On Kavanaugh: Time’s up.

On Kavanaugh: Time’s up.

We’re all on edge over the next justice that will be placed onto our United States Supreme Court. Dr. Christine Beasley Ford told her story yesterday to millions of people, trembling with each word she said. Supreme Court Justice nominee Brett Kavanaugh lied his way under oath about everything he has done and said (come on, someone who is innocent wouldn’t jump down the throats of everyone who was asking questions he didn’t want to answer.)

We don’t get to decided who the victim or survivor is. We need to listen to the stories of sexual harassment, sexual assault and rape from survivors themselves. We need to get uncomfortable while listening to these stories because it happens too often, every 98 seconds too often. We need to understand that coming forward is not an easy choice.

It’s not something that’s decided overnight. It’s not the victim/survivor’s fault over what happened to them.

While I was in college, I couldn’t tell you how many stories I’ve listened to about a boyfriend who assaulted their girlfriend because, “you should do this for me.” I’ve heard the story about going out where, “he followed me home.” I’ve listened to countless, “I said no.” I can’t keep track of how many stories I heard where, “he seemed like a nice guy” came up. Don’t even get me started on the, “I still have nightmares.”

It’s heartbreaking and infuriating. It’s daunting and confusing. It’s scary and all too real.

I don’t recall ever meeting a women who hasn’t been assaulted in someway, shape or form. It’s as if it’s a right of passage to be assaulted, something we should expect to happen in our lifetime.

I mean, statistics don’t lie. Will I be the 1 in 3? 1 in 4? 1 in 5? 1 in 6?

Women of color are less likely to report an assault or rape than a white woman.

47% of transgender people will be assaulted in their lifetime.

Native American women are 3.5 times more likely to face assault and rape due to isolation and lack of resources.

46% of bisexual women have been raped, compared to straight women.

We’ve been conditioned with these thoughts and questions:

Boys will be boys.

Maybe if you didn’t drink so much, nothing would have happened.

Are you sure you weren’t leading him on?

Why didn’t you just say yes?

What were you wearing?

You’re going to ruin his future.

He’s a nice guy.

Are you sure it was actually rape?

Why didn’t use report it?

Why didn’t you report it? The whole point of this entire thought.

The reason why women do not come forward about their trauma and experience is because we’ve been taught that rape, sexual assault, harassment of any kind, doesn’t really happen.

We’ve been taught that if we don’t talk about it, then it’s not real.

We’ve been taught that there is no possible way that someone could control another person’s body and feelings.

We’ve been taught to blame the victim/survivor than the rapist.

We’ve been taught that these cases go no where.

We’ve been taught that justice can never be served.

You don’t have the right to tell a survivor when it’s time for her/them to come forward. You don’t have the right to discredit their experience. You will never, ever, understand the pain they carry with them day in and day out until you’ve lived it yourself. 

Survivors are called survivors because they’ve had to live through the fear of knowing that saying no could mean whether they live or die.

I’m looking at you Republicans a part of the Senate Judiciary Committee, don’t you dare call Kavanaugh a victim in all of this when a women looked at you dead in the eyes, painted the chilling pictures of her experience of sexual assault. How dare you discredit her story when her life was ruined before it could begin when she was in high school. He had a choice, he made his bed, he lied on top of her against her will  in that bed and now the truth is out. And it pisses you off because the truth can’t be a lie.

There are so many men who have committed such crimes that continue to receive praise and support  – Trump, Weinstein, Lauer, Moovnes, Kavanaugh, Louis –  that they’re seemingly untouchable; they’ll never receive punishment for what they did. People think, “Oh, think of their lives that will be ruined! Think of the good name they made for themselves, he’s never done anything wrong before! Why didn’t she come forward earlier? He’s a reputable man.”

That sort of mindset is our problem.

It can take years for survivors to even begin to talk about their experience. A women doesn’t come forward for the hell of it. Believe me, anyone who is a survivor of sexual harassment, assault or rape, the last thing they want to do is relive and vocalize a play-by-play of their experience to people they don’t even know. The people who have come forward in the last year have done so because injustice is still happening and we need to fix it. That’s why Dr. Ford came forward, as she said, as a civic duty.

