“I was the kid who wanted to turn every little bit of a play or reenactment in a reading book into a full production. Only four lines? Get the lights! Grab the costumes! Let’s build a set! In third grade, we were doing a performance in the cafeteria where I played a tree…and I was going to be the best tree this town has ever seen! I got an actual twig from outside and poked it through the cardboard tree I was holding.
It. Was. Shakespeare.
Then I got to middle school, and a teacher told me about the Bay City Players and their Summer Youth Theater Program…but we didn't have the money for it. I was so sad, so my big brother helped me collect bottles, run errands, and do odd jobs for people to earn the money. We managed to get together enough money, but when we got there, they told us that the signup had closed. I was broken.
We started walking away, but my brother turned around and said, ‘No, this young man has to be here,’ and they let me sign up.
Total hero, my brother. He doesn’t even like theater. His favorite part about theater is me, and that's about it. He would come see the shows, and I remember a cast member was like, ‘Who's that guy snoring in the audience?’ I knew right away it was my brother. But that support was everything I needed. He is that guy and will always be that guy, and not just for his family: if he sees somebody on the side of the road needing help, he's going to stop and help.
Being on stage was one of the greatest experiences ever. It was the first place that I wasn't told to sit down and be quiet. Even better? I was encouraged to be LOUDER. That was like, ‘Oh, this is home! Look no further, I'm home!’
At that time in my life, it made me think I could do anything in the world.
In theater, you get to express yourself in whatever way makes you comfortable. In math class, you don't get to do that and the math wizards are going to excel. In English class, great readers are going to be at the top. But in classes like theater, some of the kids who can’t excel in those other classes shine brighter than 10,000 suns because they get to express themselves more freely.
Imagine being a kid who struggles in those more ‘academic’ classes, but there's one class where you learn better than everyone else? That is priceless! Especially for what it does for a child’s personality at that age. What it does for your expression! In theater, I feel like there will always be stand out performers, but there's always a way for each person to shine.
Theater teaches you to be comfortable working in group settings and speaking in public. Rehearsal is always going to be a different process and experience. It's always a group of people coming together to create something. You might not have known anybody in that group before, but by the time the show starts, those people are closer than your family.
It teaches you problem solving skills and thinking quickly of what you would have to do if you missed a line or something went wrong on stage or you missed a dance step. Even if theater doesn’t become a career, there are so many skills in theater or putting a show together that transfer to anything a child will grow up to do in life.”

“Growing up, I tried to get into every theater production I could. From my freshman year until the year after I graduated, there were only two weeks where I wasn’t rehearsing or performing in a show. I did the shows at Bay City Central High School, while doing local shows at Pit & Balcony Community Theatre and Midland Center for the Arts. To practice, I would go to the music store and buy the cast album for a particular show. If I couldn't afford to buy the album, there was a store in Saginaw that had listening stations, so I would sit in the store and listen to the song that I thought I was going to audition for to learn it.
I went to Midland Center for the Arts to audition for Brigadoon, and I was like, ‘No way that Midland Center for the Arts is going to cast me in anything. They're not going to have this chubby Black kid in a kilt running around on stage!’
But they did! They cast me right away. The choreographer, Pennye Padgett, became a dear friend of mine, and I still talk to her on a regular basis. She made me a dance captain. Walking in not knowing anyone to be welcomed and loved by the community, the actors, the volunteers, was amazing.
Performing was my life and my everything. When I was doing those shows in high school, I didn't know theater was a profession. I knew there was Broadway, but I didn't know much about it. I didn't know that I could do that for a living. I just knew that I had to perform that there was nothing else I wanted to do in my life.
That's also why now we have a wonderful group of friends that began the SPARK Artistic Mentorship Program. When I was young, there were so many opportunities I didn't know about and right now, there are so many young people out there looking for those opportunities but don't know where to look.”

