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On November 4th, 2023, in a large celebration at Casa Familiar Station San Ysidro, a 12-foot puppet named Little Amal united a diverse group of individuals hailing from all areas of San Diego, Southern California, and Mexico. In July 2021, Amal, a beacon of hope, love, curiosity, and human rights, embarked on a journey around the world to spread awareness about displacement and community building across cultures, nationalities, and politics. I participated as a member of the UC San Diego Chicanx Teatro Ensemble, a collective of artists dedicated to using theater as a means of activism and cultural expression. An hour-long event titled Take a Message For Me connected the San Ysidro neighborhood and Teatro students across various disciplines, including design, dance, and acting, to curate a ceremony in honor of Amal’s last day in the United States. Amal and the Handspring Puppet Company had been traveling across the country from September to November, where she made multiple appearances and eventually landed in San Ysidro. On the day of her celebration, she danced with us, received a blessing from Kumeyaay elders, and took our messages to share with those at a migrant facility in Tijuana, Mexico. My role included establishing connections and liaising between the institutional entity of UC San Diego and the San Ysidro community. In traditional theatre, where the performance occurs on a stage, and the audience enjoys the show from a seated area, a Stage Manager coordinates when technical elements such as lights, sound, scenery, and video cues are executed. However, in site-specific events, such as Take a Message For Me, where the performance occurs in an alleyway surrounded by residential backyards and driveways, I originated and reshaped the role of the traditional Stage Manager into one that responds to the troupe’s dynamics and a non-traditional environment. The values I carry as an artist were transferred into my role as the Production Coordinator, modeling compassi

The character of Prospére remains onstage throughout the The Green Cockatoo, running the bar while Paris burns. This production taught me that I can be the good captain, empowering the crew to thrive during difficult times, without needing to be Prospére. One of the goals for my work during this process was establishing and embracing my formal authority by setting firm boundaries. Unexpectedly, the occurrence of physical hardship required me to observe the production from the balcony, while trusting and delegating to the team. I learned to lead adaptively, relying upon connections with my collaborators. We empowered each other to make decisions based upon trust in each other’s abilities. When I began graduate school, I considered myself a problem solver, and was proud of my diverse skillset and quick thinking. However, that approach led to a pattern of taking on too much responsibility. I was only able to successfully move to the balcony and look at the bigger picture once I detached my identity as a fixer from my role as a stage manager. During this journey, I have worked towards embracing the theory of good-enough leadership and empowering the stage management team as a whole. My management style has evolved from being a fixer to an explorer, responding adaptively to challenges without fear of failure. In The Green Cockatoo, Prospére ran the bar and the acting company by herself until the bitter end. Unlike her, I have learned to adapt and delegate.

Throughout the process of The Taming of The Shrew(d), my ability to take risks and adapt my approach prompted me to grow as a leader. At the beginning of the process, I was uncertain about the boundaries of my formal authority. Some of my ingrained cultural norms blocked me from partnering with the faculty director. I had the expectation that I would step outside of my comfort zone and confront my identity as a leader. The cultural differences were obstacles before the process that transformed into an open door when I clarified my stakes and engaged in daring communication skills. I used direct language and engaged in transparent conversation. I learned that allowing my voice to be heard was more comfortable than I had previously perceived, and I started to take risks that developed my strengths as a leader. Owning and exercising my authority became more intuitive when the process moved into tech rehearsals. I navigated uncertainty and chaos on our first day in the theater, asking for help from my collaborators, and working towards our common goal of beginning tech with all elements intact. I learned that my focus on each moment of the process, rather than pleasing my collaborators, supported me as a leader. I realized when I dared to take risks and experiment with actions outside of my comfort zone, I was free from fear and anxiety, and embraced my formal authority by actively taking risks.

Cyclin-dependent kinases (Cdks) are principal drivers of cell division and are an important therapeutic target to inhibit aberrant proliferation. Cdk enzymatic activity is tightly controlled through cyclin interactions, posttranslational modifications, and binding of inhibitors such as the p27 tumor suppressor protein. Spy1/RINGO (Spy1) proteins bind and activate Cdk but are resistant to canonical regulatory mechanisms that establish cell-cycle checkpoints. Cancer cells exploit Spy1 to stimulate proliferation through inappropriate activation of Cdks, yet the mechanism is unknown. We have determined crystal structures of the Cdk2-Spy1 and p27-Cdk2-Spy1 complexes that reveal how Spy1 activates Cdk. We find that Spy1 confers structural changes to Cdk2 that obviate the requirement of Cdk activation loop phosphorylation. Spy1 lacks the cyclin-binding site that mediates p27 and substrate affinity, explaining why Cdk-Spy1 is poorly inhibited by p27 and lacks specificity for substrates with cyclin-docking sites. We identify mutations in Spy1 that ablate its ability to activate Cdk2 and to proliferate cells. Our structural description of Spy1 provides important mechanistic insights that may be utilized for targeting upregulated Spy1 in cancer.

