I was raised in Raleigh, North Carolina, where I began my pursuit of performance at the age of four. Growing up in a family of Jewish artists in a town that fundamentally rejected many facets of my identity, I struggled to feel a sense of belonging and quickly learned what it meant to be "othered." My safe houses became dance class, voice lessons, The North Carolina Theatre and the back of my mother's Toyota Avalon on our way to Wilmington for another audition or another day on set. And while my heritage and these creative inclinations were seen by my peers as strange, my big feelings and expressive nature were even stranger to them and their lack thereof equally perplexing to me. My family always encouraged me to lead with vulnerability, heart, and resilience, but the culture of this place bred people who walked through the world with armor. I recognized how great of a loss this was and saw that despite our differences, we all shared the ability to feel deeply. So I swore I'd never stop chasing the dream to create art that illuminates these places where we intersect.

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