Something has changed within me, something is not the same
Or, why Wicked has a lot to teach us
I, like many of my peers, have spent a lot of the last few weeks singing the Wicked soundtrack at the top of my lungs at any given opportunity. The latest of those opportunities was at a dear friend’s birthday dinner party, where we collectively belted out ‘Defying Gravity’ (minus the very patient partner who took on the role of table clearer/ videographer).
But that’s not all that happened that night.
In my last piece, I had glibly joked that my current obsession with systems change makes me a real hoot at parties. Well, it seems I had a vision almost like a prophecy, because at this particular event I managed, as I always seem to do these days, to bring up the polycrisis multiple times and in relation to almost every topic of conversation.
Not the best birthday chat.
I spent the day after the dinner reflecting on my current struggles to be in the moment with friends and family and my tendency to really bring the vibe down. As someone said, very justifiably at 11:30pm, “Olivia, I’m just really not in the mood for a lecture on systemic collapse right now.”
And, to be fair, who is ever in the mood for a lecture on systemic collapse?
And who am I to lecture anyone, especially the people closest to me whom I love dearly? One of the most frustrating parts about the systems we’re in is that people are already just desperately trying to keep their heads above water, and they can’t take on the weight of the world for risk of drowning. Which leaves very little time to imagine what could be different.
What they don’t need is their friend who sends pictures from Brighton beach on a random Wednesday morning telling them that they should really opt out of the rat race. They have mortgages to pay, family members to look after, and work responsibilities that aren’t going to just disappear.
It’s not easy or obvious to know what any of us should be doing, and hearing over and over again that we exist in a broken system isn’t particularly helpful.
So why do I keep feeling so compelled to say it? Especially when I know that what actually helps people to make changes is to provide them with viable alternatives that are enticing, enjoyable and relatively easy to implement.
What Wicked is really about
These were the thoughts I was mulling and berating myself with the next morning. To cheer myself up, I put ‘Defying Gravity’ on again (obviously), and suddenly I felt on top of the world, dancing through life, genuine euphoria coursing through me - aided of course by the day’s cold shower.
Which got me thinking, doesn’t everyone want to feel like Elphaba as she soars into the skies above Oz: empowered, leaping into the unknown and flying free? Isn’t that the state in which you feel at your most joyful, emboldened, and able to take risks and try new things?
And, crucially, what’s more likely to make you feel that way? Feeling judged, defensive and annoyed as your friend tells you about the latest dire stats from the IPCC? Or standing round a dinner table with your best friends singing at top volume “together we’re unlimited”.
I think the answer is pretty obvious: who doesn’t love dire stats? Only joking, most people aren’t motivated and inspired just by hearing something baa-ahd. Sorry, bad.
Those among you who are not musical theatre fans might be thinking “what the fuck is an Elphaba?”. You might also be thinking that some of the phrasing in this piece is slightly odd, rather than realising that I’m actually a lyrical Easter egg genius - and that’s okay, just follow my lead.
Elphaba is the green witch and leading character in the musical Wicked, which has recently been made into a film starring Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo and is therefore very actively back in popular consciousness. It’s based on a book of the same name, written in the 90s, that explores the backstory of the witches of Oz in a darker take on the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz.
I happen to be an enormous musical theatre fan (I know, I know, don’t act so surprised) and have liked Wicked since I first saw it as a teenager. But relistening to it these past couple of weeks I have come to realise quite what an important message it has, and that its cinematic release couldn’t be more timely (given that we’re now in the Age of Aquarius and Trump is about to enter the White House).
I’ve always known that, at its core, it’s a story about somebody who is different and therefore misunderstood, ostracised and has to find her power from within rather than from external validation. An important message.
It also contains some truly top tier songs and lyrics, and all sorts of lessons about inequality, love, fear, power and friendship. AND it gave us the legendary pop culture moment where John Travolta introduced its original Broadway star Idina Menzel as the “wickedly talented Adele Dazeem”. What’s not to like?
In all seriousness though, as I sang the words “something has changed within me, something is not the same, I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game” for what might well be the five hundredth time in my life, it all suddenly felt much more meaningful. Whose rules are we all playing by? And how different does my life feel having asked myself that question.
This was only compounded when I finally went to see the film in the cinema. The person I was with knew next to nothing about what they were about to experience but ended up sitting next to me, somewhat speechless from the power of what we’d just witnessed.
Because what Wicked is really and truly about is how we respond to facism.
Don’t be a munchkin
This may elicit some groaning of, ‘I thought this piece was all about not ruining enjoyable things for people by making them about civilizational collapse’.
Oops?
Really though, this piece is actually about two things: one, why storytelling and communal experiences are the most powerful ways of igniting a desire and ability to change, and two, why we all need to be less munchkin.
Let’s expand on the argument that Wicked is actually about facism. I am in no way the only person talking about this. From Elle Magazine to this great piece from Upworthy, a quick google will take you to plenty of interesting analysis of why this film is so important at this particular historical juncture.