The production process of Hamlet provided me with opportunities to embody various attributes of conscious leadership. In Hamlet, the eponymous character asserts "there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." This quotation relates to the practice of mindfulness, which I have incorporated into my work as a leader. As the Production Stage Manager of Hamlet, I was a conscious leader, cultivating awareness of the production's collaborative dynamics and ways in which I could actively and intentionally facilitate continual change. The majority of the characters in Hamlet are woefully unaware of the disturbing realities of their lives. Hamlet, however, is arguably the most aware being in Elsinore; he knows that he must confront his inner demons to bring justice and righteousness back to his world. He realizes, "I must be cruel only to be kind, thus bad begins and worse remains behind." Only by exposing the people of Denmark to this painful truth can they begin to restore balance, harmony, and peace to the kingdom. Conscious leadership means being aware of the adaptive challenges surrounding collaboration. It means remaining flexible in the midst of change and empathically speaking truth to foster trust. By culminating my graduate studies with Hamlet, I have grown to understand that support cannot exist without presence, flexibility cannot exist without compassion, and curiosity cannot exist without courage. Through my journey towards conscious leadership, I have discovered how to guide with an open mind and an open heart.

Thinking with my heart and my mind is a skill that I have cultivated in my graduate studies and an attribute that distinguishes my stage management style. When I allow my work as a stage manager to be supported by my heart, I increase my capacity to empathize with others. This wholehearted engagement empowers me to actively navigate production challenges that defy logic. The process of leading with my heart comes instinctually to me and there have been times when colleagues have challenged this approach to my work. Similarly, the character of Kate in She Stoops to Conquer second-guesses her instincts when encountering challenges in communicating with Marlow.By engaging both heart and mind and allowing space for uncertainty, I have found a way to work through these challenges and find solutions. As Kate discovers what is holding Marlow back in She Stoops to Conquer, she begins to sense what he needs and therefore begins to adapt her approach. I have learned that by remaining flexible, I am better prepared to serve the work and meet the needs of my collaborators. This process has strengthened my belief in my wholehearted approach and has generated greater capacity for growth. I have learned to trust my instincts and face challenges while inspiring my collaborators and supporting the process of collective artistry with both my heart and mind.

The prevailing metaphors in In the Red and Brown Water are wind and water, and I likened my work on the production to a river. Water can be strong, and also gentle. It can adapt to terrain or transform landscape. During this collaboration I focused on flowing with the production process, as ideas emerged and evolved and decisions were fluid. It has been a huge breakthrough to trust my instincts in a new way to serve the production, and discover that I cannot default to my impulses to impose rigidity and structure. A production, like a river, is going to keep flowing and a group of artists cannot be controlled. I guided and adapted to the process, but I could not change it, because it was bigger and stronger than me. During my graduate studies, I have learned that there is no "right way," there is only the way I am working right now, and my approach can be different for each project. As someone who enjoys structure and routine, the open-ended possibilities are challenging to accept. But as an experiential learner, flexibility has been my journey, and through many theatre and dance productions I have developed my personal stage management style to be open to the needs of each project. With the culmination of my formal training, my style is to be more like water: finding the flow and guiding others through the production.

Spring Awakening is the story of adolescence, of finding oneself in a moment of chaos, and discovering the bonds of friendship that defy the odds. In the final scene of the play, it is Melchior and Moritz's unswerving commitment that gives the audience hope and faith in the future. Similarly, the relationship between the director (Anthony) and I became the inspiration for discovery and peace amidst the chaos. The organic and wordless evolution of our connection formed an authentic collaborative energy that filled the room. It is hard to explain chemistry--there was no hesitating, only instinctual flow, and even with conflict, we returned to the trusted bond that we had built. We shared a commitment to the show and tackled the provocative subject matter and complicated dynamics of a large cast by balancing our strengths and challenging one another to fulfill our creative potential. Our relationship was surprisingly intuitive and as comfortable as breathing, possessing a magic that was foundational to the entire process. Anthony and I stood together as artistic partners and I emerged as the leader of a team. This collaborative energy emerged through the stage management team dynamics on last year's production of Hedda Gabler and continued to grow with the cross-cultural bond I formed with Cambodian performers on my residency in Brazil. These symphonic encounters have been catalysts in my graduate work, inspiring me to discover synergy in my working style and relationships.

When I engage my intuition, I can walk into any situation and read, comprehend, and adjust, working to set effective goals that support the production. Malcolm Gladwell refers to this engagement as "court-sense," coup d'oeil, the power of the glance, which is the essence of a great stage manager. Intuition and court-sense have been essential tools throughout my graduate studies and The Dybbuk created a collaborative space to work intuitively. In rehearsals for The Dybbuk, we discussed a Talmudic concept that the bodily vibration of Jews during prayer mimics the motion of flame striving to escape its wick. As depicted in the play, every person has a spark of the divine in them. The flame represents the inescapable pull of one's soul towards God. It is not a rational, quantifiable phenomenon. Rather, it is something that must be intuited. Certain forms of Jewish prayer such as the wordless nigun performed in the show attempt to hone that intuition.The cast of The Dybbuk was not familiar with these Jewish customs or traditions and establishing a safe environment was important for meaningful collaboration. I was encouraged to share my thoughts and opinions, and felt unencumbered and integral throughout the process. The active trust I shared with the director allowed me to invest deeply in the production and I was a living, breathing part of the creative process. This intuitive experience, which was so present in The Dybbuk, allowed me to culminate my graduate studies, connecting my professional journey to my coup d'oeil.