The View From Here (26-02)
“Art is not a mirror held up to reality, but a hammer with which to shape it.” – Bertolt Brecht
The theater has always felt like home to me. Long before I understood the power of storytelling, I understood the magic of the stage – the hush of the audience, the warmth of the lights, and the quiet anticipation just before the story begins. It was there, as a young girl, that I first discovered my voice.
That early love led me to pursue a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Theatre, where I learned that performance is about far more than delivering lines. It is about presence. Connection. Humanity. For years, I believed the stage would always be a part of my life.
Then, in 2014, my life changed in an instant when I suffered a spinal cord injury, which forced me to reimagine the landscape of my life entirely. My focus shifted toward healing, adapting and eventually advocating for a more inclusive world for those of us living with disabilities.
Somewhere along the way, the performer in me grew quiet. Not gone…just waiting. The things that shape us rarely disappear. They wait.
Today, I am deeply honored to be returning to the stage in the cast of The Next Chapter: Sitting Pretty, a novel written by Rebekah Taussig and now being brought to theatrical life by Phillip Church, Founding Director of What if Works. A true, full-circle moment, as Phillip was my former theater professor and director when I was a young student and actor at Florida International University, back in the ‘90’s. This opportunity feels less like a return and more like a convergence – a place where the artist I have always been, meets the advocate I was called to become.
It will not be without challenges. I will perform the production from my wheelchair, navigating the physicality of the stage in new ways, and I will be rediscovering the mental rigor of memorizing lines – a skill that, like any muscle, requires patience to rebuild. But learning to face difficult challenges is not new to me…it is a strength I’ve developed in the years since my injury. I’ve learned that perspective has a way of transforming what once felt daunting into something purposeful.
For some time now, I have felt a quiet pull to more intentionally merge art with advocacy. This role is another step in doing just that. I truly feel that disability representation expands creativity. It brings depth, resilience, and a perspective that the world needs more of. Theater uniquely asks us not just to witness a story, but to feel it. And that is often the beginning of change.
Returning to the theater reminds me that our roots remain steady beneath the surface, even when life carries us far from where we first planted them. The things we love do not disappear. They wait…patient and unshaken…until we are ready to meet them again.
For me, coming back to this role of actor and storyteller feels different than it once did. I carry a history of strength now, that has taken years to develop. There is more gratitude, more clarity. Less concern for perfection and far more need for purpose. And that might be the greatest lesson of all…sometimes the path forward is not about reinventing ourselves, but about returning – stronger, wiser and more fully ourselves than we have ever been.
And this time, I don’t just get to be part of the story…I get to help change it.