Survivors are conditioned from societal expectations to let their experience go, move on and live their life as if nothing ever happened. I’m sure that’s what happened with Dr. Ford and countless other women who were attacked by these boys (yes, boys) that have been exposed and those who’s times have yet to come. They all came forward to tell us, the people and public, what each powerful white boy has done. If we don’t say something, they’ll keep getting away with it and we will perpetrate the same toxic culture we’ve been conditioned with since the world was created.

If you are a survivor: you are loved, you are valued, we believe you and it’s not your fault. It’s never too late to come forward. It’s never too late to use your voice. It’s never too late to stand up for what’s right. It’s never too late to put the power back into your hands. It’s never too late to put privileged individuals in their damn place.

We can’t be afraid anymore. Our time is now.

Time’s up on sexual predators. Time’s up on the rapists. Time’s up on serial attackers. Time’s on white, privileged, cis-men to say who’s a “real” victim. Time’s up on the GOP.

Time is up on all of this bullshit. If we want change, we have to vote them out. Stand up for what you believe in. They’re hearing us, it’s time for them to listen.





September – PCOS Awareness Month

September – PCOS Awareness Month

I’m a pretty open book when it comes to my life, I’ve reeled in quite a bit during the last year, but this topic hits a little closer to home. I’ve mentioned this once on social media, but I’ve only really talked about it with my close friends and family. If you’ve been reading, even briefly, the news on women’s health, this conversation is important now more than ever. So, here we go!

Since I was a teenager, I’ve always had acne and irregular cycles. I thought it was because I was (still am) overweight, how I handled stress from school, and the hormones that were changing during puberty never settled. There was never a moment during my youth where I didn’t have acne; seriously, a new one showed up every single day. I constantly gained weight, and my periods? I was lucky if I could count on one hand how many I’d get in a given year.

Fast-forward to sophomore year of college, I got my appendix removed. My surgeon, while performing surgery, noticed my ovaries were quite larger than normal. He didn’t know what it meant or if there was anything necessarily wrong, he just knew something wasn’t right. Since it was out of his field of practice, he suggested to my mom we get the pictures he took examined further by my primary or a gynecologist.

Thinking to myself, “What does he know? He’s a man!”

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Needless to say, I was reluctant to talk about my large ovaries. I mean, everything else on my body is large, why should I be surprised of largeness on the inside?!

During my follow-up post surgery, my primary said nothing looked wrong based on the pictures. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. When I looked at the images, they did look larger. It wouldn’t surprise me if that was the beginning of developing PCOS.

Fast-forward to April 2018. As a surprise, like normal, I get my period. I go through my cycle, all is good in the world. Not even a week later while I’m getting ready for work, this pain like no other comes over me. I’m warm, I feel like knifes are twisting inside my uterus. The pain was a solid 12. Come to realize after the pain had past, I was shedding large chunks of my uterine lining. To compare, the pain felt like I was pushing out an egg each time this lining came through.

All this time while I wasn’t getting a period, the lining my uterus was forming didn’t detach and come through with my period, as it normally does in order for a new cycle to begin. The thin uterine lining that forms, produced by hormones, is its way of preparing for a baby. In my case, each time a new cycle started, even when I wasn’t physically getting my period, the lining kept building up until one day it decided it needed to vacate the facility.

For about two months, I bled profusely. I missed countless days of work because the pain became too much. I felt my body contracting just to get the lining out of my system; this was more painful than the agony I felt before I got my appendix removed. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on my worst enemy.

It wasn’t until I went to a gynecologist and described what I was going through, I finally got an answer.

I had a couple exams, ultrasounds and blood work done, some bearable than others, to figure out my mess of a uterus. About two weeks later when I met with my doctor again, she said all the symptoms and tests correlate with PCOS.

My heart dropped and my mind went racing.

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Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, or PCOS, is a genetic hormone imbalance disorder caused by cysts that are formed on the ovaries. Common symptoms are: excessive facial and body hair, severe acne, irregular menstrual cycles, weight gain and infertility, its leading factor.

