Becoming Through Performance The music crescendoed. The lights intensified. All that remained was a yearning to convey a meaning- a deep longing to fully share the Hadestown story as I performed the role of Orpheus. I finally had the guts to risk everything- all feelings, thoughts and expressions of the character were mine to convey. I felt a surge of confidence. I let all the emotions flow through me as I became him. It was life changing. Joy, inspiration and hope filled the theater. As I belted the last note, the audience stood to their feet in applause. That incredible moment has filled my heart because that is when I knew I had found my calling- not just as a performer, but as a storyteller meant to stir powerful emotions. Performing has become my way of connecting with people on a deeper level. I love how a single song, a line, or even a look can make someone feel seen. That’s what keeps me coming back—the ability to create emotion, spark empathy, and bring stories to life in a way that stays with people long after the curtain closes. After I graduate, I plan to fully pursue a career in performance, especially in musical theater. My goal, without question, is Broadway. But I also understand that getting there takes more than just talent—it takes discipline, training, and perseverance. I plan to continue studying acting, voice, and dance at the collegiate level, while auditioning for shows and building experience and connections anywhere I can. I’m ready for the hard work that comes with this path because I know how much it means to me. I don’t just want to perform—I want to grow into an artist who can consistently deliver meaningful, impactful work. A big part of why I’ve chosen this path comes from the people who believed in me before I fully believed in myself. Growing up, my life wasn’t always easy. Being in a low-income family with a single mom on disability was tough. But watching my mom navigate life with epileptic seizures and migraines showed me what strength really looks like. Even when things were unpredictable and scary, she pushed forward. That resilience has stayed with me. She taught me you must turn struggle into song. It shaped how I approach challenges, both in life and on stage. Looking ahead, my dream roles are the ones that demand everything from you—the ones that leave you changed by the end of the show. Roles like Pony Boy in The Outsiders. As a proud Puerto Rican man, Usnavi, of In the Heights, also inspires me. They both carry so much heart, struggle, and truth. Those are the kinds of characters I want to bring to life—ones that audiences can connect to and see themselves in. At the end of the day, performing is more than a career goal for me. It’s how I make sense of the world. It’s how I turn challenges into something meaningful. My journey has had trials, tribulations and triumphs and it’s given me a voice I plan to fully use. I want to create work that inspires people, that makes them feel connected, and that sparks their own strength. Because for me, the stage isn’t just a place to perform. It’s a place to become.

Becoming Through Performance The music crescendoed. The lights intensified. All that remained was a yearning to convey a meaning- a deep longing to fully share the Hadestown story as I performed the role of Orpheus. I finally had the guts to risk everything- all feelings, thoughts and expressions of the character were mine to convey. I felt a surge of confidence. I let all the emotions flow through me as I became him. It was life changing. Joy, inspiration and hope filled the theater. As I belted the last note, the audience stood to their feet in applause. That incredible moment has filled my heart because that is when I knew I had found my calling- not just as a performer, but as a storyteller meant to stir powerful emotions. Performing has become my way of connecting with people on a deeper level. I love how a single song, a line, or even a look can make someone feel seen. That’s what keeps me coming back—the ability to create emotion, spark empathy, and bring stories to life in a way that stays with people long after the curtain closes. After I graduate, I plan to fully pursue a career in performance, especially in musical theater. My goal, without question, is Broadway. But I also understand that getting there takes more than just talent—it takes discipline, training, and perseverance. I plan to continue studying acting, voice, and dance at the collegiate level, while auditioning for shows and building experience and connections anywhere I can. I’m ready for the hard work that comes with this path because I know how much it means to me. I don’t just want to perform—I want to grow into an artist who can consistently deliver meaningful, impactful work. A big part of why I’ve chosen this path comes from the people who believed in me before I fully believed in myself. Growing up, my life wasn’t always easy. Being in a low-income family with a single mom on disability