Last year, when I was pedalling round Edinburgh with my satchel bumping against my hip and flyers spilling out like confetti, Theatre Village had a clear focus. We spent the Fringe championing women — their voices, their stories, their wit, their anger, their joy. And it mattered. It still does.
But this year, as I’ve been sorting through envelopes, opening press releases, and listening to the stories people are trying to tell, it feels like the world around us has shifted again.
Across the pond, the language being used about people has grown harder. People spoken about as if they don’t belong. Called “aliens”. Treated like problems instead of human beings. Families split apart. Lives paused or uprooted. So much heartache wrapped up in words that make it sound tidy, when nothing about it is.
This year, Theatre Village is counterbalancing that rhetoric — not with shouting or slogans, but by choosing where we place our attention.
So as we shape our Fringe coverage, we’re focusing on people who are marginalised by some sections of society. People who are misjudged. People who are not always understood. People who don’t always get the benefit of the doubt, the biggest platform, or the loudest cheer.
Not because they need rescuing.
But because they have something to give.
Everyone does.
Some bring laughter. Some bring stories that stay with you on the walk home. Some bring uncomfortable truths. Some bring joy so unexpected it catches you off guard. Some bring lessons you didn’t know you needed. Entertainment, yes — but also insight, warmth, and humanity.
This year, Theatre Village is fighting for the underdog.
For the shows that might not always come wrapped in neat marketing language.
For the performers who don’t fit the mould.
For the voices that have been talked over, boxed in, or pushed aside.
We’ll be sharing their work with the wider world — not to define them by what they’ve faced, but to celebrate what they offer. Because Fringe, at its best, has always been about possibility. About what happens when people are given space, time, and an audience willing to listen.
And if there’s one thing worth delivering right now, tucked carefully into my satchel, it’s this:
Everyone has potential.
Everyone has value.
And the world is better when we make room for it.
See you in Edinburgh.
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