PCOS affects about 1 in 10 women worldwide starting as early as 14 years old. PCOS is not a disease that can be easily diagnosed and doesn’t discriminate; women will go through their whole life not knowing they have PCOS. Women with PCOS have ovaries 1.5-3 times larger than normal ovaries. Women with PCOS are more apt to experience diabetes and heart-related diseases as well as heart attacks. And to top it all off, there is no cure for PCOS.

The entire day after that appointment, I cried, I screamed, I kept blaming myself thinking there was something I could stop this from happening.

I couldn’t prevent my PCOS.

So for the rest of the day, I read other women’s stories. I learned how they cope, how they live with PCOS, medications they take and most importantly, their process of having children.

Surprisingly, that’s the part that got me the most. When my doctor told me I have PCOS, she said that if I tried to have a baby now, I wouldn’t get pregnant.

At this moment in time, I’m infertile… Thinking about it doesn’t get any easier.

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Let me just say this, women who have PCOS can and do get pregnant, sometimes without any fertility treatment. I’m one of those cases where I need to do everything I can to make sure I am in the best physical shape in order to bare a child.

What’s the next step from here?

Well, I took all of my frustration and fear and decided to do something. I can’t have this disorder take control over me or make me believe that I’m not capable of having children myself. To make this happen, I have to change my lifestyle.

There are plenty of women who get pregnant successfully and have no complications during pregnancy or childbirth who are my size. I thought I’d be one of those women myself (because screw societal expectations on what body type is most “suitable” to grow babies, AMIRIGHT?!?!) Unfortunately, my body physically can’t do what I always thought it was capable of doing.

I know that being a mom is someone I want to be. Losing weight is the only way I can better my body, not only for my overall health in order to live with PCOS, but in order to carry a child. The more weight I lose, the greater chance I’ll have to become less infertile.

In the dead of night, I signed up for Weight-Watchers and I haven’t looked back since June when I registered. At first it was hard because all the things I was eating were too many points which made me realize how many calories I was actually putting into my body. I had to compromise significantly. After a few weeks it became much easier incorporating fruits and veggies while also eating food I love in moderation. I’ve lost 30 pounds just by watching my diet. I haven’t conquered my fear of going back to the gym yet, but we’re still working on it.

I started on birth control in June and have seen significant differences in my acne, hair growth and cycles; I’ve never been more thankful to be on medication. If it wasn’t for getting on birth control, I would still be in a lot of effing pain, losing more blood from my body than a healthy amount during a period and I wouldn’t have my PCOS under control if it wasn’t for the pills giving me the hormones my body can’t naturally make. Now, if I could just convince the government the positive health benefits from birth control… Sorry, side thought.

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We need to talk about women’s health way more than we do now. With our current administration threatening safe abortions, access and coverage of birth control, not knowing the basics of childbirth, not knowing how periods work and lack of proper sex education in America, it’s so important we lead the discussion. Women have PCOS, endometriosis, other disorders that prevent them from getting pregnant. We have to talk and not be uncomfortable doing so. Our dialogue has to change and not feel like we’re alone going through all this BS that happens. Maybe I shared too much, but it’s the only way to start the conversation. It’s a step to start some serious change in our views on women’s health.

I have PCOS. I’ve blamed myself almost every single day thinking there was something I could have done to stop this. I think maybe there was a way I could have known sooner when I was younger. Maybe if I took my health more seriously or noticed different patterns in my mood, or took those photos more seriously. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

But then I remember that there’s nothing I could have done to stop this. I’m healthy, I’m taking all the right steps to improve my health and well-being for the future. And that’s all I can do.

I am a work in progress

I am a work in progress

It’s been over a year since I graduated college, moved back home, went unemployeed for over half that time, borrowed too much money from my parents, moved to a new city, started a new job, and began this thing called, “adulting.”

It’s been over a year I told myself I would give myself a break from theatre (participating, not seeing), to give myself a chance to understand who I am outside the performing arts.

It’s been a year ago since I really felt like myself.

Maybe it’s my crippling anxiety and depression but let me tell you, nothing prepares you for life outside the bubble that’s college. In college, you’re surrounded by the same people, places, entertainment and expectations. Now, in adulthood, effort to keep friendships is even harder, saving money becomes near impossible and fulfilling life-long aspirations become more of a dream than a promising reality.

