“CUT!” Sweat dripped down my back as I stared at the monitor to rewatch the final scene of our short film, Finding Her Voice. The crew grinned, and I congratulated everyone before heading into the editing room. In previous weeks, our brilliantly British professor, Graham, showed us clips from the snappy Hot Fuzz and the frightening The Silence of The Lambs to teach us editing techniques. The more I watched the crisp cuts and captivating colors, the more excited I became, and soon, I was spending twelve-hour days editing, eager to master the craft. As I worked on editing a complex “whip-crash” shot, Graham appeared by my side. “Play that back again,” he said. I replayed the shot, a zoom with perfect focus. So epic. “Did ya stitch that, or is it one fluid shot?” he asked. “One fluid shot.” “You’ve got some nice focus there... Good job.” No way. . . My first editing compliment. Heck yeah! With this, my morale soared, and my passion to keep learning skyrocketed. This film ended up in the festival circuit and I used the skills here to create more movies, which ended up having great runs at film festivals around the globe. With this, I realized I wanted to be the “Graham” for others, helping them find their voice. In the future, I strive to be the student and the teacher, learning from mentors with extensive knowledge and using my skill set to help others create art they find meaningful and innovative.

My hands skimmed the leather coated basketball as I drilled my ball-handling. Sweat beaded down my forehead and into my ears and eyes, heavy breathing following in suit. From across the gym I could see a group of boys snickering and pointing at someone- but my vision was covered by the huddle. “Pft. You want her on our team?!” scoffed one of the guys. My eyes shot past the boys to see a shy tween picking her nails. She was a spitting image of myself at that age, nervous to speak up yet ashamed to not be saying anything. Thankfully, over the years, I’ve earned my teammates’ and coaches’ respect, even though I’m one of the only girls in the whole program. I show up on time to practice, out work ‘em, and always put the team first. I actively work to use my position in the community to make the group more inclusive because everyone deserves a chance to play. Playing on the male-dominated court has always been a challenge: these big guys who ruled the court didn’t play around, ripped their tanks in half after missing layups, and definitely didn’t want any girls on their team to “mess up their plays.” As a trusted member of the team, I now use my position to include everyone- regardless of who they are. “Yes. You do.” I walked over to the girl and kneeled to her level, looking into her teary eyes. It brought me back to the times when I was shunned and side-eyed just for being in the gym in the first place. Like I wasn’t worthy of being there. I gave her a soft smile and ushered her over to the group. “And I’ll play too.” I mean hey, can’t be too carefree- gotta watch over the boys.

Growing up in the hustle and bustle of NYC meant that theater was all around me, and I was fortunate enough to see many shows. When I was four, my mom took my twin brother and me to see Peter Pan at Madison Square Garden. In the finale, Peter Pan soared above the orchestra with Tinker Bell, sprinkling pixie dust over the audience. I was awestruck. My stubby hands stuffed what pixie dust I could gather from the carpeted floors of the theater into my pockets and I felt a grin grow on my face. At that moment, I realized something profound: I, too, could fly. Since that night, I have been searching for that sensation—an exhilaration only theater can offer—and I am determined to recreate it for others by stepping on the stage myself. After starting my theater education by attending LaGuardia High School, I've felt a stronger sense of purpose in my life. Art is my lifeline, and it pumps me with creative energy that keeps me going and helps others find passion. At school, I have enhanced my skills and the audiences I've performed for. I've used my skills to help other young actors train and prepare for auditions, college interviews, and more! I love teaching and giving others creative feedback, and by doing this outreach, I have found that it has amplified people's drive in this craft. By choosing impactful pieces to perform and by bringing vulnerability to every character I play, I help audiences see themselves and exhibit catharsis. I am eager to deepen my craft by learning to bring vulnerability and empathy to my performances. By embodying characters authentically, I aim to allow audiences to see each character's inner life, even those that could be their opposites. I aspire to choose projects that tackle real-world issues, create impactful work, and spark dialogue long after the curtain falls. If I can help the audience feel deeply in the moment, I hope to make the pixie dust linger and encourage them to think at length about how the themes and questions of each play connect to their own lives. Looking ahead, my goal as an artist is to create work that transcends societal boundaries and resonates across diverse audiences. I plan to use the stage to spark meaningful conversations about pressing issues, offering a space for shared reflection and connection through the universal language of emotion.

