My connection to performance stems from the days I would spend on my grandmother’s event building stage. Its red, velvety carpet was the foundation of my journey into theatre. The hours on that stage amounted to a natural gravitation to everything performance. Whether it was singing at family reunions or giving Honors Day speeches, I was drawn to the essence of what it means to perform and touch another person’s mind and soul. So as my propensity for performance grew, so did my motivation to learn as much as I could about it. Upon entering high school, I threw myself further into acting. With the support of my mother, who has helped me secure learning opportunities, I have been able to grow as a person and an artist. But acting itself is not my “why?” for performing. I walk on to the stage because it's ingrained into me. Generations of my family have been creatives who have used their gifts as an extension of themselves. And that is exactly what I strive to embody. When I am given a character, I don’t just see it as a role I have to play. I view each character as a way to make someone feel seen and heard. An opportunity to tell an unsung story. Art is most meaningful when we can see ourselves within it. I use performance to share the good, bad, and beautiful complexities of what it means to be human. My passion for performance, ultimately, lies in my end goal to have the production linger and be imprinted in the audience's mind. I want the audience to have conversations about the performance at the dinner table, in the office, or in a school cafeteria. Conversations that foster a sense of curiosity and motivation. I hope to leave those who watch me perform wanting to carry on the performance and its message long after it is over. But the audience also fuels me. The agreeing “mmm’s” and the collective laughter not only gives life to the performers but to the production as well. Being a performer, I always think of what it is I want to leave behind. What will my legacy be? I want to look back and feel myself living on through those who come after me. Those who share my love for theatre and the coloring of our world through performance. So, as I grown my performance career, I want to open a Performing Arts Academy for minority and marginalized teens who wish to begin their own professional careers. After seeing the benefit of the amazing learning opportunities I have been given, I know that young performers must thrive in an environment that caters to their creative needs. My academy will be that environment. A legacy that not only hopes for a better tomorrow but does the work to see it made real. I will teach those after me to always choose passion, curiosity, and connection, and use them to leave the world a bit brighter than we found it.

My connection to performance stems from the days I would spend on my grandmother’s event building stage. Its red, velvety carpet was the foundation of my journey into theatre. The hours on that stage amounted to a natural gravitation to everything performance. Whether it was singing at family reunions or giving Honors Day speeches, I was drawn to the essence of what it means to perform and touch another person’s mind and soul. So as my propensity for performance grew, so did my motivation to learn as much as I could about it. Upon entering high school, I threw myself further into acting. With the support of my mother, who has helped me secure learning opportunities, I have been able to grow as a person and an artist. But acting itself is not my “why?” for performing. I walk on to the stage because it's ingrained into me. Generations of my family have been creatives who have used their gifts as an extension of themselves. And that is exactly what I strive to embody. When I am given a character, I don’t just see it as a role I have to play. I view each character as a way to make someone feel seen and heard. An opportunity to tell an unsung story. Art is most meaningful when we can see ourselves within it. I use performance to share the good, bad, and beautiful complexities of what it means to be human. My passion for performance, ultimately, lies in my end goal to have the production linger and be imprinted in the audience's mind. I want the audience to have conversations about the performance at the dinner table, in the office, or in a school cafeteria. Conversations that foster a sense of curiosity and motivation. I hope to leave those who watch me perform wanting to carry on the performance and its message long after it is over. But the audience also fuels me. The agreeing “mmm’s” and the collective laughter not only gives life to the performers but to the production as well. Being a performer, I always think of what it is I want to leave behind. What will my legacy be? I want to look back and feel myself living on through those who come after me. Those who share my love for theatre and the coloring of our world through performance. So, as I grown my performance career, I want to open a Performing Arts Academy for minority and marginalized teens who wish to begin their own professional careers. After seeing the benefit of the amazing learning opportunities I have been given, I know that young performers must thrive in an environment that caters to their creative needs. My academy will be that environment. A legacy that not only hopes for a better tomorrow but does the work to see it made real. I will teach those after me to always choose passion, curiosity, and connection, and use them to leave the world a bit brighter than we found it.