Maybe it’s just my journey where I feel this way but seriously, like “Dear Evan Hansen” puts it:

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To put it as eliquently as I can… Adulting is hard, and I’ve learned it can be really lonely.

For one, I’m a social butterfly. Think of it like Tinkerbell: I don’t need attention, I need people in order to live. I enjoy my alone time and doing things by myself but it’s not the same as actively feeling lonely.

I live for the personal connections we make in this world. We’re nothing without the people we hold close to us: family, friends, mentors, coaches, teachers, directors, you name it. Those are the people who make us who we are today. Even that, I haven’t been able to see all those people who mean the most to me as often as I’d like.

But for over a year, I’ve put a lot of what I’ve wanted on the backburner. Any dreams I once had have gone out the window. Any expectations I had for myself and my future have disappeared. I don’t look forward to really much anymore, except when I see a show or the chance I do get to see my friends.

In the beginning of the year, I left my home in Ithaca, in the comfort of my best friends and my family, to move three hours away into the unknown to take this chance. A chance to start over, become someone instead of something.

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It’s been almost seven months and the most exciting thing I’ve done is see almost a dozen shows. I’ve seen my friends in Buffalo, but since I work weekends, it’s a rare adventure now. I’ve seen my friends in Ithaca, but we haven’t all been together since March before I started working. I’ve crossed shows off my list, but I haven’t been a part of the theatrical process since Playground last summer. I have a job that pays decent for what it’s worth, but I’m in a never-ending loop of getting up, going to work and then coming home to sleep.

There’s no excitement. There’s no fire, spark. I don’t really have that purpose in me anymore. I’m lonely, I’m lost, I’m struggling and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

Maybe I haven’t been the best of friend, maybe I haven’t reached out like I usually do, maybe I’ve kept all of these feelings to myself because to me, I just feel like I don’t know how to handle this whole adulthood idea when everyone around me does. I feel like I’m behind everyone who’s much more successful than I am at this point in life.

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I’ve become what I’ve feared the most; a failure. I’m only 24, I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way, but here I am.

Now, I’ve always been behind everyone else my entire life. Newest trend? I got into it after it was a thing. Supposed to be reading at a fifth grade level? Whoops, I’m reading at a first grade level. Discovered a new hit song? Well, it’s been number one for over four weeks now. Should be getting a job related to my field of choice like my friends are? Nope, I’m no where near that.

No matter how hard I try, I am always four steps behind everyone else. I’ve always have, and I’ve grown accustomed to maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.

If you’ve kept reading thus far (thank you!), I promise, I’m not here for pity or anything like that. I’ve been feeling like this for quite some time and since speaking from the heart can be the trickest to articulate, I’ve found comfort coming back to my writing. Finding that one security of putting my feelings and thoughts out there that maybe, just maybe, someone else is in the same boat as me. That I can stop feeling like I’m alone in this huge world.

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I’m trying to find that passion within me again, but it’s only getting me so far when I’m stuck living the same reality each day. Maybe I’m not looking in the right places, maybe I haven’t really started over like I’ve planned since this whole year began.

I’m an ambitious person, when I have my mind set to something, there’s no changing it. I find that to be one of my best qualities. But when you don’t have anything set as a goal, where do you go? How do you start?

Something has to change. My job? Maybe. My aspirations? Probably. Where I am? I don’t know.

Maybe this is what rock bottom feels like. Well, if I’m at this so-called bottom, I can only go up from here. That’s the first goal, going up!

Hey, look! We’re already making progress.

Adulting… It’s not a trap

Adulting… It’s not a trap

Here’s what I’ve learned thus far:

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Adulting is trying to navigate the partly sunny dirt path that never seems to ends.

Being an adult is making huge decisions that will ultimately benefit you ten years down the road more so than the immediate present.

Adulting is trying to figure out what classifies as good health insurance. And for that matter, trying to save money while drowning in student loan debt where the total number you owe, visibly, never seems to change.

It’s also about making memories, taking wild adventures and “see[ing] the world” while having to (presumably) support yourself almost 100% for the first time in your life.

