
Tell us a little about yourself and your career.
I grew up in San Juan, Puerto Rico—a white-passing, Jewish Puerto Rican … You tell people that, and they just can’t wrap their heads around it. But for me, it was the norm. You went to Hebrew school every Monday and Wednesday after school, AND you also indulged in your abuela’s not-so-kosher pasteles. As a writer, I strive to address that same duality in my work—focus the narrative on a blended, or hybrid, protagonist who exists at that same intersection between “too Latine” and “not Latine” enough.” Sneaking those kind of stories into Hollywood is still very much my top secret agenda, but these days I’m honestly excited to work on anything that challenges or subverts audience’s expectations of Latine storytelling/content. I’m a writer on one of the most exciting examples of what a bilingual, Latine show on television can look like—and it just so happens to be an animated kids show.
Who are your inspirations in the field of animation?
Niki López and Bruce W. Smith. Niki is my current boss and creator of the Nick Jr. hit series Santiago of the Seas. She’s also a champion of Latine representation across the board (above the line and below it) and one of the greatest advocates for diversity and inclusivity I’ve seen in this industry yet. She’s making our home—Puerto Rico—proud, and spotlighting our culture and our values in such a beautiful way. We don’t get a lot of stories about us, so the fact that this is also BY US … That’s someone who’s helping carve out space for other voices to be heard.
By that same token, I’m a huge fan of Bruce W. Smith, who not only had a hand in some of my favorite films—Space Jam, Tarzan—but created one of my all-time favorite shows growing up, The Proud Family. The Proud Family was a game changer! It felt like real people I actually knew, and it also felt like the first time I saw a different kind of family on TV.
What challenges have you faced in navigating a career in animation?

The biggest challenge has been learning about the animation process in general and how something as simple as an assets list can curb your imagination. I always thought animation was a free-for-all where the only real limits were what you could dream up. But the realities of working in animation are very different than the romanticized ideals I’d built up in my head.
Part of what I love about television writing so much is that it’s a collaborative art form, and that is even truer for animation. The way everything is so intertwined—if something unravels, it threatens to unravel so many other things. It helps to have a basic understanding of what everyone else does, so I think that’s the greatest challenge in animation: learning everyone else’s job. How all the parts work together.
What do you hope to accomplish as an artist in the animation industry?
I know this one should probably be about the impact I’d like to have on the industry at large—but I’m gonna go with writing the next classic Disney princess feature. With a powerhouse Latina at the center of that story, of course. Those films were such a formative part of my upbringing, but I rarely recognized myself in any of the work. I’d love to give that gift to some other excited niña chiquita wherever she might be.
What does being in the Union mean to you?
I’m so grateful to [TAG] for everything it does to protect its members, as well as for creating spaces and opportunities for fellow artists to meet and exchange ideas. It’s through events and the subcommittees that organically take shape within an organization like this that many of us are able to meet other like-minded people and generate both work and community. And of course, it’s nice to know you can expect to get paid a certain baseline amount for the work you undoubtedly toiled over. As a baby writer, I am constantly being asked to do work for free, and it’s nice to know there’s someone else besides you fighting in your corner!