Director A. Lorraine Robinson’s production can admittedly be funny, and two of the performances are inventive and compelling. Still, the modest harvest of entertainment can’t compensate for scripts that are too straightforward and bluntly informative to satisfy as art, although they’d make excellent additions to AP history reading lists.

The garden landscape makes “Dandelion Peace” the more eye-catching of the two works (Heidi Castle-Smith is set designer), and it boasts more dramatic momentum. But the production leads off with “Letters to Kamala,” a primer on three unjustly forgotten women of color who blazed trails in U.S. politics. Premiered as a digital reading by a Florida company during the pandemic, and receiving its in-person premiere here, this tutorial and consciousness-raising session takes the form of interlocking monologues ostensibly addressed to Vice President Harris.

With the stage (at this point, vegetable-free) draped in red-white-and-blue bunting, the three pioneers tell their stories and muse about the predicament of seeking progress in a change-averse political system. Charlotta Bass (Kendra Holloway), an audacious journalist, was the first Black woman to run for vice president, appearing on the Progressive Party ticket in 1952. Charlene Mitchell (Fatima Quander) was the first Black woman to run for president, as the Communist Party candidate in 1968. Patsy Matsu Takemoto Mink (Mariele Atienza), an Asian American who was the first woman of color in Congress, elected in 1964, championed Title IX, which prohibits sex discrimination in education.

Playwright Lynett seems to most enjoy exploring Mitchell, and Quander is charismatic as this righteously exasperated figure, who’s given to gesturing vigorously with a cigarette. Holloway deftly suggests the strength and drive that course beneath a demure demeanor, as Bass strolls around in a drop-waist gown and gloves. (Brandee Mathies is costume designer.) These two performances overshadow Atienza, whose mannerisms throughout the production have a stilted air.

The three historical figures occasionally acknowledge one another, but they principally acknowledge the (mostly unseen) Harris, sometimes taking issue with her decisions, including her track record as a prosecutor. What is the distinction between civil compromise and selling out? Should a woman leader settle for the positions a sexist society reluctantly grants her? Is incremental progress more effective, in the long run, than revolution? These are all intriguing questions. They would be great on a midterm pop quiz. But one longs for a dramatic back-and-forth and textual complexity that might make the ideas, and the history, resonate as theater.

Lynett changes mode but not fundamental concerns with “Dandelion Peace,” a none-too-subtle political allegory. The schmoozy Moira (Atienza) is running to keep her post as steering-committee president at an urban community garden. When the zealous Zuri (Quander) objects to the dandelions grown by Anita (Holloway), civility between neighbors withers, with the spiraling cautionary tale ultimately seeming to speak rather baldly to the real world’s upcoming 2024 U.S. election. (The horticultural conflict, with its partisan overtones, recalls Karen Zacarías’s richer “Native Gardens.”)

Holloway is delightful as the thoughtful yet easily riled Anita, who’s sometimes seen practicing yoga. Quander makes Zuri a formidable force, especially in a pivotal scene (no spoilers here) nicely stoked by David Lamont Wilson’s sound design.

With its skeptical vision of democracy, “Dandelion Peace” fittingly complicates “Letters to Kamala’s” celebration of political legacies. But the playwright doesn’t give the “Dandelion Peace” characters and scenario much depth beyond their allegorical pinnings. Even the plot’s green-thumb skulduggery points blatantly to how individual rights can be at loggerheads with the civic weal.

Letters to Kamala/Dandelion Peace, through June 30 at the Universalist National Memorial Church in Washington. About 2 hours, including an intermission. voicesfestivalproductions.com.