Growing up in the hustle and bustle of NYC meant that theater was all around me, and I was fortunate enough to see a lot of shows. When I was 4, my mom took my twin brother and me to see Peter Pan at MSG. Of course, as a child, I was easily entranced, but the performance was truly enchanting. In the finale, Peter Pan flew over the orchestra with Tinker Bell for his extraordinary exit, sprinkling pixie dust over the audience. Sure, it was just golden confetti, but I believed it was magical. My stubby hands stuffed what pixie dust I could gather from the carpeted floors of the theater into my pockets as I felt a soft grin grow on my face. I could fly. Since then, I’ve been chasing that sensation of flight, and I know the only way I can get the magic back is to be on that stage, making it for others. Now that I’m a 17-year-old senior drama major at LaGuardia High School, I’ve had four years of hands-on experience as an actor and have seen countless more performances on NYC’s stages. I’ve been able to perform in a variety of spaces, from black box theaters to full concert halls, exposing me to a diverse set of crowds. My taste has matured, yet I still turn to all types of theater to find that resonance that rumbles through my core. A couple of weeks ago, one of my acting teachers, Jeffrey Stafford, released a limited number of tickets to see a dress rehearsal of Juilliard’s Group 54 senior performance project of Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? As soon as Martha yelled “Jesus…H…Christ!” I was in awe. Yes, I wasn’t four anymore, and I knew I was seeing a show, but the pixie dust still rained down. The thrust stage was intimate, making my hands grasp my cheeks due to the tension. I couldn’t look away from the chaos. Seeing actors who took bold risks and were willing to “eat the scenery” made me eager to perform that fearlessly. Even though I have never been in a tension-filled marriage or attended a night-long party, I was emotionally connected to the characters and could relate to their emotions. Their pain and feelings were universal, just under different circumstances. I could deeply sympathize with Martha’s battle for power and George’s unhappiness in his relationship. Regardless of what is on the outside, a work’s themes and characters can be relatable to the audience if the actors commit to them with vulnerability, which is exactly what these 4 actors did. Even though these plays stretch across time and have complex characters, the core stories transcend their context: Medea’s plea for justice, Blanche’s desire to be seen, and Silvius’s hunger to be loved. Whether it is a classical piece or a more contemporary play, these stories connect to audiences through the characters’ essential circumstances, helping people explore identity and find meaning in their lives. Each actor on that stage had a passion and connected to the material with their talent, allowing me to relate to the story. Their found meaning in the story motivated me to find out what drives me to pursue acting. In the future, my goal as an artist is to evoke emotions that can echo across social barriers, connecting others with the complex human experience and sparking social commentary on topics that impact our world today. I hope to learn more about the craft of acting and use it as a tool to connect with others: to be able to “practice bringing vulnerability and empathy” to my understanding of characters will assist me in being able to continuously create the magnetic bond that is theater, helping people connect to characters that are their polar opposites. Using technology will help me broaden my audience and help theater become more accessible. Within the growth of technology, I hope to expand my knowledge of filmmaking and create more films that relate to my theater projects. By choosing meaningful plays, I want to be a part of theater that lingers in people’s minds for years. If I can help the audience feel deeply in the moment, I hope to make the pixie dust linger, driving them to think at length about how the themes and questions of each play connect to their own lives.

