Common Interview Questions

I didn't set out to become a teacher—I set out to share the magic of theatre. But over time, I realized that teaching is the magic. I was raised in a mixed household by a single mother and my grandparents, and education became a space where I finally felt seen. From memorizing CATS as a child to teaching students of all abilities how to express themselves, I’ve always believed that learning is a radical, liberating act.

I've been the kid who was too loud, too much, too different—and now I teach those kids. I create classrooms where students can explore, grieve, laugh, and grow unapologetically. Teaching isn’t just my profession—it’s my legacy and my purpose.

I begin with the assumption that everyone enters a classroom carrying something unseen. My work is rooted in trauma-informed methods, including opt-out systems, reflective journaling, movement-based regulation strategies, and culturally responsive scaffolding.

For students with IEPs or who are multilingual learners, I integrate visual supports, chunked instruction, and project options that honor voice and accessibility. I’ve had non-verbal students perform story-based work using symbols, cue cards, and self-created props. Inclusion isn’t an add-on; it’s the foundation.

I’ve written full scope and sequence plans aligned to Colorado Academic Standards, AVID methodologies, and MYP frameworks. Whether I’m designing a Theatre Management project or a 9th-grade ELA grammar unit, I blend real-world tasks with standards-aligned assessments that emphasize critical thinking, collaboration, and creativity.

Students in my classes research, revise, collaborate, present, and reflect. I believe academic rigor isn’t about busywork—it’s about relevance. I want my students to leave confident in their ideas and prepared to engage critically with the world.

I curate seasons that challenge performers, captivate audiences, and spark meaningful dialogue. For example, my proposed 2025–2026 season included:

• The Play That Goes Wrong and Witches? In Salem?! (comedy through chaos)

• Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Frankenstein (classical horror and ethical complexity)

• Ride the Cyclone and Radium Girls (grief, justice, and adolescent voice)

I also pair selections with trauma-informed practices, audience talkbacks, equity-centered casting, and partnerships with organizations like Staging the Future and Opera Colorado. My programming asks: What will stretch the artist? Serve the community? Live in memory?

My classroom management style is built on proactive structure, mutual respect, and relationship-centered teaching. I use community agreements, clear routines, and consistent expectations to create a safe learning culture.

I prioritize restorative conversations, reflection tools, and emotional check-ins when challenges arise. I don’t manage behavior—I support students. My goal is always to uncover the “why” behind behavior and to equip students with tools for self-regulation and accountability.

I bring an educator's heart and a director's clarity to every rehearsal. In higher ed or professional settings, I shift from scaffolding to collaboration—inviting performers to co-author the emotional and thematic spine of a piece. I apply rigorous text analysis, historical context, and embodied training to deepen choices and build ensemble trust.

My thesis on Maeterlinck's The Intruder reflects this ethos. I directed it twice, each time training my actor playing Grandfather to rehearse blindfolded—exploring helplessness and sensory vulnerability as a performance tool. At a professional company or university, I'd bring that same level of research, risk, and respect to every production, while mentoring early-career artists and bridging academia with community artistry.

Leadership is about visibility and accountability. I lead by example, by listening, and by lifting others. Whether it's running a Visual & Performing Arts Council, building a K–12 theatre program from scratch, or leading student crews to raise $6,000 annually through merchandising and community fundraising, I ensure systems are student-centered, equity-driven, and creatively sustainable.

I’ve supervised adult teams in directing Chekhov, collaborated on production meetings with professional designers, and served as a liaison between students and administration. My leadership is rooted in clarity, reflection, humor, and the belief that the work only works if everyone feels safe enough to try.

I approach collaboration with transparency, humor, and clarity of purpose. Whether co-planning interdisciplinary projects, coordinating field trips with arts organizations, or facilitating student leadership councils, I ensure that all voices are heard and systems are sustainable.

I’ve led team meetings, developed department-wide initiatives, mentored new teachers, and partnered with organizations like Theatreworks, Opera Colorado, and Staging the Future to bring arts access to Title I students. Collaboration, to me, means building systems that outlast any one person—and doing so with joy.

I use restorative practices that prioritize dialogue, accountability, and healing. We begin each year by co-creating community norms and communication protocols. When conflict arises, I hold space for honest conversation: What happened? What was the impact? What do we need to repair?

I’ve successfully mediated peer conflicts, restructured group dynamics after breakdowns, and supported students through grief, anxiety, and interpersonal stress. I don’t avoid conflict—I navigate it with empathy and consistency.

There are many. Watching students lead full projects from vision to execution—like our student-run one-act festival—was unforgettable. So was witnessing a non-verbal student perform a story they developed, with symbol cards and handmade props, for a class of peers who cheered them on.

But I’m equally proud of the quieter moments: staying after class with a student who needed to vent, or hearing “this is the first place I didn’t feel like a burden.” Those are the moments that ground me.

I see myself either as a university professor leading bold, inclusive theatre and education programming, or as the founder and director of a local theatre company that nurtures both young and adult artists. In either setting, I want to create safe spaces where performance and pedagogy meet; where healing and challenge coexist; and where my children (and others') grow up surrounded by accessible, powerful, community-rooted art.

A large part of this vision includes developing a model that combines directing and therapeutic support for actors, designers, and production staff working with emotionally intense or triggering material. For example, in a production of A Streetcar Named Desire, I would support the actor playing Blanche both on stage as a director and in therapeutic session-style debriefs, guiding them through the character’s experiences with job loss, mental health struggles, and sexual trauma. Too often, performers enter the industry without training on how to protect their emotional well-being in roles that require vulnerability and depth. I want to prevent further harm caused by unchecked method acting or emotionally unsafe rehearsal spaces.

My long-term vision includes mentoring pre-service teachers and performers, building partnerships across schools and cultural institutions, and expanding access to creative experiences for underserved communities. I want to be where the learning is alive, the storytelling is sacred, and the stage is open to all.