Every family has stories that they tell over and over again. Mine begins with hundreds of handwritten letters from Trivandrum crossing an ocean, and the story of the Congressional Bill that hangs on a wall in my home. Stories of two people who believed that one opportunity could change generations. They were right. Although I was raised in Northern Virginia, India has never felt far away. It lives in the Sanskrit prayers said around my dinner table, singing bhajans, and in the values my grandparents carried with them from India: resilience, humility, education, and service. Before my grandfather ever arrived in the United States in 1954, he wrote hundreds of letters to companies across the country, searching for someone willing to give him a chance. After countless rejections, one letter finally received a yes. My grandmother's journey from Chennai also required perseverance. The immigration quota from India at the time was 100 per year, and she came dangerously close to being deported before legislation allowed her to remain. Had either story ended differently, my own would never have begun. Growing up with those stories made every opportunity feel tangible. Acceptance letters, the auditions I walked into, and every dream I dared to pursue existed because my grandparents refused to stop believing in possibilities they could not yet see. Like many Indian American students, I grew up balancing expectations. Education was never simply encouraged; it was viewed as a privilege earned through sacrifice. At the same time, I found myself drawn toward a path that is less traditional within my community. As an Indian American girl, I rarely saw people who looked like me pursuing careers in musical theatre. Onstage, South Asian stories and performers were few and far between, making it difficult to imagine myself in those spaces. Until I realized representation begins with someone choosing to take a risk and step into the spotlight. Looking back, I realize I have approached my artistic journey with the same mindset my grandparents approached theirs: believing in possibilities before there was any guarantee they would exist. Their courage to pursue an uncertain future gave me the confidence to pursue an unconventional one. This fall, I will attend New York University's Tisch School of the Arts to study Drama. Pursuing a theatre education has been my dream, but it comes with a significant financial burden. It is almost double the in-state tuition my parents have diligently saved for and comes with a much more uncertain return on investment. I have received no financial aid from NYU and a scholarship would help lessen that burden of the student loans I must take. Whenever I think about my future, I think back to those stories. My grandfather, sealing another envelope hoping someone would say yes and my grandmother, refusing to let a quota determine the rest of her life. Their resilience opened doors most people would never know existed. My goal is to honor that legacy by walking through every one they opened for me.

The first time I stepped onstage, I wasn't supposed to fall in love with theatre. I was nine years old, cast as the Baker's Wife in Into the Woods Jr. after desperately hoping to play the Witch because she got to rap. At the time, I was deep in my Hamilton obsession and thought the coolest thing a performer could do was sing fast. Instead, I found myself playing a character I hadn't wanted, standing under hot stage lights, speaking words written by someone else. Somewhere between rehearsals and opening night, something shifted. I realized theatre wasn't about pretending to be someone else. It was about understanding someone else. That discovery has kept me returning to the stage for nearly a decade. As an Indian American girl growing up in Northern Virginia, I often felt caught between different worlds. Success sometimes seemed already mapped out for me: excel academically, pursue a practical career, and follow a predictable path. While I valued those expectations and the sacrifices my family made to create opportunities for me, I rarely saw people who looked like me pursuing careers in the arts. Onstage, Indian girls were often absent from the stories being told, and offstage, artistic careers were often viewed as unrealistic. Theatre became the place where every version of myself could exist at once. It allowed me to embrace both my heritage and my creativity. Through theatre, I found a community that valued curiosity, imagination, and individuality. Every role challenged me to step into someone else's shoes and leave with greater empathy. As I grew older, I recognized how meaningful representation can be. I thought about the younger version of myself searching for performers who looked like her and wondering whether she belonged. Seeing more South Asian artists succeed on Broadway and in film gave me the confidence to believe there was room for my voice too. I want to help create a future where other young artists never question whether they belong. I have watched audiences laugh together, cry together, and leave a theatre carrying a story that changed the way they see the world. There is something magical about a room full of strangers breathing in unison, connected by a story unfolding before them. In an increasingly divided world, theatre creates community. Yet its greatest impact has been on me. Theatre has shaped the way I move through the world. It taught me confidence when I was afraid to take up space, resilience when auditions tested my determination, and empathy by asking me to inhabit lives far different from my own. Audrey (Little Shop of Horrors) taught me vulnerability, Ilse (Spring Awakening) taught me compassion, and Reno (Anything Goes) taught me boldness. Through theatre, I learned not only how to perform, but how to listen, collaborate, lead, and connect with others. This fall, I will attend New York University to study Drama. While my future goals continue to evolve, one thing remains constant: I want to spend my life telling stories. Whether I am performing, creating, directing, or advocating for the arts, I hope to give others the same sense of belonging and inspiration that theatre has given me. Theatre transformed a nine-year-old girl who only wanted to play the Witch into an artist who understands that the real magic has never been the applause or the role itself. It is the way a story can connect people, reveal truths about ourselves, and leave us changed long after the curtain falls.