*Cue scream*

I can’t be the only one who is terribly scared of adulting, right?


When I graduated in May, I had this idea of what was going to happen: I would work one last summer at Chautauqua Institution, come back to Ithaca, find a job and save as much as I could just to pay my student loans. Sounds reasonable, right?

But as everyone knows, life doesn’t always work out the way we have it in our heads or what we want to perceive.

I came back in August and applied to some jobs in Ithaca, nothing. I continued to look online for various jobs in and outside the Ithaca area, nothing. My bare savings was running out, my student loan payments were going to begin in December and I had no job to my name.

Something needed to change.

All my college friends were in Buffalo, finding their own personal success in each of their endeavors and I thought, hey, I can do that. I should be doing that. Why aren’t I doing that? Finding success.

So, I did something.

I found myself in Buffalo by the start of the New Year.


It’s been absolutely insane. I threw away over 7 garbage bags full of trash, clothes to donate, things I had no use for in bags to donate and I headed 121 miles west to Buffalo. I have just enough room in my apartment just outside the city, with access to all shops and stores which are only a two minute drive down the road in all directions. If I want to go to the mall (read: LUSH), it’s at most 15 minutes, depending on traffic.

In Ithaca, I would have to drive, at most, 15 minutes to get to the grocery store and over half an hour to get to the gym or post office. If I wanted to go to a larger mall, it would take me almost two hours to head north towards Syracuse. Living closer to things and places is a whole new world.

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Now, my main reason for moving to Buffalo was not because my college friends are here or that there are more jobs to apply to, although those were major perks. I was becoming too comfortable in Ithaca.

So many people stay in Ithaca forever, in this bubble of our liberal college-town, with the same annual events, with the same beautiful gorges, with the same people you pass by on your everyday outings. Staying in one place is definitely not a bad thing, but I’ve realized that I can’t live in a place that is always… the same.

Ithaca is a beautiful place to visit and definitely to live in. And I do I have my friends, family and my favorite things to come back to. Trust me, I miss all of my favorite people and places, a lot… Oh, lets be honest, I miss my dog, Jack, the most.

But I don’t want to live in the same.

I’m 24 years old with so much ahead of me. I’ve realized that if I want to better my life, I need to start making the choices in order to do that. I can’t sit in what’s comfortable waiting for the opportunities to magically appear before my eyes. If I want something, I need to get it myself. I can’t live in comfort because it’s safe.

I don’t want to live in what’s safe or comfortable. It’s not a life worth living, being comfortable and never embracing life changes or taking the opportunities that come our way.


If I succeed, I succeed. If I fail, I fail. But at least I tried. I can say I did it. I can say to my future children, “I did this. I found success and I failed and I learned from it all.”

We don’t succeed when we stay safe. We succeed when we do something risky. When we push our own boundaries to the edge to see how far we can actually go is when success presents itself.

The twenty-fourth book of my life is underway, and we’re almost through the second chapter. Right now, nothing can stop me and there’s no challenge that will defeat me.

Book review: January 2018

Book review: January 2018

I plan on reading 20 books within 2018. So, to keep myself on track, I decided to make posts about the books I read during each month. 20 books broken down into 12 months is about two books per month. I’ve found myself sucked into so much technology (i.e Netflix), I want to replace that with books.

Over the years, my appreciation of books and reading has expanded tremendously; I thank my college best friends for that. They brought me to this bookstore down the street from campus on one cold Saturday during the spring semester. Before I knew it, I started grabbing multiple books at a time off the shelves. There wasn’t enough room on the counter for all the books I was getting. Now, I visit every chance I get.

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To start us off, I read “Between You and Me” by NYT Bestselling Author, Allison Winn Scotch, published on Jan. 9, 2018. Coming in at 349 pages we follow partners Tatum and Ben on their journey of meeting, falling in love, getting married, having a child and leading success in both of their lives. On it’s own, by what I described, sounds like an ordinary love story, right?

The difference in this story is that we follow Ben recalling their relationship at the end and moving backwards to their first time meeting. Tatum, on the other hand, starts at the very beginning while working our way to the present. If you’re a familiar with musical theatre, it has the same structure as JRB’s, “The Last Five Years.”

