WHO LIVES? WHO DIES? WHO TELLS AMERICA’S STORY?
Art by Megan Radakovich
When former vice president Mike Pence attended Hamilton in 2016, he got called out from the stage. At the end of the show, actor Brandon Victor Dixon, who played Aaron Burr in the production, directly addressed Pence, urging the new administration to uphold America’s promise of diversity. The moment captured the paradox of a production celebrated for inclusion performed for a mostly affluent and white Broadway audience.
Ten years after its debut, Hamilton still reverberates as more than a Broadway musical. By telling the story of the nation’s founders through hip-hop with a racially diverse cast, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s musical reshaped how we talk about identity, power and belonging.
For all its radical energy, it was harder for Hamilton to be enjoyed by those who could not afford to be in the room (where it happens, if you will). Even with lotteries and student discounts, tickets ranged from about $150 to $849, and resale prices often hit the thousands, according to The New York Times, leaving Broadway’s most revolutionary musical out of reach for many.
The genius of the show lies in its claim about who really belongs in America’s story. Instead of painting the founders as flawless heroes, Hamilton shows them as ambitious, flawed and deeply human.
“In textbooks, we talk about the founders as these kinds of geniuses who created this perfect country,” said Shana Kushner Gadarian, associate dean of research at the Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs at Syracuse University. “I think [in Hamilton] you see that the founding itself was very contentious, and it’s full of rivalries across the parties and within parties and these are real people who have flaws that sometimes undercut their own political ambitions.”
For young audiences, that matters. Politics has always been messy; leaders care, scheme and screw up. Hamilton makes messiness accessible and even fun. Its boldest move isn’t just its sound, but its insistence that politics have always been multiracial.
Still, hindsight brings clarity. The musical that reimagined history’s heroes also turned slave owners into lyrical icons performing for crowds. Even great art can mirror the inequities it aims to critique.
The musical’s reach extends far beyond Broadway. Its songs live in classrooms, social media and everyday conversation. For better or worse, we here at Jerk can’t hear the word “non- stop” without wanting to breathlessly try to nail ten different character’s harmonies in the explosive act I finale. And songs like “The Room Where It Happens” become tools to explore coalition- building, showing that politics can happen in unexpected places, sometimes even in a chorus.
A decade on stage, Hamilton reminds us that the nation’s story isn’t just in textbooks or Congress—it’s alive, messy and still being written.