Student Blog: The Next Scene

The beginning of a new year always feels symbolic in theatre. It is that moment after the blackout, when the stage is quiet, and anything feels possible. January invites reflection. It asks us to look honestly at where we are and imagine where we want to go next.

This year, that reflection came into focus for me while attending Region V of the American College Theatre Festival (ACTF), last week. Being surrounded by hundreds of theatre artists; actors, singers, technicians, directors, and storytellers, was inspiring and grounding. It reminded why I fell in love with theatre in the first place: not for awards or recognition, but for that connection.

During the festival, I competed in both the Irene Ryan Acting Competition as a scene partner, and the Musical Theatre Intensive (MTI) singing. I was incredibly grateful to final in MTI with the song “I Am What I Am” from La Cage Aux Folles. It was a moment I will carry with me for a long time, not just because of the outcome, but because of what that song represents to me right now. What really made me feel proud was being honored with the “Bravery in Artistry” award, it truly affirmed what I wanted to do: let the art speak when words fail.

At this point in my life, theatre is more than just an activity, it is how I understand myself.

Over the years, I have performed onstage, sung in so many rehearsals, directed, and collaborated with artists who have shaped me deeply. Each experience has taught me that theatre isn’t about being the loudest voice in the room, it’s about being the most honest one.

Singing “I Am What I Am” at ACTF felt so personal. In a time when not everyone feels safe enough to say those words out loud, the song stands as a declaration of identity, pride, and resilience. Performing it wasn’t just a vocal challenge, it was an act of truth.

Standing on that stage, I was only thinking about the message. About visibility. About how art can remind people that they are not alone. Finaling in MTI was an incredible honor, but what mattered most was realizing something important: my strongest work happens when I allowed my lived experience to inform my artistry.

As I step into 2026, my goals are less about achievement and more about intention. I want to approach my work with purpose, to understand not only what I’m doing onstage, but why. This year, I’m setting goals that challenge me to grow deeper rather than wider:

• To make bold choices rooted in story
• To trust my instincts while remaining open to collaboration
• To take creative risks even when they feel uncomfortable

Theatre is not meant to be safe. It is meant to be truthful.

My goals extend beyond the stage. I hope to one day teach English while also directing theatre, using storytelling as that bridge between literature, performance, and identity. In the year ahead, that means developing leadership skills and learning how to guide others with empathy. I want to help create rooms where people feel safe enough to be brave.

Like many theatre artists, I have dream roles and dream shows, but more than anything I dream of meaningful work. I want to be apart of projects that ask important questions. Stories that will challenge audiences ways of thinking. Theatre that reflects the world honestly and compassionately. If a production allows someone to feel seen, even for just a moment, then it matters.

If ACTF reminded me of anything, it’s that courage is at the center of good artistry. Courage is auditioning when self-doubt is loud. Courage is singing something that feels personal. Courage is trusting that vulnerability is not weakness. Courage is standing up to the injustice by using your voice in any way that you can. As I move through 2026, I’m committing to: progress, curiosity, and kindness toward myself.

Goal setting isn’t about predicting what the year may bring, it’s about deciding how you’ll meet it. After standing onstage singing “I Am What I Am,” I feel clearer than ever than the artist I want to become: honest, brave, compassionate, and unapologetically authentic. 

The lights are back up. The story is still unfolding.

And I’m ready for the next scene.