Finding My Artistic Voice

As artists, we’re often told that our voices are unique—that each of us has a "special sauce" that no one else possesses. But what people don’t often see are the challenges we face in actually finding that voice. For me, it was a struggle to dictate the kind of art I wanted to make. So much of my early experiences as an artist felt decided for me, like I was always stepping into roles that were already defined. This left me asking myself, "What do I want my artistic voice to be?" I don't literally mean just my voice. I'm talking about the aura or the impression I leave on a room.

My journey began at the Orange County School of the Arts, where I first learned the value of artistic discipline and community. Serving as a State Thespian Officer for California gave me a platform to advocate for my peers and the arts community, but I hadn’t yet tapped into what made *me* unique as an artist. During those years, I was “playing the imitation game”—learning to mimic others’ artistic styles rather than carving out my own. While those experiences were valuable, they often boxed me in, making me feel like my voice was shaped by external expectations rather than my own artistic instincts.

Finding my true voice involved shedding those limitations and exploring the kind of art that spoke to me personally. And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t scary. It’s easy, even as an artist, to feel safe in a box, to stick to what’s comfortable and familiar. But to truly express myself, I had to go beyond those boundaries—to break through both the limits I had placed on myself and those that society had subtly reinforced. I had to redefine what I believed was possible.

Graduating from the Chadwick A. Boseman College of Fine Arts at Howard University marked a turning point in this journey. My time at Howard helped me refine my knowledge in the power my heritage, my culture, and my story hold. These weren’t just inspirations; they were my foundation. Embracing them gave my voice depth, grounding, and purpose. No longer was I creating art to fit into a mold or meet someone else’s criteria—I was creating to uplift, to empower, and to advocate for a generation of young artists. Even with this foundation, the question still remained, 'What do I want to say?' The answer still in progress, but for now I want to five space for all people to not just live on stage but to thrive in every aspect of their identity.

This journey of self-discovery and advocacy has taught me that finding one’s voice is a lifelong process of refinement, one that involves continually pushing against both internal and external boundaries. After years of “playing the imitation game,” I've learned that to share my voice I have to know my point of view. I have to know me. My journey isn’t over, and my voice will continue to evolve. But I’m no longer afraid to break through, to explore, and to embrace the uniqueness that makes me who I am.