Theatre is not only a form of performance to me but a message from myself to the audience. And an extension of my mind and body to the rest of my ensemble. My connection to my ensemble is a force that drives me to continue to perform. I was recently in a performance at the Alliance Theatre in Atlanta, where I was a part of an ensemble tackling the discussion of silenced political views among today’s youth. The conversations I had with my fellow ensemble members were the exact types of discussions that I wanted my performance to provoke. I believe that an ensemble should challenge each other in ways where we can grow as performers, together. In the performance industry, competition tends to be the center of many relationships between artists. Many creators tend to compare themselves or make judgements of fellow creatives. But when I interact with my ensemble, I see them as something to learn from rather than critique. Whatever ensemble I am apart, they are my family. With this particular project at the Alliance Theatre, I was amazed at how we all connected to each other so quickly and were able to create a moving performance for an audience. A performance that not only sparked inspiration in our audience but conversation as well. When we began the project, we had one internal goal that we wanted to execute. “Create the change in the audience that we want to see in the world.”. Our collective agreement of this goal triumphed over any differences we had and made us a true ensemble. An ensemble that performs as one, thinks as one, and creates as one. This is the mindset that I take into every performance I’m a part of. A mindset that keeps me connected to my ensemble. When I am given a character, I don’t just see it as a role I have to play. To me, the roles I receive have lives of their own, with specifically individual motivations and goals. As I embody the character, I am an outlet for the persona I inhabit, and in doing so the character’s message and mission becomes my own to execute. My passion for acting comes from the process in which I take on a character. A process that allows me to fully connect to the audience and to my character. In all my performances, my end goal is to have the production linger and be imprinted in the audience's mind. I want the audience to have conversations about the performance at the dinner table, in the office, or even in a school cafeteria. Conversations that foster a sense of curiosity and motivation. In the end, I just hope the audience leaves wanting to carry on the performance and its message even when it’s over. While I always strive to fuel the audience when on stage, in all honesty, the audience fuels me. The sounds and emotions of viewers empower me to put my best foot forward for them. The agreeing “mmm’s” and the collective laughter not only gives life to the performers but to the production as well. So whenever an audience member gives me accolades on a performance, I express an equal amount of gratitude for their participation as well. I do this because the performance would not exist without them. Artists would not exist without them.

When I am given a character, I don’t just see it as a role I have to play. As I embody the character, I am an outlet for the persona I inhabit, and in doing so the character’s message and mission becomes my own to execute. In all my performances, my end goal is to have the production linger and be imprinted in the audience's mind. In the end, I just hope the audience leaves wanting to carry on the performance and its message even when its over. Theatre is not only a form of performance to me but a message from myself to the audience. And an extension of my mind and body to the rest of my ensemble. My connection to my ensemble is a force that drives me to continue to perform. I was recently in a performance at the Alliance Theatre in Atlanta, where I was a part of an ensemble tackling the discussion of silenced political views among today’s youth. The conversations I had with my fellow ensemble members were the exact types of discussions that I wanted my performance to provoke. I believe that an ensemble should challenge each other in ways where we can grow as performers, together. With this particular project at the Alliance Theatre, we had one internal goal that we wanted to execute in our performance. “Create the change in the audience that we want to see in the world.”. Our collective agreement of this goal triumphed over any differences we had and made us a true ensemble. An ensemble that performs as one, thinks as one, and creates as one. As someone who has always loved anything related to learning more about the world, I have always pushed the people around me to have a yearn for learning as well. One of my future goals has been to open a Performing Arts Academy for minority and marginalized youth with access to performance training and advisement. Due to the lack of accessibility that this type of training can have in certain groups, I want to provide an environment for teens to explore and hone their performance skills. In doing so, I hope to encourage teens seeking performance training to seek out further knowledge from universities and colleges that provide those tools. Creating more experienced and diverse performers of the next generation.

When I think of my legacy, I don’t see it as leaving something behind but planting a seed for others to nurture. I always say when I’m old (or “seasoned” as my grandmother used to say), I want to look back and feel that I will live on through those who come after me. Those who share my love for others and the improvement of the world we live in. While it is often easier to focus on the bad things in life, I want to bring so much joy and love into the world that it outshines everything else. In my mind, my legacy has already begun. Whenever I walk into a room, as long as I’m smiling or making someone laugh, I’m fulfilling my legacy. It’s as simple as that. But if someone were to ask me how I would build upon it in the future, I would think of my own personal dream. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a teacher. I’m not sure why, but the idea of being able to positively influence our youth has been something I’ve always been drawn to. As I grew up, I found my love for all things performance and my dream of becoming a teacher evolved into something else. I not only want to influence the youth of today’s world but everyone else as well. When I’m on stage, whatever I am performing, I want to spark a drive for change in the audience. It doesn’t matter if it’s something as small as brightening someone’s day. As long as I’ve impacted the audience before me, I know my job is done. And that I did it well. My legacy is always growing just as I am. So in the future, I want to integrate my love of teaching and performing to nurture the artistic talents of tomorrow’s youth. Performance training often has a history of disparities in marginalized communities. As I grow my performing arts career, I am determined to open a Performing Arts Academy for teens who wish to begin their own professional careers. As a performer myself, I know that young performers must thrive in a progressive environment that caters to their creative needs. My academy will be that environment. My academy will be a part of my legacy. A legacy that not only hopes for a better tomorrow, but does the work to see it made real.