When I first read synopses of “Between You and Me,” I thought it was going to be a small copy-cat of this beloved musical. I was very, very wrong.

Every twist and turn is unexpected, the imperfections are more prevalent. There are so many beautiful and tragic moments of doubt, sacrifice, heartache and happiness. The power of love and priorities makes you think; was it only one person in the wrong? When traveling through this journey of Tatum and Ben’s relationship, you don’t necessarily gather all the information in one person’s point of view, which makes you want to keep reading. Sometimes, there were word jumbles but each chapter got you turning the page. There wasn’t a moment I was invested in; 4/5 stars.

Nine days later, I finish my first book. I travel to my college town 45 minutes away to 21 E Main Bookstore in Dunkirk, NY, the bookstore I mentioned before. I thought I would peep in to browse the shelves, see if I could find anything intriguing. Low and behold, there was a book sale happening and, well, I bought another twenty books to my never ending pile on my bookshelf.


But here is where I find my second book, one I’ve wanted to read and dive into since watching this year’s Golden Globe awards. Book number two is “Big Little Lies” by author Liane Moriarty published in July 2014. My copy of the novel comes in at just under 500 pages.Image result for Big Little Lies novel

As I wrapped up January, I haven’t finished “Big Little Lies,” I am roughly an eighth of the way through the book, but this novel will be added to my January and February book log; I will add a more thorough description of it at the end of the month for February’s review.

Here is what I do know:

“Big Little Lies” follows three women, Madeline, Celeste and Jane, who all meet in this town from all walks of life prior to a mysterious murder in town.

Like I said, I haven’t even made a dent into the novel to give more information on the book.

What I can say is that it’s a little difficult to get into; the first chapter takes place in the present and then six months later before the infamous night of the murder is where the second chapter begin.

The novel, written in third person, can be hard to keep track of who’s who when all the main characters are female and all use the pronouns she. It’s a book that needs to be warmed up to, you can’t rush into the novel with this idea that it’s going to be a simple read.

It’s a complex story so, therefore; reading it will be complex. I haven’t read any summaries online, I have not seen the HBO limited series and I am still very new to this journey so anything I’ve said it what I know thus far. And I am excited to keep reading.

New Year, 2018, Reading, Woman, Learning, SittingAnd for my next novel in February after “Big Little Lies”? I’m not too sure which novel I’m going to pick up next as February settles in. I have a couple book series I got when I was at 21 E Main; my entire bookshelf is filled from top to bottom, side to side, with books so the possibilities are endless.

Casting in the high school theatre

Casting in the high school theatre

High school musical. No, I don’t mean the hit tween Disney Channel Original Movie, I am talking about being in a musical during your high school years.

The last couple weeks I have seen multiple articles about whitewashing happening in the high school theater department I spent my younger years participating in. I’ve heard views on both sides, seen what posts on Facebook has produced. Some have been against what the students have said, commenting that their is no issue of racism present in casting.

The issue that is being talked about is, the role of Esmeralda, who is culturally known as a woman of color, was cast to a white female. Above you can read two different viewpoints of the issue at hand incorporating students, faculty and administration’s testimonies. This is not the female who was cast’s fault, this issue is not her fault. It’s the system.

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As an alumna to such theater program, I find myself with opinions that I want to voice. I am white, yes, however: being part of a minority, being plus-sized, I understand where this issue roots from. I’ll break the issue at hand as we continue this discussion. Let me reiterateI do not have the same experiences as those who face race problems, as I am white. But being judged and looked over for who you are holds similar feeling.

I’ve seen a black man portray Tevye in “Fiddler on the Roof,” who is always portrayed as a white man. I have seen a black man portray Frank Abagnale Jr. in “Catch me if you Can,” who is, in real life, a white man. I have seen a black man portray the Pirate King in “The Pirates of Penzance,” who historically, is usually portrayed as a white man, as the term “king” is often associated with someone being white. Hell, the title character of the now 30 year long run of “The Phantom of the Opera” has been portrayed by a black man on Broadway and touring companies.

