at the moment, the groups are largely uh gender segregated.

Context: Will is a freshman at Watson college. Jordan is a senior film major. Tyler is writing a novel for his thesis. They are all members of the Men’s Peer Education group. At meetings they spend hours unpacking questions like: “what is male privilege? And what can we do about it?” They love each other and the group. Until some accusatory posters start appearing around campus suggesting that a member of the group committed sexual assault. Could it be that even sensitive guys, guys working on their privilege sometimes turn violent or aggressive? In this play women and gender non-conforming people play men trying to understand the intricacies of masculinity and violence.

More information: https://newplayexchange.org/users/179/mj-kaufman


Ariela, from Charm, by Phillip Dawkins

ARIELA (Puerto Rican trans woman) I think it’s really great what you are doing for these kids, being like a role model to them? Mira, I’m 33 years old and I ain’t never had not trans people to look up to. I mean, my mami was accepting of me, and she give me all this freedom and stuff, but like I kinda wished I had somebody giving me boundaries, you know? Then, maybe I would not had had all my surgeries right away. Because like I thought there was only one way to be a woman, you know? And like I wanted to move out and live with my pimp and like–Jesus, if somebody had just told me “no”….So, yeah, I think you can really help these chicas. Like a lot.

Context: Charm depicts the colorful inner workings of an etiquette class taught by Mama Darleena Andrews, an African-American transgender woman, in an LGBTQ organization known as The Center. Despite her students’ daily battles with identity, poverty and prejudice, Mama’s powerful love and unapologetic attitude ultimately help her pupils find a new way to respect each other and to redefine what “having charm” means. Inspired by the true story of Miss Gloria Allen and her work at Center on Halsted, this new play carries a message of dignity and inclusion to all those it touches.

More information: https://newplayexchange.org/plays/52099/charm