“An eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind.”- Gandhi Growing up in a family full of different religions and races shaped my viewpoint of the world. In my grandmother‘s family house, as my uncle played the trumpet, I innocently enjoyed family time with my mixed-race cousins, Christian, Alex, Ryan, Mila, and Kayla. As a child, I was blissfully unaware of societal prejudices about race; to me, our differences were irrelevant.. I was privileged enough to have this exposure that would prepare me for the harsh truth of the outside world. As I grew older, however, my perspective began to shift. My cousins, once beloved playmates, started to seem like outsiders who could never fully understand my daily experiences as an African-American teenager. Conversely, I realized I would never fully grasp their experiences either—unless I made an effort to understand them. Despite feeling like a stranger to my cousins at times, I now see them not as outliers but as family. Now as a 17-year-old, aspiring theater major, my personal mission lies in the childhood I shared with my cousins. I wish to spread the joy of unbiased cross-cultural interactions while exploring the lives of those different from me. I was recently a part of the Palefsky Collision Project at the Alliance Theater in Atlanta where we displayed different political views of today’s generation. The production we created challenged different outlooks surrounding the upcoming election and progressive solutions for today’s times. During this experience, I found myself sharing my view more because of the diverse and accepting atmosphere. It is productions like this I wish to continue to be a part of as they spark conversations that explore the unknowns between everyday people. These unknowns can bring us closer together as human beings rather than just races, cultures, and genders. The same jubilee that I felt as a child should be an everyday practice to not only keep us sane as humans but connected as people. With this vision in mind, I aim to open a Performing Arts Academy for teens wishing to develop their theatrical skills, regardless of their background. If more young people were exposed to diverse topics and individuals early in life, the world would be less divided and more understanding. The same opportunity was given to me at The University of North Carolina School of Arts Drama Conservatory. As I learned different acting and musical techniques, I was also able to peek inside the lives of those who have different social experiences than me. The different beliefs and values I was exposed to made me explore the boundaries I set within myself. The connections I made with people from diverse backgrounds highlighted how much of the world I had been missing within my own bubble. My goal is to create an environment that fosters relationships and teaches students that the world is boundless when we transcend harmful barriers. Through my day-to-day life, I try to step back into the same Chloe who would play with her cousins in the dirt of Augusta, Georgia. When interacting with my cousins now, I make an effort to see them as they are today, rather than merely as they were in the past. As my cousin Kayla transitions to Terrence, I hope to be a role model who shows him that a more accepting and connected world is not only possible but achievable. “An eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind.”- Gandhi

“An eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind.”- Gandhi Growing up in a family full of different religions and races shaped my viewpoint of the world. In my grandmother‘s family house, as my uncle played the trumpet, I innocently enjoyed family time with my mixed-race cousins, Christian, Alex, Ryan, Mila, and Kayla. As a child, I was not privy to the societal constraints of color, so it did not matter to me. I was privileged enough to have this exposure that would prepare me for the harsh truth of the outside world. I would love to say that my view of my cousins stayed the same. But as I grew and changed, so did my mindset. My little cousins turned into outsiders who would never understand the things I go through day-to-day as an African-American teenager, soon to be an adult. But I also realized that I wouldn’t understand their experiences either. Unless I tried. Now as a 17-year-old, rising theater major, my personal mission lies in the childhood I shared with my cousins. I wish to spread the joy of unbiased cross-cultural interactions while exploring the lives of those different from me. I was recently a part of the Palefsky Collision Project at the Alliance Theater in Atlanta where we displayed different political views of today’s generation. It is pieces like this I wish to continue to be a part of as they spark conversations that explore the unknowns between everyday people. These unknowns can bring us closer together as human beings rather than just races, cultures, and genders. The same jubilee that I felt as a child should be an everyday practice to not only keep us sane as humans but connected as people. With the same idea in mind, I want to open my own Performing Arts Academy for all teens wishing to expand their theatrical abilities, no matter where they come from. If more people from the early stages of their lives were exposed to more topics and people, the world would be less hateful and divided. The same opportunity was given to me at The University of North Carolina School of Arts Drama Conservatory. As I learned different acting and musical techniques, I was also able to peek inside the lives of those who have different social experiences than me. The different beliefs and values I was exposed to made me explore the boundaries I set within myself. The bonds I created with the rainbow of people I met, further opened my eyes to how much of the world I was missing in my own bubble. So not only do I want to curate an environment that builds relationships but I wish to teach students that the world is boundless when harmful boundaries are crossed. Through my day-to-day life, I try to step back into the same Chloe who would play with her cousins in the dirt of Augusta, Georgia. And when interacting with my cousins now, I try to not only see them as I did then but as who they are now. As my cousin Kayla transitions to Terrence, I hope to be a role model that allows him to see that the future can be a more accepting and connected world. “An eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind.”- Gandhi

