A child doesn't want the shoes with LED blinking lights. 

Part of 'Playwrights Say Never Again to School Shootings' curated by playwright Rachael Carnes.

Written for Gun Control - Protest Plays Project.

1 Gender-Neutral, any race, any size, ages 6-8.


Production History


Development History

Reading, Gun Control Theatre Action, Minnesota Theatricals, Phoenix Theater, Minneapolis, MN, 2018.

Reading, Protest Plays Project, Nu Sass Productions at the Pinch, Washington DC, 2018.

Reading, Gun Control Theater: A ReACT Reading, Anderson Sculpture Garden, Focal Theatre Lab, Ames,IA, 2018.

Reading, Playwrights Say No More Shootings, Commonwealth Theatre Center, Louisville, KY, 2018.

Reading, Playwrights Say #neveragain to School Shootings, Cedar Rapids Theatre Company @ RHCR Theatre, Cedar Rapids, IA, 2018.

READING, Playwrights Say Never Again: Staged Readings, The Palace Theater, Chattanooga, TN, 2018.

Mr. Wyndham exposes our current state with minimum effort, creating both a heartbreaking story and an adorable window into childhood innocence. Even if that innocent is compromised by today’s threats. Bravo!
— Nelson Diaz-Marcano
I felt this play in my heart. Wyndham demonstrates control over the dynamic ebb and flow of the script. Building you up with a lighthearted jaunt through a mall to go shoe shopping for back to school, only to let a wave crash into you as you realize the young child’s reasoning for the shoe they want. Suddenly, innocence is lost in a single moment.
— Rachel Bykowski
Making raw and uncomfortable and all-too present the conversations parents have with their children every day about living defensively in this world where gun violence is an ever-present threat. This piece, featuring a child actor, would be a profound gift to any stage.
— Rachael Carnes
A child’s logic, by miracle, mystery, or mercy, is usually difficult to argue. Adults will introduce the concept of, “Well, when you’re older,” in order to exert or exercise some social construct of authority. The child’s sense in Wyndham’s shattering monologue stops us cold. Our society’s youth is taking stock of its surroundings. Why do they have to survive this, why is the central subject here part of their performance, part of their integration, their education? This is an agonizing, confounding, distressing, frustrating, deceptively simple work. Honor the children. Listen to the children. What? Are you too afraid to argue?
— Ricardo Soltero-Brown