My Voice

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Picture it: Hoboken, New Jersey 1999. I sit on the floor of my living room as my parents consult with two speech professionals. I am three years old and to say I am a quiet toddler is an understatement. I act just like any other three year old, but with one difference: while other children fill their homes with senseless ramblings, I am silent and pensive. The professionals confirm that although I am not verbally communicating, I have the ability to speak I just prefer to observe.

Fast forward to Christmas morning 2000. I opened a present that would forever shape my life: three sparkling Diva Starz Dolls. These dolls were the most amazing dolls ever made. They were not your average soft and cuddly dolls, but rock hard and plastic. I loved them. They became my voice. Soon after that morning, my directing days began. I directed everyone that ever played with the Diva Starz and me. My great aunt, my cousins, even my mother’s friends all fell victim to these dolls with giant expressive eyes and horribly knotty hair. They followed my dialog. However, if I did not like the direction they were taking, I stopped them and demanded they start over. Those were magical times.

The first time I directed from behind the camera my Diva Starz had...

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