I write plays about big feelings in small worlds, about people who are done shrinking to fit into places they’ve outgrown, about women remembering they exist and learning how to belong to themselves.
As a queer, female playwright with a disability, I’m interested in writing complex, intersectional characters who aren’t solely defined by their gender, sexuality, or dis/ability. Instead, I aim to craft feminist, character-driven windows into these identities and the ways we grieve and grow inside them.
I write about heavy stuff through humor and spectacle. My plays experiment with time and memory, juxtaposing fantasy with grounded reality to turn people inside out and illuminate invisible truths. We can unpack male fragility on a spaceship. Capitalism can feel like trying to win someone else’s clothes in a dollar store bikini. Grief can taste like eating shredded cheese for dinner on the kitchen floor.
My work resists the urge to dismiss anyone as a monster, instead holding everyone accountable to their humanity and examining the ways we fail to honor it. This also creates space to explore how violence and trauma are internalized instead of simply recreating them onstage in ways that might alienate audiences or actors who have lived experience with it.
Before starting my MFA playwriting program at Boston University, I worked with a variety of Chicago nonprofits that serve people who have experienced complex trauma and sexual violence. Both my lived experience and my work within these communities has shown me how important it is to create nuanced, trauma-informed work - instead of settling for the canon of plays that offer unmotivated brutality just to seem gritty.
So that’s what I try to do.
Embrace bold theatricality to dig deep and find the hidden light in dark topics.
Create characters who can see how broken the world is and still fight like hell to make it better.
Write to reflect a world where radical empathy is an act of rebellion against hopelessness.