From the Handlebars to the Stage
Fran Powers’ Final Bow
by Emily McLaughlin
On Sunday, March 8th, the house lights at Hillsborough Community College didn’t just signal the end of the 6th annual Voices of Women Theater Festival—they signaled the end of an era.
As the stage went dark, the audience sat in the heavy, sacred silence that follows a Powerstories production. This wasn’t just a closing night; it was the final curtain call for founder and Executive Director Fran Powers, who is stepping down after 25 years of turning raw, personal truth into professional art.
Avery Anderson
The Power of the "Unspeakable"
The festival’s finale, All My Mothers by Shelli Pentimall Bookler, served as a perfect microcosm of Fran’s mission. Selected from the "Women Playwrights Over 40" category, the play follows an adoptee’s journey through the labyrinth of a large Italian family to find her birth mother.
What begins as a quest for identity ends in a shattering revelation: a history of sexual assault that the birth mother had carried in silence for decades. It is a story about the jagged edges of healing—learning when to embrace empathy and when to walk away for one’s own survival.
“We want the audience to receive the gift of what you have been through,” Powers remarked after the final bows. “Someone may have survived a crisis, a rape, or a death... but in telling it, they are transforming that trauma into a gift for the stranger in the next seat.”
1998: The Epiphany in Wyoming
To understand the gravity of the festival, you have to look back nearly 3,000 miles and three decades. In June 1998, Fran Powers wasn't in a theater; she was on a bicycle, pedaling across the United States.
The first week out of Seattle was a grueling test of will. Her legs ached, and the "why" of the trip felt increasingly distant. But as the Montana sky opened up—a vast canopy of blue over purple peaks and endless wildflowers—the physical pain gave way to a spiritual clarity.
The "Aha!" moment finally struck in Wyoming. Standing clipped out of her pedals, arms raised to the wind, the vision for Powerstories Theatre crystallized. It wouldn’t just be a theater for plays; it would be a vessel for women and girls to reclaim their narratives.
A Legacy of "Yes"
When Fran returned to Tampa, she didn't look for actors; she looked for truth-tellers. Her first press release was simple: “Do you have a story to tell?”
Eight women, aged 30 to 70—most with zero stage experience—answered. They weren't there for the applause; they were there for the release. Since its debut in November 2000, Powerstories has proven that there is a profound hunger for "unpolished" honesty.
"I didn’t have any expectations," Powers recalled. "I just put it out there, and women just came."
Avery Anderson
Avery Anderson