Q: What first drew you to performing — was there a moment in childhood when you knew this was what you wanted to do?

Growing up in New York, I had direct access to an incredible variety of art forms. I was especially drawn to musical theater—I started singing from a young age, and definitely had a flair for the dramatic. Everything changed when my parents took me to my first Broadway musical. I was hooked. I vividly remember seeing AIDA, with Heather Headley, Adam Pascal, and Sherie Rene Scott. That experience lit a fire in me. It was one of those formative moments when I knew—I wanted to be an artist. 

Q: How did your time studying English and Music at Harvard shape your voice as a performer and writer?

Studying English, I gravitated toward Literature by Black authors. I remember reading Cane by Jean Toomer and feeling like a piece of my soul had been unlocked. That focus deeply shaped how I see the world and the kinds of stories that move me. It gave me language for experiences I had lived but hadn’t fully understood, and helped me identify the kind of work that fulfills me both artistically and personally. At the same time, my musical studies grounded me in both theory and performance, and pushed me to think critically about sound and expression. Together, my English and music studies at Harvard helped me find storytelling that is emotionally rich, culturally resonant, and rooted in intellect and soul. 

Q: What was it like joining the tour company of BEAUTIFUL, and how did the experience of performing on the road shape your craft? How is a tour different from a performance experience in one theater?

I actually never made it on the road with BEAUTIFUL—I rehearsed for a couple weeks in New York and then the world shut down due to COVID the day before I was set to fly out and meet the cast. It was incredibly humbling. Everything I had worked so hard for was suddenly paused, indefinitely. As a freelancer, you know instability comes with the territory, but nothing truly prepares you for that kind of disappointment. That moment forced me to confront why I chose this path in the first place. But in that stillness and reflection, I reconnected with the parts of this work that have nothing to do with external validation—the craft, the community, and the joy of storytelling. It reminded me that this journey isn’t linear, and while setbacks can be painful, they also stretch you in ways you never imagined. 

Q: You’ve played several iconic roles like Aida in AIDA and Sarah Brown in GUYS AND DOLLS. How do you make classic characters like those feel fresh, modern, and authentic to you?

For me, one of the core challenges—and joys—of acting is bringing your whole self to every role. It’s easier when you relate closely to a character, but even when I don’t, I believe the human experience is fundamentally shared. We all feel pain. We all seek joy, connection, and purpose. So when I approach a character who feels distant or from another era, I start by identifying their most basic desires and motivations. Then I connect those to my own as a woman in 2025. That’s where the character becomes personal, honest, and real for me. 

Q: What was your favorite part about performing in & JULIET on Broadway? Any standout memories from your time with that company?

& JULIET was my Broadway debut, so the entire experience was incredibly meaningful — but my debut performance as Juliet is hands down my favorite memory. I had been brought in as a temporary replacement, hired to play Lady Capulet every night and to understudy Juliet. I began learning both tracks in a rehearsal room with just the associate director (Harvard alum Susanna Wolk AB '14), the associate music director (Harvard alum Haley Bennett AB '13), and the associate choreographer. After two weeks of rehearsal, on an evening off, I was heading to see the Broadway revival of SWEENEY TODD when I got a call from the stage manager. In the calmest voice, he asked, “Do you feel up to making your Broadway debut as Juliet tonight? Both of our Juliets are out sick.” For a second, I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. I said yes. I jumped on the train, texted my best friend, my family, and my partner, and sprinted to the theater. We held the show for 45 minutes so I could be fitted into costumes for the first time, run a few of the big production numbers with the full cast (also for the first time), and meet my scene partners—yes, for the first time. I think I blacked out for most of it, but I remember the overwhelming sense of joy and pride I felt knowing that I had helped make sure the show went on. It was terrifying and electrifying and completely unforgettable—a true trial by fire, and the most thrilling welcome to Broadway I could’ve imagined.

Q: You mentioned outside of performing, you like writing. What types of stories are you most passionate about as a storyteller? Do you see your writing intersecting with your performance work in the future?