The experiences that have shaped my life most are rooted in service, hard work, and a commitment to helping others. From a young age, my parents taught me that giving back to your community is not something you do occasionally; it is a responsibility. For nearly my entire life, my family has volunteered monthly in Washington, D.C., preparing lunches and serving meals to individuals experiencing homelessness. Whether we were assembling sandwiches at our kitchen table, volunteering at food banks, or sharing meals with those in need, these experiences taught me the importance of compassion, gratitude, and treating every person with dignity. As I grew older, service became something I pursued on my own as well. In middle school, I joined Best Buddies, where I worked with students with intellectual and developmental disabilities. That experience opened my eyes to the importance of inclusion and helped me realize how meaningful it is to make others feel welcomed and valued. It also inspired me to seek out more opportunities to work with individuals with disabilities throughout high school. I began working my freshman year as a lead performer with Vienna Singing Princesses, balancing employment with a demanding academic schedule, extracurricular activities, and leadership positions. While my job centers around entertaining children, some of my most meaningful experiences have been working with children with disabilities and older autistic adults at community and charitable events. These encounters have taught me patience, adaptability, and the power of creating moments of joy for others. Seeing someone light up because they feel included or understood is one of the most rewarding experiences I have had. Beyond my volunteer work and employment, I have sought opportunities to serve my school community as well. As President of my school's Political Science Club, I have organized civic engagement activities, educational programs, and discussions that encourage students to become informed and active members of their communities. Through leadership, I have learned that creating positive change often begins with bringing people together and helping them feel heard. This fall, I will attend New York University to study Drama while also pursuing a second major in public policy. I hope to use both fields to make a positive impact. Theater has the unique ability to build empathy by allowing audiences to see the world through someone else's perspective, while public service creates opportunities to improve lives directly. In both areas, my goal is the same: to help people feel seen, understood, and supported. Outside of school, my greatest passion is theater. Performing has taught me confidence, resilience, and teamwork while giving me a creative outlet to connect with others. Whether on stage, in my community, or in my future career, I want to use my talents to make a difference. The people who motivate me most are my parents. Through their example of service, generosity, and hard work, they taught me that success is not measured by what you achieve for yourself, but by what you do for others. Their values continue to guide me as I work toward a future centered on leadership, compassion, and service.

A script is only a fraction of a character’s story. The rest exists between the lines; in the history they inherit, the society they navigate, and the beliefs they carry without ever speaking aloud. As an actor, uncovering those hidden layers is one of my favorite parts of the creative process. Before I can portray a character honestly, I want to understand the world that shaped them. It is this pursuit of understanding that has convinced me that the liberal arts and theatre are inseparable. Some of my favorite moments as a performer happen long before opening night. They occur at my desk, surrounded by articles, historical documents, and notes scribbled in the margins of a script. When I played Ilse in Spring Awakening, I became fascinated by the rigid social expectations and cultural pressures of late nineteenth-century Germany. When preparing for Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes, I found myself drawn to the optimism, glamour, and changing social landscape of the 1930s. The more I learned about the worlds these characters inhabited, the more vividly they came alive. Their choices no longer felt like lines on a page; they felt like natural responses to the circumstances around them. That process is what I love most about theatre. Every role is an opportunity to step into another life and ask questions. What shaped this person’s values? What does their society reward or condemn? How do their relationships, fears, and ambitions influence the choices they make? The answers rarely come from the script alone. They emerge through history, politics, literature, philosophy, and psychology; the very disciplines that form the foundation of a liberal arts education. My passion for political science has strengthened my work as an artist in ways I never anticipated. As President of my school's Political Science Club, I have spent countless hours discussing public policy, current events, elections, and the ways institutions shape people's lives. Those conversations have taught me that no individual exists in isolation. Every person is influenced by larger social forces, just as the world around them influences every character. Political science has trained me to analyze systems and perspectives; theatre has taught me to humanize them. Together, they have given me a deeper understanding of both people and storytelling. The liberal arts also cultivate skills that are essential to a successful career in theatre. Literature teaches close reading. Philosophy encourages curiosity and critical thinking. Psychology explores human behavior and motivation. History reveals the contexts that shape our stories. These disciplines challenge students to ask questions rather than accept easy answers, a mindset that is invaluable when approaching a role, directing a production, or creating original work. Most importantly, the liberal arts foster empathy. Theatre invites audiences to see the world through someone else’s eyes, and empathy is what makes that experience meaningful. The more perspectives we study, the more capable we become of telling stories with honesty and nuance. In a world that often feels increasingly divided, both theatre and the liberal arts remind us of our shared humanity. This fall, I will attend New York University to study Drama while also pursuing a double major in public policy. To many people, those fields may seem unrelated. To me, they are deeply connected. Both seek to understand people: their motivations, their struggles, their communities, and their dreams. Theatre gives those stories a voice, while the liberal arts provide the knowledge and perspective necessary to tell them well. Together, they make us not only better artists, but also better observers, thinkers, and citizens of the world.