Student Blog: Changed For Good - A Disabled Student's Journey in Theater

Being an Autistic person working in theater can be difficult. It took me years to build enough courage to start building a career - and I don’t even work as a performer! I found my passion for theater while being a teen student exploring my interest in performing, but that passion shifted and has led me to working in other areas of theater while being a voice for other disabled creatives. Presently, I am working as a Community Engagement Fellow for Theatre Philadelphia with a focus on accessibility and a Social Media Manager for the Autistic Theatermakers Alliance. As I dive deeper into the world of arts education and accessibility in my work, I have been reflecting on how theater education helped me get to where I am today. Let me take you on a journey:

I discovered my love for theater at a time where I could hardly speak. An awkward, Autistic, timid 14-years-old girl with a hatred for attention and an art form that pushed me beneath spotlights seemed like a horrible combination. Nevertheless, on November 8th 2019 I walked into the Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts (now, Ensemble Arts Philly) with a strange courage and a commitment to one goal: sing in front of people. I had joined a free musical theater program formerly known as Showstoppers and my first class - to my dismay - had been an audition workshop.

I half-succeeded in accomplishing my goal. Because I chose the same song as four other students, we all went up together, sang it as a group, and then individually. Ironically, I chose “Don’t Rain on my Parade.” The shyest person in the room listened to Rachel Berry to prepare for her moment, not realizing that to be like Rachel Berry or Barbra Streisand required a confidence that I would not possess for many years to come. As an Autistic person, talking is not always easy for me, and singing was not much easier at the time. Both evoked a level of fear that was hard for me to face. When my time came to sing, I declined, but did agree to sing with the group, only for my voice to be barely a whisper. A slightly older student told me I did a great job. I knew that this was a half-truth in her mind, but it did make me feel welcomed. I would look back on that first day terrified, but strangely happy. I had felt an unusual sensation that I found a place where I belonged.

Maybe I did do great. I sure didn’t sing, not really, but I did take a step towards a more courageous version of myself. This was the gift theater gave to me everyday that I chose not to quit. A bit more courage that would eventually blossom into a confidence that feels heavy to carry, but brings me joy and opportunities. Eventually slight movements across rehearsal spaces turned into imperfect but fun full-fledged choreography on stages. Whispered lyrics became belts even as the volume of my own voice intimidated me. Because I’ve had teachers who worked hard, inspired me, and had faith in me - I was able to grow slowly but surely into someone who could put her dreams before her fears. 

However, my dream isn’t to be a performer. Even though my confidence has grown substantially, I now enjoy working mainly offstage uplifting other young and disabled creatives. In my new role as a Community Engagement Fellow for Theatre Philadelphia, I am working on incorporating accessibility information into the 2025 Philly Theatre Week guide and Theatre Philadelphia’s Instagram content. I have also been working with Philadelphia Young Playwrights as an Intern. There, I have been able to build my communication skills while helping them form partnerships that allow us to bring the power of playwriting to local community spaces. Sometimes, I put my performance skills to work as a Teaching Artist and enjoy introducing youth to the magic of theater first-hand. I may not like to perform much these days, but I love seeing my students reap the joys of performing and creating. 

With the many hats I wear, I keep myself busy. This can be overwhelming, but I am lucky enough to work with organizations that make me feel comfortable and allow me to work however is most efficient for me. My bosses and mentors have done well to make space for me as a disabled creative, continue building my confidence and courage, and give me opportunities to do important work for young and disabled creatives and audience members. 

Theater can be terrifying. I still have to fight my way through harder workdays with a racing heart. Nevertheless, I know there is space within the theater industry for Autistic people and other disabled creatives. Everyday I work for the 14-year-old walking into her first theater class and every young person like her. 

My experiences as an Autistic person in theater have made me passionate about accessibility and I have been blessed with opportunities to do work in arts access this semester. As a Community Engagement Fellow with Theatre Philadelphia, I have been working on incorporating accessibility information into the 2025 Philly Theatre Week guide. I am also in the process of making Instagram content spotlighting access services at local theaters. Content creation has also been an important part of my work As a Social Media Manager for the Autistic Theatermakers Alliance. In these roles, my goal is to affirm that there is space for Autistic people and other disabled people in the theater industry and, when possible, create space for other people like me in the theater world to shine. If I were not utilizing my voice for other people like me, then I would not be doing well with the opportunities I’ve been given.

Living a life where I allow myself to see what I am capable of is not easy, even now. However, if you can find courage even when your heart is racing and your hands are shaking, you can make steps towards your goals. Your goals have to be more important than your fear. This is not easy, but just remember: letting go of your fears of failure and embarrassment are essential to success. Each failure is a lesson and each embarrassing moment is a beautiful moment because it means you were bold enough to try something you could fail at. Go out into the world, fail and falter, and conquer your fears until your life starts looking like a dream.