Elphaba: The Misunderstood Witch

'Wicked' (the musical based on Gregory Maguire's novel) retells the Wizard of Oz from the Wicked Witch of the West's perspective. Elphaba, born with green skin, becomes the villain of Dorothy's story—but her tale is far more complex. Elphaba is born different: literally green-skinned, intellectually brilliant, magically powerful, and uncompromising in her ethics. She attends Shiz University where she's isolated, mocked, and marginalized because of her appearance and outspoken nature. At Shiz, she befriends (then conflicts with) Glinda, the popular, beautiful girl who represents everything Elphaba isn't: socially accepted, conventionally attractive, concerned with fitting in. Their friendship—and eventual divergence—explores how people with identical information make different choices based on privilege and self-preservation. Both Elphaba and Glinda learn that the Wizard of Oz is a fraud and that Animals (talking, intelligent beings) are being persecuted and silenced. Elphaba tries to stop this injustice, making her an enemy of the state. Glinda chooses to work within the system, compromising ethics for safety and popularity. The Wizard and his propagandist, Madame Morrible, frame Elphaba as 'wicked'—a dangerous witch threatening Oz. In reality, she's a freedom fighter, a whistleblower, a resistance leader. But history is written by victors, so Elphaba becomes the villain while the Wizard remains revered. This is 'Wicked's' central insight: villains are created by those in power. Labels like 'wicked,' 'evil,' or 'witch' are political tools used to discredit dissent and justify persecution. Elphaba is demonized not because she's evil, but because she threatens the establishment. For witches, this resonates deeply. The word 'witch' was historically used to criminalize women who didn't conform: healers, midwives, independent women, outspoken women, different women. 'Witch' was the label that justified burning them. 'Wicked' reclaims 'witch' as a badge of resistance. Elphaba embraces the label, singing 'No good deed goes unpunished,' recognizing that trying to help when you're already demonized only deepens your villainy in others' eyes. But she continues fighting anyway. Elphaba's green skin is allegory for any visible difference that causes marginalization: race, disability, queerness, neurodivergence. She can't hide her difference, can't pass as 'normal.' She must either hide in shame or embrace herself fully and face consequences. She chooses embrace. 'Defying Gravity'—the musical's anthem—is Elphaba's declaration of self-acceptance: 'I'm through accepting limits 'cause someone says they're so. Some things I cannot change, but till I try I'll never know.' She'll be who she is, do what's right, and damn the consequences. This makes Elphaba a queer icon, a disability-justice icon, a racial-justice icon. Any marginalized person who's been told they're 'too much,' too different, too outspoken, too unwilling to conform sees themselves in her green skin. The musical also explores how power and privilege shape moral choices. Glinda wants to be good, but she's unwilling to sacrifice her privilege to achieve justice. She makes small, safe choices while maintaining her position. Elphaba sacrifices everything—reputation, safety, love—for justice. Neither is entirely right. Elphaba's uncompromising ethics isolate her, make her ineffective in some ways, and hurt people she loves. Glinda's accommodation preserves her influence but requires constant moral compromise. The musical doesn't provide easy answers about the right way to resist injustice. Elphaba's relationship with Fiyero (who becomes the Scarecrow) shows her capacity for love and vulnerability. Despite her strength, she's deeply lonely, convinced she's unlovable because of her difference. Fiyero loving her anyway is radical affirmation: you're lovable not despite your difference, but completely, including your difference. Her relationship with her sister Nessarose (who becomes the Wicked Witch of the East) explores complicated sibling dynamics. Elphaba tries to help Nessarose, but her help becomes enabling. Nessarose becomes tyrannical partly because she's been overprotected. Good intentions don't guarantee good outcomes. By musical's end, Elphaba fakes her death and escapes Oz with Fiyero. Dorothy's bucket of water is theater—Elphaba survives, letting the world believe she's dead so she can live freely away from those who want to destroy her. This ambiguous ending is significant: sometimes the marginalized can't change systems. Sometimes they have to protect themselves by leaving or hiding. That's not cowardice—it's survival. Elphaba fought, lost, and chose to live differently rather than die for a cause. Study Elphaba, young witch, for what she teaches about embracing difference, resisting injustice, and surviving persecution. Like her, you may be labeled 'wicked' for refusing to conform, for speaking truth, for being visibly different. Learn from her defiance: fly anyway. Be yourself anyway. Fight anyway. The label 'witch' was meant to destroy us. We turned it into power. Learn from her complexity: fighting for justice doesn't make you perfect. Good intentions don't guarantee good outcomes. Resistance is messy, complicated, and often unsuccessful by conventional measures. And learn from her survival: sometimes you can't change the system. Sometimes you have to protect yourself, find your people, and build something new. That's not failure—it's wisdom. Elphaba reminds us why we reclaim 'witch'—because it was the label used to burn women who wouldn't conform. Because being called 'wicked' by those in power often means you're doing something right. Because defying gravity, metaphorically and literally, is how witches fly.