I’ve always seen writing and performance as deeply connected forms of expression. Writing, for me, is both a creative outlet and a form of therapy. I tend to write from personal experience—not just to document it, but to be in conversation with it. It’s a way of working through my emotions, questions, traumas that I may not otherwise be able to fully unpack. That reflective process often leads me to stories that are emotionally honest, and resonant. Therefore I’m really interested in creating work, whether for theater, film, or hybrid forms, that’s rooted in lived experience. And yes, I definitely see my writing intersecting with my performance in the future. In fact, my friends and I always joke that the dream is to write something and star in it together—and honestly, that dream feels more and more real as I continue creating. I’m excited by the idea of developing original work and being the one to also bring it to life on stage or screen.

Q: What have you learned about resilience from being in such a competitive and unpredictable industry?

I’ve learned a lot about resilience through this industry—mostly that it’s not just about pushing through, but about learning how to hold yourself with care in the face of uncertainty. One of the hardest lessons came early on, when my first national tour was canceled due to COVID just before I was set to join. It was devastating, not just because of the lost opportunity, but because it felt like something I had worked hard for had just been lost. Since then, I’ve faced countless rejections, moments of deep self-doubt, and times when I felt completely powerless. But through it all, I’ve started to learn how to center myself. I’ve learned to create the structure I need—to build routines, boundaries, and creative practices that keep me grounded. I’ve also learned to create the opportunities I want to see in my career instead of waiting for someone to hand them to me. One of the biggest lessons I’m still working on is letting go of the need for external validation. It’s so easy to measure your worth by other people’s “yes” or “no,” but I’ve found strength in the moments when I remind myself that I am enough, regardless of the outcome. 

Q: What’s a role or project you’re dreaming of tackling next, whether on stage, screen, or in your writing?

I’ve been working on a short film that’s really close to my heart. It’s a coming-of-age story about a young Black girl navigating her relationships and identity within a predominantly white elementary school. It explores themes of belonging, code-switching, and the quiet, formative moments that shape how we see ourselves. It’s a deeply personal piece, which has made it both challenging and a little scary to share—but I’m reaching a place where I’m ready to let it live beyond the page. My goal over the next year is to continue developing it and move toward actually filming it. It’s my way of reclaiming narrative space and telling the kind of story I wish I had seen growing up. On the performance side, I’m really drawn to new, developmental work. I’m at a point in my career where the idea of originating a role—helping shape a character from the ground up—feels especially meaningful. There’s something so collaborative about being part of a project in its early stages, and I find it creatively fulfilling to help bring new voices and stories into the world. Whether it’s a new play, musical, or TV/film project, I’m eager to be part of work that feels fresh, urgent, and reflective of the world we live in today. 

Q: How has your identity and background influenced the types of roles you pursue or stories you want to be part of?

My identity as a black woman deeply shapes the kinds of roles I pursue and the stories I want to help tell. Growing up, I rarely saw myself fully reflected in stories on screen or on stage—especially in ways that captured the nuance, softness, or complexity of black girlhood and womanhood. That absence made me crave characters and narratives that center us not just in struggle but in joy, vulnerability, curiosity, and growth. Because of that, I’m drawn to roles that reflect real emotional lives—stories that feel grounded in truth rather than dated stereotypes. I want to be part of work that invites people into a deeper understanding of lived experiences that might not be their own, and that affirms those who do see themselves reflected. One of my favorite Broadway shows this year was PURPOSE by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins because it did exactly that. It felt like watching a piece of myself and my community on stage, which was really special. 

Q: What’s a piece of advice a mentor gave you when you first started in the industry that has stayed with you?

One piece of advice a mentor gave me early on that has really stayed with me is: “What is for you, is for you. And what is for someone else, is for someone else.” It sounds simple, almost obvious—but in an industry that’s so full of comparison, rejection, and uncertainty, it’s been a lifeline. It’s helped me stay grounded through every “no,” every close call, and every moment of doubt. It reminds me that missing out on one opportunity doesn’t take away from what’s meant for me down the line. That mindset has truly allowed me to celebrate others’ successes more readily, move through rejection with grace, and keep showing up with a sense of purpose rather than pressure!