FINDING THE SWEET SPOT
Iwas a shy kid. I was an observer. I unconsciously needed to feel safe before I shared a piece of my world. And at the age of five, as I sang in English, which was not my mother tongue, to a gymnasium of unfamiliar faces as Mother Mary in the kindergarten Christmas concert, my realization that the stage in fact was my safe place began. I know this seems an extreme realization for a kid to arrive at, but the feeling was undeniably there.
I was born in Mississauga to parents with Polish roots. I would become the eldest of three siblings and the first of nine cousins. I was basically the ring leader of “Generation Next” in our family, being the first one to face those life choices all young people have to live through. I bent my parents Polish-catholic beliefs in the process, and was sometimes obliquely or overtly criticized for my decisions, but then, when their turn came, the younger Generation Nexters coming up behind me would cruise through where once there were parental barriers. I say that with a smile and a degree of satisfaction because somewhere on my path of self discovery, I realized that I am a rule-breaker with good intentions and a trailblazer who feels more centred when she fights the norm.
That being said, I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. I mean, I dabbled with the idea of becoming a doctor or a film animator at one point. I could handle the guts and gore but not the emotions of being a doctor, and the idea of working in film just seemed too far out in left field to me. My formative years were actually spent on the baseball diamond and in the dance studio. My parents met while performing; Mom was dancing and Dad was doing the lighting. Sports and “entertainment” were the centre of my childhood. My siblings and I played several competitive sports and our extra guest at dinner on Saturdays was Hockey Night in Canada. At every family gathering, my cousins and I would perform a self-directed “showstopper” for dessert. When I look back at where it all began for me, it was right there.
I thank my vocal teacher for pushing me to audition for Sheridan College’s prestigious Music Theatre Performance program. Honestly, I was lost as I was finishing high school. In fact, I was lost throughout high school. I never felt stimulated. When I was looking at post-secondary options, nothing I was passionate about had an adequately supported career path to follow, let alone an ideal one. It was draining. I felt insignificant, alone and dierent. When you are trying to find your footing as a teenager in the race to adulthood, it’s an emotional undertaking.
Becoming the Raptors’ game-day host was a ‘wild and magical’ ride. But that’s only part of the story
I had started vocal lessons only months before I auditioned for theatre school, but I had never taken an acting class. Dance was my domain and yet there I stood in a room cycling hundreds of hopefuls from around the world through its door. But I followed my heart and I left my everything in that space. And I got in—with a group of about 60 insanely talented almost intimidating individuals, some with years of theatre experience—i actually got in! They were the most physically and emotionally gratifying, and draining, three years of my life. Only 32 of us made it all the way through to graduation.
I now believe in the combination of potential and passion. Perfection is overrated. It’s the sweet spot just below perfection where the magic often happens. Knowing you are not perfect makes you vulnerable—and curious about that vulnerability. Questions like “Am I ever going to be good enough?” can spark your curiosity in a good way, and soon you’re asking, “What can I do better?” Next thing you know, you’ve reaffirmed your potential in your own mind and your passion for what you do is stronger than ever.
The funny thing about artistic endeavours, something that I’ve learned to embrace rather than fear, is that there is not an A, B, C sort of path to follow. Even today, I often have a whole lot of “I don’t know” surrounding me, but I attack the unknown with all of the skills I learned breaking into the industry, and keep moving forward.
My first professional gig was as a member of the Toronto Raptors Dance Pak. It allowed me to perform, be seen and practise my craft while I continued to audition for other roles. My early days circled endlessly between games, rehearsals, auditions, overnight movie shoots, dancing at bar mitzvahs and welcoming guests for breakfast at the Royal York Hotel. In between, I practised and put energy into the things that made me happiest.
And then out of the blue, I was oered a microphone and asked to deliver my own segment on the
Raptors TV pregame show. Which I did, often with hiccups (literally and figuratively), but I was always given the opportunity to try again. I am grateful to have had a space to fail and grow at the same time, all because someone saw my passion and believed in my potential.
More opportunities followed when I was asked to become the Raptor’s inarena host. It meant hanging up my dancing shoes, but in addition to game-day and digital hosting, I gained incredible experience hosting four NBA All-star weekends—and have a championship ring!
All of that opened my heart to the realization that I’m not meant to do one thing professionally. So here I am now, doing a million and one things every week, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I’m a performer and a storyteller, a host, reporter and emcee, a content creator, producer and a writer and I’m always looking for more.
And I’m a fighter who believes in turning your passions into a living. I am beyond grateful for my parents’ support and all the people who helped me discover my purpose in life and the means to attain it.