I am a playwright, dramaturg, and director located in Philadelphia. Currently getting her M.F.A musical theater collaboration from Temple University. For the past six years, I’ve been creating opportunities for new work to be produced and developed within Indianapolis and now Philadelphia as well. I’ve never wavered in what I wanted to do. I know that it might seem like an oxymoron to be a writer in light of having a learning disability, but what human isn't a ball of contradictions? I write from what’s real. The type of stories and theater that cuts me to my core are stories where we get to see behind the curtain. The female voice, family, generational trauma, and otherized voices are themes within my style and writing.
When I look in the mirror, what looks back at me is an amalgamation of vulnerability, joy, heart, and audacity. I see the world through a different lens than most. That lens, being a neurodivergent one, provides me with resilience and drive. I want to make a difference, but will I make a difference to those who come after me, and to the kids who aren’t seen because of their disability? Recently, I was faced with this exact situation. I was teaching playwriting and storytelling to young theater artists. One quiet, albeit a little odd, student took a keen interest in the topic. She was eager and exuberant with the stories she wanted to tell. By the end of the week, she told me she likes to write outside of camp, but she doesn't like showing anyone because she's dyslexic. She’s always afraid they’ll make fun of her because of it. When she said that, my heart sank.
Because when I was her age, I was afraid of the same thing. I am a servant to the process of creating theater that is unapologetically authentic because now, when I look in the mirror, I see that student. I see that I’m here to make a difference for her and all the young neurodivergent people, that there is a way to make space in this neurotypical world for them.