I have always found musical theatre to be freeing. Getting to step into someone else’s skin and see life through a different perspective takes a weight off my shoulders and helps me understand the world more fully. It has also made me more self-aware as I have gotten older. Because of this, music has become my escape. When emotions become too heightened, the best way for me to release them is through song, a therapeutic form of expression. What I love most about music is its universality: no matter where you are in the world, it is something anyone can understand, regardless of race, gender, or nationality. That connection began early. I’ve grown up on a musical theatre track, and when I was little, Seth’s Big Fat Broadway station was always on in the car. My mom would quiz me on Broadway divas and distinctive voices like Ethel Merman and Mandy Patinkin, immersing me in storytelling through song from a young age. Still, it wasn’t until I saw Parade on Broadway that everything clicked. In that moment, I realized I could never fathom pursuing a different career. Watching the simplicity of Ben Platt’s “It’s Hard to Speak My Heart” altered the trajectory of my life—beyond his voice, his eyes alone told the story, and that’s what drew me in. From then on, performing became more than something I loved. It became how I make sense of the world. Stepping into another universe and becoming someone new has deepened my understanding of both others and myself. Music continues to be my outlet, reinforcing my belief that it is a form of therapy with a unique ability to heal, connect, and resonate with people everywhere. Because of this, I cannot imagine pursuing anything besides musical theatre as a career. It has shaped who I am, and I know I would be a different person without it. While I recognize the competitive nature of the profession, I am confident in my perseverance and versatility. I understand that success in this field requires dedication, hard work, and a willingness to adapt, and I am prepared to meet those challenges. My passion for storytelling and music will guide me, and I hope to make a meaningful impact, not just in my own life, but in the lives of others. That passion is reflected in the roles I’ve had the opportunity to play. I have been fortunate to take on a range of characters, with my favorites being Penelope Pennywise in Urinetown and Olive Ostrovsky in …Spelling Bee. Though vastly different, both roles challenged me vocally and required thoughtful acting choices to portray them as real people rather than caricatures. Experiences like these have only deepened my love for the craft. In that same vein, my dream role is Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd, a character I would do just about anything (short of making people into pies) to play. Ultimately, what draws me most to this art form is its ability to communicate without words. As Norma Desmond says in Sunset Boulevard, the most powerful thing an actor can do is tell a story “with one look.” To convey a lifetime of stories without firsthand experience is, to me, pure magic.

Norma Desmond says it best in Sunset Boulevard: the most powerful thing an actor can do is tell a story “with one look.” That, to me, is the true magic of performance—the ability to convey lifetimes of experience, emotion, and truth without ever having lived them firsthand. That moment of silent storytelling, where the audience leans in without even realizing it, is what I live for. For me, musical theatre has always been freeing. Stepping into someone else’s skin, exploring life through a different lens, is both a release and a revelation. It lifts the weight off my shoulders while grounding me in deeper self-awareness. Through performance, I’ve come to understand myself and the world more clearly. Music, in particular, is my escape. When emotions become too heightened for words, song becomes my therapy. It is a universal language—one that transcends race, gender, and nationality. No matter where you are in the world, music connects people in a way nothing else can. I’ve been on a musical theatre track for as long as I can remember. Growing up, Seth’s Big Fat Broadway was the soundtrack of every car ride. My mom would quiz me on Broadway divas and teach me to recognize the distinctive voices of legends like Ethel Merman and Mandy Patinkin. But it wasn’t until I saw Parade on Broadway that I truly realized this was the only path for me. Watching Ben Platt perform “It’s Hard to Speak My Heart” was a transformative experience. His voice was stunning, yes—but it was his eyes that told the story. In that moment, I understood the depth and power of acting in a way I never had before. I want to be part of productions that reflect society back at us—shows that make people feel, think, and even squirm a little in their seats. My favorite moments in theatre are the ones that haunt you: Leo Frank’s hanging in Parade, Orpheus turning around in Hadestown. These moments live long after the curtain falls. I want to help create that kind of impact. I love performing because it helps me understand the world better. It allows me to live a thousand lives while exploring my own in the process. It’s both an escape and a mirror. As I grow older, I’ve come to appreciate the healing nature of music more and more. Song is where I go when I can’t find the right words—and I believe that’s true for so many others, too. Pursuing a career in musical theatre isn’t a choice I made lightly, but it is the only choice that feels right. I understand how competitive this industry is, but I’m prepared for that challenge. I know that success requires more than talent—it demands resilience, constant growth, and the willingness to put in the work every single day. I’m ready to embrace all of it, because I can’t imagine doing anything else. Musical theatre has shaped me, and I know it will continue to shape me as I grow. One of the most rewarding roles I’ve played so far has been Penelope Pennywise in Urinetown. It was an exhilarating challenge to bring such a bold, exaggerated character to life while still keeping her grounded in reality. The role pushed me to explore big facial expressions, large gestures, and a booming voice—all while staying vocally healthy through a demanding score. What made this role especially meaningful was its relevance; Urinetown feels strikingly poignant in today’s world, and I was proud to be part of telling that story. Plus, I got to sing my favorite song ever on stage, which made the experience even more unforgettable. Looking ahead, one dream role of mine is Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd. She’s such a wild, layered character—hilarious, a little unhinged, and somehow still deeply relatable. I love how she blends comedy and darkness in such a unique way. Playing her would be such a fun challenge, both vocally and emotionally. Getting to explore her twisted logic, her loneliness, and her charm all at once would be an unforgettable experience. I think there’s something so exciting about making an audience laugh one minute and feel totally unsettled the next. An actor is like a magician. Every choice, every tactic, is a sleight of hand. With time and experience, the tricks get smoother, more seamless. That’s what I strive for—to collect the tools, refine the craft, and one day be able to tell an entire story with just a look.

