My work bends reality juuussstttt enough to expose its theatricality while staying rooted in real-world struggles. I disrupt linear storytelling, treating time as something fluid, looping, slipping, and overlapping between past and present (sometimes future). I’m drawn to ensemble-driven narratives, where collective voices push against institutions, find ways to survive, and reclaim what’s been taken. My work often centers on politically charged questions, especially through the lens of Blackness, activism, and the ways people navigate oppressive systems. Leading female characters, messy life transitions, and the liminal space/feeling before things get better show up again and again in my writing. 

I try not to hide from the awkward, the uncomfortable, or the unresolved, whether it’s workplace solidarity (How to Steal Time and Other Poor People Skills), community resistance (Angela Davis’s School For Girls With Big Eyes), or the dissonance of being in a body (Dirty).

My work is also very New York-coded, full of characters shaped by a city that both holds and pushes against them. I love exploring the magic in the mundane, how everyday objects, gestures, and moments can take on supernatural significance. I like writing as if magic can happen at any point. Spectacle is another tool I lean into, not just as a visual treat but as a metaphor, a way to externalize the chaos of growing pains, of adulthood feeling like something we’re all still figuring out. My plays don’t search for neat resolutions or inner healing; they wrestle with the tantrums of childhood coming back again and again, with the ways we lose friends, shift identities, and navigate the gaps left by a lack of guidance.

I want my work to feel like a space where actors shape the physical world of the set, where the audience can witness transformation, and where growing pains: Personal, political, and communal, are made tangible.