I’ve seen black women portray white characters in youth theatre: “Annie,” “Catch me if You Can,” “The Wizard of Oz.” One of the articles I read, if I recall correctly, mentions composer and actor Lin-Manuel Miranda discussing how kids participating in high school theatre should play the characters they want to play now before they hit the real world and are placed into a “type.” Playing the type of characters kids have always wanted to play and portray should be encouraged. Miranda encourages that for his musical, “In the Heights,” if high schools choose to pursue that.

Even though one composer and creator gave a blessing of casting whomever in his show in a high school setting doesn’t mean that is a blessing to all musicals or characters who are traditionally a person of color or different ethnicity.

Putting white people in specific roles made for black people proves the point that we don’t take black people, any person of color, or ethnicity, as seriously as we need to be.

My freshmen year musical was “Aida,” with the title role portrayed by a black woman. Would people understand the concept of racism and privilege if Aida was a white woman falling in love with a white man? Or would we be seeing just another love story?

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My junior year musical was “The Wiz,” with half of the prominent principal roles, including Dorothy, being black performers. The only people called back for Dorothy were black women. Would we call a production of “The Wiz,” “The Wiz” if a white woman portrayed Dorothy, or would we call it, “The Wizard of Oz?”

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We wouldn’t cast an all-white production of: “The Color Purple,” “Fences,” “Hamilton,” “The Piano Lesson,” “Miss Saigon,” “The King and I,” or “Once on this Island,” would we? It wouldn’t be the same story if we did.

There is work made for people of color and different ethnicities for a reason, because 75% of theatrical material, straight play or musical theatre, is made for white people.

Those who caught the 75th Annual Golden Globe Awards might remember Sterling K. Brown earning, as the first black man ever, to win the Golden Globe for Best Performance in a Television Series – Drama. He then said revolutionary words in a revolutionary moment:

Dan Fogelman, throughout the majority of my career, I have benefited from colorblind casting, which means, ‘you know what, hey, let’s throw a brother in this role. Right? It’s always really cool.’ But Dan Fogelman, you wrote a role for a black man that could only be played by a black man. What I appreciate so much about this is that I’m being seen for who I am and being appreciated for who I am. And it makes it that much more difficult to dismiss me, or dismiss anybody who looks like me.

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Dismissing black people, any person of color, or different ethnicity is harming. We feed into the notion that white people are on the top while everyone else is underneath. Roles made for people who are not white, whichever ethnicity or race the role calls for, should only be played by those people who are not white.

It’s not “casting the person who’s best for the role,” it’s casting the person who has the best talent. And I learned through my collegiate years that it’s not about who is the best, it’s about who’s right. Someone might not have a strong voice but they bring something to the role that a director wants and that person is going to get cast rather than the person who has a better voice or dance skills. That is revolutionary. Giving a chance on someone who might not otherwise get one is what makes live theatre thrilling.

And I get casting a show take a lot of time. I have sat ten hours straight one time as a stage manger watching audition after audition to then spending almost three out of those ten hours figuring out, with two directors and my one ASM at that moment, who would be called back. Then add another day of callbacks and preliminary casting, so maybe 16-18 hours total. But within those various hours, I don’t think it was hard to realize that we shouldn’t cast a role made for a person of color to someone who is not a person of color.

The woman who directed each show I was in was a white director but she never dismissed the importance of having people of color, various ethnicities portray characters meant for people who aren’t white. The casts of the productions I was cast in were based on who was right for the various roles.

When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.

People have stepped down from shows because casting has been unfair.

People haven’t auditioned for shows because they’re only seen as a stereotype based on their race and skin color.

People have called out the problem to challenge the status quo and dismissed.

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We can’t change the status quo if we don’t say something is wrong. When we are so used to something being a certain way, we’re scared of change. We sometimes don’t see or acknowledge the problem because it doesn’t affect us directly. That is a notion of privilege.

It’s been 10 years since my first show ever, a show that was produced by Ithaca City School District. If we want to change, we need to listen and not pass over the emotions, experiences and comments the students have. This is not going to change over night; we all know that and can agree upon that. But it’s going on for far to long to let it continue happening.

But what these students are doing, speaking up when so many have told them not to, will make sure that ten years from now, this doesn’t happen to another student who wants to audition for a role made for them. They won’t have to fear they won’t get the role made for them because of their skin color or ethnicity.