The Princess And The Frog musical movie was a monumental experience for me as a child. I watched this movie repeatedly, memorizing every dance, song, and line. At the tender age of three, it gave me a chance to sing and act for others on the stages of family reunions and my grandmother's event space. Singing and acting for others gave me joy, and it gave others joy, too. In less than ten years, the pandemic would take over the world, leaving me at home to figure out what to do with the remainder of seventh grade. But that movie saved me. In the early days of lockdown, a good friend and I recited each and every word of the movie, from start to finish, to pass the time. As a young child, the movie made me happy; as a preteen, it gave me relief and distraction during a tumultuous time. That is when I learned the power of theater arts. When first discovering my passion for theatre, I drew my love for performing from blueprints that lie within movies such as The Princess And The Frog. As I have grown as a performer, I have learned to fuel my drive with my performances and goals. I no longer look for outside sources of passion but within myself and my craft. My love of theatre is now rooted in the feelings that I cultivate within my audience. My reason for choosing theatre and continuing to choose it is not one of self desire, but the desire to provide unique and possibly life-changing productions for diverse audiences. In this lies my purpose of performance: to challenge outlooks and narratives that constrain creativity and withhold opportunities from those who seek them. I believe that theatrical performances or any liberal art forms of expression should be readily available to all forms of viewers, no matter race or gender. A continuous cycle I find within performance training is the disparity of opportunities for youth and adults who wish to pursue the arts, in marginalized groups to be more specific. As I grow my performing arts career, I am determined to open a Performing Arts Academy for adolescent teens who have begun their performance careers or wish to begin them. I believe it is essential for young performers to grow in a progressive learning environment that caters to their creative needs. I have felt the impact of programs such as this and want to implement the same wisdom in future performers. In all my performances, I want my audience to leave with a sentiment unfelt within them before. A sentiment that I felt when first watching The Princess And The Frog. A feeling of euphoria and adornment for all things creative and expressive. That is the meaning of impactful theatre and the very theatre I want to portray throughout the entirety of my creative career

The Princess And The Frog musical movie was a monumental experience for me as a child. I watched this movie repeatedly, memorizing every dance, song, and line. At the tender age of three, it gave me a chance to sing and act for others on the stages of family reunions and my grandmother's event space. Singing and acting for others gave me joy, and it gave others joy, too. In less than ten years, the pandemic would take over the world, leaving me at home to figure out what to do with the remainder of seventh grade. But that movie saved me. In the early days of lockdown, a good friend and I recited each and every word of the movie, from start to finish, to pass the time. As a young child, the movie made me happy; as a preteen, it gave me relief and distraction during a tumultuous time. That is when I learned the power of theater arts. When first discovering my passion for musical theatre, I drew my love for performing from blueprints that lie within movies such as The Princess And The Frog. As I have grown as a performer, I have learned to fuel my drive with my performances and goals. I no longer look for outside sources of passion but within myself and my craft. My love of theatre is now rooted in the feelings that I cultivate within my audience. My reason for choosing musical theatre and continuing to choose it is not one of self desire, but the desire to provide unique and possibly life-changing productions for diverse audiences. In this lies my purpose of performance: to challenge outlooks and narratives that constrain creativity and withhold opportunities from those who seek them. I believe that theatrical performances or any liberal art forms of expression should be readily available to all forms of viewers, no matter race or gender. A continuous cycle I find within performance training is the disparity of opportunities for youth and adults who wish to pursue the arts, in marginalized groups to be more specific. As I grow my performing arts career, I am determined to open a Performing Arts Academy for adolescent teens who have begun their performance careers or wish to begin them. I believe it is essential for young performers to grow in a progressive learning environment that caters to their creative needs. I have felt the impact of programs such as this and want to implement the same wisdom in future performers. In all my performances, I want my audience to leave with a sentiment unfelt within them before. A sentiment that I felt when first watching The Princess And The Frog. A feeling of euphoria and adornment for all things creative and expressive. That is the meaning of impactful theatre and the very theatre I want to portray throughout the entirety of my creative career.