Growing up in the hustle and bustle of NYC meant that theater was all around me, and I was fortunate enough to see a lot of shows. When I was 4, my mom took my twin brother and me to see Peter Pan at MSG. Of course, as a child, I was easily entranced, but the performance was truly enchanting. In the finale, Peter Pan flew over the orchestra with Tinker Bell for his extraordinary exit, sprinkling pixie dust over the audience. Sure, it was just golden confetti, but I believed it was magical. My stubby hands stuffed what pixie dust I could gather from the carpeted floors of the theater into my pockets as I felt a soft grin grow on my face. I could fly. Since then, I’ve been chasing that sensation of flight, and I know the only way I can get the magic back is to be on that stage, making it for others. Now that I’m a 17-year-old senior drama major at LaGuardia High School, I’ve had four years of hands-on experience as an actor and have seen countless more performances on NYC’s stages. I’ve been able to perform in a variety of spaces, from black box theaters to full concert halls, exposing me to a diverse set of crowds. My taste has matured, yet I still turn to all types of theater to find that resonance that rumbles through my core. A couple of weeks ago, one of my acting teachers, Jeffrey Stafford, released a limited number of tickets to see a dress rehearsal of Juilliard’s Group 54 senior performance project of Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? As soon as Martha yelled “Jesus…H…Christ!” I was in awe. Yes, I wasn’t four anymore, and I knew I was seeing a show, but the pixie dust still rained down. The thrust stage was intimate, making my hands grasp my cheeks due to the tension. I couldn’t look away from the chaos. Seeing actors who took bold risks and were willing to “eat the scenery” made me eager to perform that fearlessly. Even though I have never been in a tension-filled marriage or attended a night-long party, I was emotionally connected to the characters and could relate to their emotions. Their pain and feelings were universal, just under different circumstances. I could deeply sympathize with Martha’s battle for power and George’s unhappiness in his relationship. Regardless of what is on the outside, a work’s themes and characters can be relatable to the audience if the actors commit to them with vulnerability, which is exactly what these 4 actors did. Even though these plays stretch across time and have complex characters, the core stories transcend their context: Medea’s plea for justice, Blanche’s desire to be seen, and Silvius’s hunger to be loved. Whether it is a classical piece or a more contemporary play, these stories connect to audiences through the characters’ essential circumstances, helping people explore identity and find meaning in their lives. Each actor on that stage had a passion and connected to the material with their talent, allowing me to relate to the story. Their found meaning in the story motivated me to find out what drives me to pursue acting. In the future, my goal as an artist is to evoke emotions that can echo across social barriers, connecting others with the complex human experience and sparking social commentary on topics that impact our world today. I hope to learn more about the craft of acting and use it as a tool to connect with others: to be able to “practice bringing vulnerability and empathy” to my understanding of characters will assist me in being able to continuously create the magnetic bond that is theater, helping people connect to characters that are their polar opposites. By choosing meaningful projects, I want to be a part of theater that lingers in people’s minds for years. If I can help the audience feel deeply in the moment, I hope to make the pixie dust linger, driving them to think at length about how the themes and questions of each play connect to their own lives. Link to my most recent film! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6Qh-nnEmk4

Growing up in the hustle and bustle of NYC meant that theater was all around me, and I was fortunate enough to see many shows. When I was four, my mom took my twin brother and me to see Peter Pan at Madison Square Garden. In the finale, Peter Pan soared above the orchestra with Tinker Bell, sprinkling pixie dust over the audience. I was awestruck. My stubby hands stuffed what pixie dust I could gather from the carpeted floors of the theater into my pockets and I felt a grin grow on my face. At that moment, I realized something profound: I, too, could fly. Since that night, I have been searching for that sensation—an exhilaration only theater can offer—and I am determined to recreate it for others by stepping on the stage myself. I am eager to deepen my craft by learning to bring vulnerability and empathy to my performances. By embodying characters authentically, I aim to allow audiences to see each character's inner life, even those that could be their opposites. I aspire to choose projects that tackle real-world issues, create impactful work, and spark dialogue long after the curtain falls. If I can help the audience feel deeply in the moment, I hope to make the pixie dust linger and encourage them to think at length about how the themes and questions of each play connect to their own lives. Looking ahead, my goal as an artist is to create work that transcends societal boundaries and resonates across diverse audiences. I plan to use the stage to spark meaningful conversations about pressing issues, offering a space for shared reflection and connection through the universal language of emotion.