We can do better than this. We need to do better than this.

Eight days into 2018

Eight days into 2018

The first few days of 2018 have been absolutely insane. I turned 24, I officially moved to a new city, I saved a man from a fire, I’ve got those “new year goals” underway and I’ve witnessed the environment reach negative 20 degrees Fahrenheit. I know, Happy New Year to me!

To be quite honest, it hasn’t been all that bad. Actually, it’s been really great. I’ll give you a quick synopsis of each point above.

Turning 24


Yeah. 24. I’ve been living on this Earth for over 24 years. I’ve seen and done a lot over these past few years alone and I’m just starting to see where my light is heading. I’m started to fully grasp the direction I should be heading in. It doesn’t mean I understand where exactly this light is heading or why I’m going this way but I feel moving in forward. 2017 made me have so many “Ah-ha” moments, I’ve had some of my largest revelations. After having those moments, I’ve looked at life in a complete different focus and point of view. “Her dreams went out the door when she turned 24,” from the hit song “1985” by Bowling for Soup is quickly proving to be quite accurate. Because the dreams I had at 23 are certainly not the dreams I have going into my 24th year. And I hope those dreams keep changing and happening.

Moving to a new city


I’M IN BUFFALO! On Dec. 30, I packed up almost all my things from my parent’s house in Ithaca, NY, and traveled 121 miles West to Buffalo: “An All America City.” And yes, that is the sign that welcomes those on the New York State Thruway into the city. All my things are slowly and surely settling into place in my apartment. It’s spacious, tons of storage, great water pressure, (literally) seconds away from everything in town and an array of stores that can’t be found in Ithaca. I’ve been living here for almost a week and the things I miss the most are (in this order:) my dog, my family and friends, the local restaurants and Ithaca’s natural beauty. I started the job hunt and I am optimistic that the city will lead me to a job and money in the bank!

Saving a man from a fire


Yes, I did help save a man in a fire. And yes, Wonder Woman captures how I feel looking back on that moment. During the second night of 2018 my mom and I were playing cards at our dining room table when I was about to stare aimlessly outside the window, at what I thought would be my reflection, turned out to be a fire starting on my neighbor’s porch. I yelled out, “FIRE!”, to my mom, running towards the phone to dial 9-1-1. A trembling in my chest lingered as I waited until an operator answered, my mom rushing out to her car to drive across the street (our house sits back ways from the road) to save anyone who was in the house. I ran up to the top of our driveway and just watched. The smell of debris flew through the air, the clouds of smoke filled the sky, and the illuminating light of yellow and orange colors pierced though me. A man is going to see 2018 because my mom and I saved him. An honor of a lifetime.

New Year, new goals


I’m not one for the whole, “New Year, new me” mentality. In actuality, the “new” entails new beginnings, new adventures, new experiences. We should be continuing to change and grow as humans. That’s an inevitable part of life, change, but the change we endure shouldn’t make us into necessarily “new” people. We’re just discovering who we’re meant to be in every moment of our lives. I’m also not prone to keeping goals; I’m ambitious and capable of a lot of things and unfortunately, keeping goals is one I’m just not capable of (yet.) So that’s why, in 2018, I am going to be keeping some goals. I don’t find them out of reach or one’s I won’t be able to keep throughout the next 357 days remaining in 2018.

  • Use a planner every day/week
  • Plan a trip for 2018 and 2019
  • Save $5,500
  • Read at least 20 books
  • Experience more theatre
  • See my student loans under $30,000 (or as close to that as possible)
  • Live a healthier lifestyle
  • Blog more (I bought a domain, I should use it more.)
  • Take a photography class (and pursue photography more in general)
  • Live life with more fulfillment

Negative 20 degree Fahrenheit


Shit was cold. It was crazy insane. Yeah, that’s all I got on the weather. Buffalo weather is really cold and changes almost as much as the weather changes in Ithaca.

So with 2018 settling in on all of us, I hope to find this year with lots of successes, failures, lessons, goals, changes and experiences. From the classic musical written by the late Jonathan Larson, “Rent:” “It’s gonna be a happy New Year.”