Norma Desmond says it best in the musical Sunset Boulevard. The most powerful thing an actor can do is tell a story “with one look.” To be able to convey a lifetime of stories without actually having first hand experience is magical.   I’ve always found musical theatre to be freeing. Getting to step into someone else’s skin and see life through a perspective different from my own takes a weight off my shoulders–helping me understand the world better. And it has made me more self-aware as I have gotten older. Music is my escape. When emotions get too heightened, the best way for me to let them out is through song, a therapeutic form of expression. My favorite thing about music is that no matter where in the world you are, it’s something anyone can understand, no matter their race, gender, or nationality.  I’ve grown up on a musical theatre track. When I was little, Seth's Big Fat Broadway station would be on every time I was in the car. My mom would quiz me on the Broadway divas and distinctive voices like Ethel Merman and Mandy Patinkin. However, when I saw Parade on Broadway, I realized that I could never fathom pursuing a different career. Watching the simplicity in Ben Platt’s “It’s Hard to Speak My Heart”, altered the trajectory of my life. Beyond his glorious voice, his eyes alone told the story. That’s what drew me in.  An actor is like a magician. Every tactic played is a slight of hand trick. The more an actor grows, the more tools they acquire and the smoother those tricks become. I am in awe of the stories expressed through an actor’s eyes.

Billie Eilish’s music has had a huge impact on me over the past few years. There’s something about the way she writes—raw, honest, and emotionally real—that makes her songs feel incredibly personal. Whether I’m feeling down, reflective, or just need to escape for a few minutes, her music always seems to meet me right where I am. I seriously jam out every time “bad guy” comes on. It might not be Billie’s most emotional or deep song, but that’s kind of the point, it’s just so fun and different. The beat is super catchy, and her playful, almost sarcastic tone makes it impossible not to bop along. I catch myself dancing or nodding my head to it every time, no matter where I am. It’s got this quirky, unique vibe that totally sets it apart from other songs out there. It never gets old. It’s one of those tracks that instantly boosts my mood. Another Billie Eilish song that I truly love is “my future.” There’s something incredibly comforting and inspiring about it. It fills me with a sense of hope that I sometimes forget I need, especially in depressive episodes. Even though growing up feels uncertain, this song reminds me that it's okay to look forward to the future with excitement rather than fear. As much as part of me is sad to leave certain things behind, I’m learning to embrace the unknown and trust that good things are ahead. Billie’s lyrics remind me that it's not only okay to focus on myself, but necessary, and that the future can be something to look forward to, even if I don't have all the answers yet. Being okay with the unknown is something I greatly struggle with. But my favorite Billie Eilish song is “What Was I Made For.” It might sound cliché, but it truly feels like the song was written just for me. I connect deeply with every single lyric. The first time I heard the song, I remember tear tracks running down my face as I was so moved by the melody and the lyrics. For years, I’ve struggled with severe anxiety and depression, and throughout high school, I often felt trapped in my own mind. Like Billie, I often thought, “I think I forgot how to be happy,” and that line in particular has always struck a chord with me. It perfectly captures a feeling I know all too well. But despite the weight of those emotions, I’ve been working hard every day to understand myself better and grow into a stronger, more hopeful version of who I am.