was tough. But watching my mom navigate life with epileptic seizures and migraines showed me what strength really looks like. Even when things were unpredictable and scary, she pushed forward. That resilience has stayed with me. She taught me you must turn struggle into song. It shaped how I approach challenges, both in life and on stage. Alongside her, my teachers and mentors—people like Kevin, Brent, Ryan, and Mr. C—helped guide me toward my potential with generosity. They didn’t just teach me technique; they taught me how to tell the truth through performance. They showed me that fear isn’t something to run from—it’s something you utilize. That idea changed everything for me. It’s how I’ve learned to step into auditions, rehearsals, and performances- to use those moments of uncertainty to learn from and to help you grow the most. I’ve been fortunate to perform in many productions over the years, each one shaping me in a different way. Playing Orpheus stands out as my favorite role so far because it challenged me the most emotionally and vocally. It required vulnerability, trust, and a willingness to fully commit. I also loved being Eddie Birdlace in shows like Dogfight, where I was able to explore complex relationships and storytelling in a more grounded, emotional way. Every role I’ve taken on has taught me something new—about the craft, about people, and about myself. Looking ahead, my dream roles are the ones that demand everything from you—the ones that leave you changed by the end of the show. Roles like Pony Boy in The Outsiders. As a proud Puerto Rican man, Usnavi, of In the Heights, also inspires me. They both carry so much heart, struggle, and truth. Those are the kinds of characters I want to bring to life—ones that audiences can connect to and see themselves in. At the end of the day, performing is more than a career goal for me. It’s how I make sense of the world. It’s how I turn challenges into something meaningful. My journey has had trials, tribulations and triumphs and it’s given me a voice I plan to fully use. I want to create work that inspires people, that makes them feel connected, and that sparks their own strength. Because for me, the stage isn’t just a place to perform. It’s a place to become.

When I was younger, I was the quiet kid—the one who could make people laugh but would rather stay in the background. I didn’t always know how to use my voice or trust it. That started to change the moment I found musical theater. It wasn’t just the songs or the characters—it was how the stage demanded honesty and presence. Little by little, it pulled out a version of me I hadn’t met before: confident, bold, and alive. Of course, the fear never completely disappeared. For every high—a solo that landed, an audition that went well—there were hours of doubt. Am I really good enough? Do I even belong here? Broadway didn’t just feel like a dream; it felt like part of me. And that made the thought of failing feel terrifying. But growing up in dance, acting, and theater taught me something important: you can’t fake it on stage. The audience sees everything—your fear, your joy, your doubt, your spark. That’s the magic. The stage forces you to choose courage, to step forward as your full self. Sometimes it’s just one breath, one step into the light—but that choice changes you. Then I met Kevin Herrera. When I was cast as Orpheus in Hadestown, he didn’t just guide me through the music or blocking—he helped me face my fears. He reminded me theater isn’t about being flawless; it’s about being human. And whenever I thought I had reached my potential, he’d push me to see the character from another perspective. Suddenly, I’d uncover a newfound truth in Orpheus, and with it, another level in myself I didn’t know existed. That experience changed how I saw myself as a performer. Instead of ever settling, I learned to keep digging for authenticity. Kevin showed me the magic of theater is in those moments when you stop acting and start becoming. He also changed the way I saw fear. Kevin taught me nerves mean you care—that they’re proof the moment matters. I began to see auditions and performances not as trials to survive but as opportunities to grow. His influence has stayed with me long after Hadestown. Whenever I doubt myself, I hear his voice reminding me to look again, to see the role from a new angle, to trust what I bring to the stage. Kevin didn’t just make me a better actor—he made me believe I have a future in this art. He is a huge reason I feel inspired to continue pursuing a career in musical theater. Theater—and mentors like Kevin—have taught me perseverance and hope. Every failure carries a lesson. Every success is earned. The stage isn’t just where I perform—it’s where I become. Every time I step onstage, I’m not just playing a role. I’m proving to myself I know my worth and I'm no longer the shy kid hiding in the corner. Fear and self-doubt may still show up, but they don’t get the final call. I do.