What Suffs Has Taught Shaina Taub About Hope, Community, and Hard Work

When Joe Biden announced that he was dropping out of the 2024 presidential election in July, the cast of Suffs was getting ready to perform their Sunday matinee. The Broadway show’s creator and star Shaina Taub remembers the news alert coming in as she was doing her hair. Places were called, and that was all the information she knew heading into the day’s performance. 

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As the curtain rose, revealing a group of suffragists about to sing “Let Mother Vote,” the crowd began to chant Kamala Harris’ name. Suddenly, the two time-Tony winning musical centered on 20th century activist Alice Paul’s fight for women’s right to vote took on extra meaning. “We got to witness this American moment in such a visceral way,” says Taub, who plays Paul and wrote the book, music, and lyrics to Suffs. “In the live theater, where we’re all gathered, this valve got released, all this hope and energy that was dormant, and it just lasted the whole two and a half hours.”

Hope is also at the heart of Suffs, which traces the women’s rights movement over several years, culminating in the passage of the 19th Amendment. The journey of the suffragists is full of setbacks and frustrating moments—and it’s also a celebration of resilience and the power of working together. Taub, 35, began working on the musical over 10 years ago, which opened on Broadway in April, and is well versed in what it means to see something through to the very end.

In an interview, she discusses her changing relationship with work, what it was like to win at the Tony Awards, and how she’s preparing for an extra emotional show this November. 

TIME: So much of Suffs is centered on how long it actually takes to do work that creates meaningful change. When you’re staring down a project, and the road ahead seems a little overwhelming, how do you keep going?

Taub: I take comfort and a little bit of pride in discipline and ritual in terms of writing. For me, the only thing worse than feeling stuck in the writing, is not writing. When I was younger, a bad writing day felt like a waste. But now, I don’t see it that way. As long as I’m putting in the time and I’m being disciplined about sharing it with others, it undergirds my psyche to make it through the doubt. I’ve come to recognize the doubt and the fear as a pattern and as something to make friends with and not to try to push away.

Alice Paul is very dedicated to her work. How has embodying her changed your own relationship with work?

I connected with Alice over this disease of equating your self-worth with your productivity. It’s something I struggle with and that I want to change. I don’t think Alice ever gets over that condition. Suffs could be called “The Tragedy of Alice Paul.” Part of the reason I go later into her life, into the 1970s, is because I didn’t buy that she [didn’t have] a soulful revelation until that late in her life, until it was too late, when she was confronted with her younger self. When she realizes, “Oh, I’m not going to get everything done that I want to in my lifetime, and I have to pass that torch.” That’s something I feel acutely aware of, that my own output is going to be insufficient to the goals I set for myself. I want to have more of an understanding that I will not get to finish my work in my life, and that my work doesn’t have to define me.

There’s a fun musical number in the show, “Great American Bitch,” when the Suffs get together after they march for women’s rights in Washington D.C., and reclaim moments when men were awful to them. How did that song come to be?

As a songwriter, I always want to find the hook. They’d just been catcalled at the march. So I wondered, what’s an evergreen insult for a woman that could read both in 1913 and now? I didn’t want it to feel old-timey, but I didn’t want it to feel like I was imposing a contemporary term. “Bitch” is that beautiful, universal, evergreen gift that keeps on giving, in terms of a slur for a woman. It goes back centuries before our play even takes place. “Great American” popped into my head—it sings to me. I figured if I hang the hat of the song on that phrase and give them each a turn, I might have something.

In June, you became the first woman in history to win for both Book of a Musical and Score at the Tony Awards with no co-writing credits. What did that night mean to you?

It was completely surreal. This is my Broadway debut, and getting to Broadway was such an ordeal and hard won victory. As Jews, we say “Dayenu.” I got to the Tonys, Dayenu. This is so enough. To win that first time was a little out of body, and I had gone through a little bullet point list of who I wanted to thank, if I got the opportunity to go up there. I’m a preparer. But no part of me was prepared to give a second speech. That felt like such an exercise in vanity. I got up there, realized I was on national TV, and I was so unprepared. It was harrowing for me. I tried to remember all the years of being a kid watching the Tonys in rural Vermont—how this was my one window into this world I wanted to be a part of.

Sometimes it’s good to let yourself be unprepared!

It was a good, visceral experience for me to have to go through. What makes it so sweet is to be part of a team. When I won Best Score, my cast were all in costume, waiting outside Lincoln Center on a bus. They sent me a video later of when I won. They were all watching the Tonys on an iPhone. That’s one of my favorite memories from the night, knowing that they were there with me.

Hillary Clinton was also there that night and introduced the show. What’s it been like working with her as a producer of Suffs?

She’s been so generous, warm, supportive, and such a cheerleader of us. I had reached out to see if she would want to go on this journey with us before we had received any external markers of validation, and she said yes. When I was filled with a lot of fear and doubt about going to Broadway, knowing that she believed in us and that the story was important to tell gave me confidence. On a deeper level, she understands that theater is a public good that’s been here for centuries. That gathering to tell the stories of our history and culture is crucial for a healthy society to thrive. It needs to be funded, supported, and championed.

You’ll be performing in Suffs during the election. How are you preparing for those shows?

I’m in the show on election night, but the day after, no matter what happens, will be one of the most emotionally intense days of my life. I’ll be in the Suffs matinee, and then in the evening I’m going to perform in Ragtime at New York City Center, which is my favorite show. To get to have that visceral experience of being in those two houses on that day with both my piece and this piece that meant so much to me growing up, and that are both speaking to this moment in different ways, no matter what happens, that’s going to be a lot. I’m grateful to be in a community where we get to be in these spaces together. I know how lucky I am to have two amazing places to go on a day with such gravitas to it, and to get to work it out through an audience with people.

Hope is another big theme in the musical. How do you think about hope right now?

Hope in the Dark by Rebecca Solnit is one of my favorite books. She defines hope, and I’m paraphrasing, as an alternative to the simple certainty of both optimism and pessimism. Optimism is like, “I’m sure things are going to resonate, therefore I do not have to do anything.” Pessimism is like, “Things are going to suck and that absolves me from acting.” Hope locates itself in the space of “we don’t know what’s going to happen.” I read that early on in the Suffs writing process because it’s a book that our producer Rachel Sussman loves as well. I reread that essay before I wrote our new finale “Keep Marching.” That’s the hope I want to give—it’s not simple or unearned. Hope that none of us know how this election is going to turn out. It’d be easy to say “she’s going to win” or “she’s going to lose.” People love to say Trump’s going to win. I’m like, “where’s your crystal ball?”

You’ve had a lot of big names come see the show. Who has really excited you?

One really meaningful moment is that we had Ida B. Wells’ great-granddaughter Michelle Duster. She’s an amazing activist and author, and she met Nikki M. James, who plays Ida, and talked to us. Not a lot of characters that we portray have descendants, but Ida did, so having a living connection to one of our characters was really special.

Suffs is a really emotional show. How do you keep yourself from getting caught up in those feelings while you’re on stage?

I really have to take it in every night. Anytime I see someone wipe away a tear or grab the person next to them, or I get one of those letters from a high schooler who is writing their own musical, it fills me with a sense of peace that I’m really trying to hold onto. I know that I’m going to be back in the muck of sitting at the piano or the computer, banging my head against the wall, and feeling like what I’m writing is horrible. I try to be mindful. The payoff of the hard work can really be worth it.