The Princess And The Frog musical movie was a monumental experience for me as a child. I watched this movie repeatedly, memorizing every dance, song, and line. At the tender age of three, it gave me a chance to sing and act for others on the stages of family reunions and my grandmother's event space. Singing and acting for others gave me joy, and it gave others joy, too. In less than ten years, the pandemic would take over the world, leaving me at home to figure out what to do with the remainder of seventh grade. But that movie saved me. In the early days of lockdown, a good friend and I recited each and every word of the movie, from start to finish, to pass the time. As a young child, the movie made me happy; as a preteen, it gave me relief and distraction during a tumultuous time. That is when I learned the power of theater arts. When first discovering my passion for theatre, I drew my love for performing from blueprints that lie within movies such as The Princess And The Frog. As I have grown as a performer, I have learned to fuel my drive with my performances and goals. I no longer look for outside sources of passion but within myself and my craft. My love of theatre is now rooted in the feelings that I cultivate within my audience. My reason for choosing theatre and continuing to choose it is not one of self desire, but the desire to provide unique and possibly life-changing productions for diverse audiences. In this lies my purpose of performance: to challenge outlooks and narratives that constrain creativity and withhold opportunities from those who seek them. I believe that theatrical performances or any liberal art forms of expression should be readily available to all forms of viewers, no matter race or gender. A continuous cycle I find within performance training is the disparity of opportunities for youth and adults who wish to pursue the arts, in marginalized groups to be more specific. As I grow my performing arts career, I am determined to open a Performing Arts Academy for adolescent teens who have begun their performance careers or wish to begin them. I believe it is essential for young performers to grow in a progressive learning environment that caters to their creative needs. I have felt the impact of programs such as this and want to implement the same wisdom in future performers. In all my performances, I want my audience to leave with a sentiment unfelt within them before. A sentiment that I felt when first watching The Princess And The Frog. A feeling of euphoria and adornment for all things creative and expressive. That is the meaning of impactful theatre and the very theatre I want to portray throughout the entirety of my creative career

The Princess And The Frog musical movie was a monumental experience for me as a young child. I watched this movie over and over, memorizing every dance, song, and line. At the tender age of three years old, it gave me a chance to sing and act for others on the stages of family reunions and my grandmother's event space. Singing and acting for others gave me joy, and it gave others joy, too. In less 10 years, the pandemic would take over the world, leaving me at home to figure out what to do with the remainder of my seventh grade year. But that movie saved me. In the early days of lock-down, a good friend and I recited each and every word of the movie, from start to finish, to pass the time. As a young child, the movie made me happy; as a preteen, it gave me relief and distraction during a tumultuous time. That is when I learned the power of theater arts. When the world allowed us to return to school, I was in the ninth grade. It was then that I decided to learn more about theater and joined the drama club, where I gained foundational experiences that taught me to shapeshift, explore characters, and influence the hearts of the audience. My future artistic goals start with continuing to hone my crafts through different learning experiences and fieldwork. The reason I choose theatre is to provide unique and life-changing productions for diverse audiences. With my artistry, I hope to change outlooks and change the narrative around performers of color. One of my many goals for the future is to start a Performing Arts Academy for adolescent teens who have begun their performance careers. This Is a goal of mine because I have felt the importance of having a progressive learning environment that caters to my creative needs. With my collective experiences, I hope to leave an imprint in the world of performance. I believe that all people have the ability to accomplish what they truly desire, even though many say that is wishful thinking. I personally have to maintain this mindset to keep me from becoming doubtful. If I were to succumb to everyone else's beliefs, I would simply not be who I am. I'm outside of the thinker, who believes that with enough work and dedication, you can wholeheartedly grasp your intended goals. This drive carries over to my determination to consistently work at the best of my ability, no matter the task. In the performance world, you must always be at the top of your game and be ready for anything thrown at you.