For those of you unfamiliar with the plot of Wicked, briefly, it’s the story of how the Wicked Witch of the West (Elphaba) and the Good Witch of the North (Glinda) actually knew each other well before the events of The Wizard of Oz. They meet at university, go from enemies to friends (or lovers depending on how much fanfiction you choose to read), but ultimately choose very different paths into adulthood once they discover how corrupt the Wizard’s regime is.
The Wizard is a populist who only pretends to have magic powers to stay in control and who is systematically removing the rights of the animals of Oz, ominously stating, “the best way to bring folks together is to give them a real good enemy.”
Armed with this knowledge, Elphaba chooses not to accept the Wizard’s offer to join him, in the process eschewing any chance she had of social acceptance. Glinda on the other hand chooses to continue on the path of popularity, allying with the Wizard and accepting the blatant discrimination she’s witnessed in order to preserve her own sense of safety.
One of the things that makes Wicked particularly powerful is that it doesn't pretend stepping out of broken systems is easy or guaranteed to lead to meaningful change.
Elphaba's choice to resist isn't simply about being "good" - it comes at an enormous personal cost. She loses her best friend, her place in society, and ultimately has to fake her own death to escape persecution. And along the way, many people are inadvertently harmed by her actions.
Meanwhile, Glinda's choice to work within the system isn't simply "evil" - part of her believes she can do more good from a position of influence. But on her journey she also loses her best friend, her lover and has to bear the cost of living inauthentically.
Both witches make understandable choices given their circumstances, which reflects the real complexity of how we all navigate corrupt systems.
This complexity feels particularly relevant now. As we face rising authoritarianism and environmental collapse, we're all having to make choices about how to respond. Do we work within existing institutions to try to change them? Do we step outside and risk losing social capital, career progression, relationships? And what if, like Elphaba, we make enormous sacrifices and still don't achieve the change we seek?
But there’s one thing that’s worse than making either of those difficult choices: being a Shiz University student, an Emerald City resident, or a munchkin. These characters represent the majority who never question anything, who simply accept whatever narrative they're given and dance along to whoever's in charge.
At least both witches are making conscious choices about their response to corruption. They're engaging critically with the world around them and taking responsibility for their role in it.
And they get all the best songs.
A very wicked Christmas?
Which brings me back to where I started.
The cultural conversation that has been ignited through this movie musical has an emotive power that could never be achieved through an IPCC report. You can’t stand in the shower and belt out: “The transformation of terrestrial and ocean/coastal ecosystems and loss of biodiversity, exacerbated by pollution, habitat fragmentation and land use changes, will threaten livelihood and food security.1”
Well, you probably could in my house, but even so, it’s a little tricky to get your mouth around.
What you can very easily do is go to the cinema, have a wonderfully moving experience and then chat about it with your friends. And then have a few too many margaritas and sing:
“I'm through accepting limits
'Cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change, but 'til I try, I'll never know.”
And feel deeply connected to our embodied selves and to each other.
So.
Stories and our experiences of them, whether individual or collective, help us to engage with issues in the world around us in a completely different way to facts and figures. Especially when those stories give us examples of alternative action, like choosing principle over popularity and in the process learning how to fly.
It is perhaps no accident that this particular message comes to us through the medium of musical theatre, a space that has long provided refuge and expression for marginalised voices, particularly women and the LGBTQ+ community. These are communities that have always had to navigate complex choices about working within or challenging systems of power, about when to speak up and when to play along. They understand intimately what it means to be marked as 'different' - or even 'wicked' - for simply being who they are.
That's why the success of the movie and the conversation it has started feels so timely and gives me so much hope. As we face our own Wizard of Oz moments - leaders who establish and maintain their power by giving us "real good enemies" - we need stories that help us imagine different choices.
So, friends, family, acquaintances, rest assured that I have learned my lesson, I have been changed for the better. This Christmas you won’t be subjected to lectures on systems collapse.
Instead, you’ll be watching me borrow my nephew’s halloween costume broomstick and hat and singing at top volume. I’m sure that was what you all wanted.
And as for those of you unlucky enough to be missing out on spending Christmas day with me, I want to leave you with this: how can you create more spaces where you can feel the exhilarating emotion of singing the lyrics to ‘Defying Gravity’ deep in your chest?
Because ultimately, you'll have to decide: Are you going to be Glinda, working within the system in full knowledge of its flaws? Elphaba, choosing principle over popularity? Or are you going to be a munchkin, letting others make the choices that shape your world?
Most importantly I want you to ask yourself: how can we all change, just a little bit, for the better?
IPCC_AR6_WGII_FactSheet_Biodiversity
Verry interesting. I was at a get together of the cousins an one said, just before going outside where the party was moving, don't say anything that makes me feel bad. I stayed inside and thought about it. They are all either munchkins or the "good witch". I've decided that was my last cousins party. I really am past the point of just being quiet.
Another brilliant piece Olivia, very funny, thought provoking, moving, and inspiring at the same time 👏