“I started college out in California, but it wasn’t for me. It was a struggle: we had rehearsals on weekends, so I couldn't get a job. I went back home to regroup and started working at a hotel while trying to do as many shows as I could. Then a friend of mine was like, ‘Let's move to New York!’, so we packed up, drove to New York City, and found an apartment.
I went down to Times Square looking for jobs, applying everywhere, and at every restaurant I could. I got a job at Bubba Gump Shrimp Company. It was one of those places where the more excitement you could have and the louder, crazier, and funnier you were, the easier the work was and the higher in the company you would go. So, I was like, ‘Oh, this is it.’ I could basically rehearse while I was at work while working in Times Square. The restaurant is right under where the ball drops. Celebrities would come in all the time. Then I joined their training program and went around the world opening restaurants in Hong Kong, Japan, and Mexico. I'd do commercials.
The entire time I was also auditioning, trying to get into every show I could. My first show in New York was a show called Pinkalicious, from the children's book, and I played Mr. Pinkerton. I had a blast and met more people. I took classes, did a bunch of things to get to know people and make connections, and learn about the business of being a performer.
While I was in North Carolina doing The Lost Colony for three summers, I met some friends and they wanted to sing some music from their rock opera. We had a blast. I came back to New York and they were doing it at the New York Musical Theater Festival, so I ended up doing that with them. Then they did another version at Ars Nova, and I did that, too.
Then in 2013, I lost my mom.
When I would call my mom disappointed about not getting a role, she would say, ‘That just means their show is going to be crap! That's fine. Let them have a mediocre show. They can have the best with you or they can have a mediocre show.’
When I would say, ‘Mom, tell me it's okay to move home,’ she would say, ‘No, because it's not okay to move home. If you want to come home, you can't stay at my house. I'll never give you a reason to stop living your dreams.’
My mom was the best, and after she passed, I was sad and stayed home, telling myself that I wouldn’t go back to New York until I ‘knew I needed to be in New York.’
But that wasn’t what my mom would have wanted. I started thinking, ‘You did not go to New York for 10 years for this. You didn't miss 10 years of your mother's life to stay here and not do anything. You've heard the worst news of your life. What can somebody on the other side of the table say to you now? You have already dealt with one of the hardest things you'll ever deal with. Why not go in there and kick down every door?’
I started to step out of my own way and just jump forward.”

“I auditioned for Aladdin on Broadway. I had gotten there as early as I could, but after 10 hours of auditions, I ended up in the last group....and we only had eight bars of music to sing. I had just done Little Shop of Horrors that summer and in the song, 'Feed Me', Audrey says, ‘I'm your genie. I'm your friend. I'm your willing slave.’ So because I was auditioning for the role of Genie, I was like, ‘Well, I'm going to start at ‘I'm your genie’ and just go until they stop me.’ I did and they loved it. They called me back, but nothing came from that audition.
Then I was working in Utah when they were holding auditions for the national tour of Aladdin. I sent in a video audition. They reached out to the agent I was working with about one of her other clients, and she was like, ‘No, you already have the person you need to hire. You didn't watch Korie’s video, did you?’ 15 minutes later, they called her and asked if I could come to New York and audition in-person, and before I even got to the subway after leaving my audition, they asked if I could come to Genie Camp: a week-long process with 12 other men, all doing all the material for the entire week.
Out of the Genie Camp, two of us became standbys for the tour, and one person became a standby for the Broadway company. I didn't even know what a standby was when they hired me. In a show, a standby is somebody sitting in the dressing room, so if something goes wrong with the lead actor, they will stop the show long enough for the standby to get ready, and then the standby will continue the show.
I was standing in my hotel room when my agent called, and she was like, ‘Are you sitting down?’ She told me they had reached out with an offer to become the full-time Genie. I turned and did a couple circles in my hotel room. After three years of the tour, I became the full-time Genie. I couldn't even believe it. I was so happy and I didn't even know that there was a next level of feeling so good.
The tour ran up until shutdown. But the Broadway company of Aladdin, was one of the first shows to reopen so, I thought, ‘Okay, now it’s time for Broadway.’

“I started rehearsals for Aladdin on Broadway two and a half weeks before my debut as Genie. During my debut, my right pant leg came undone at the beginning of ‘Friend Like Me,’ so the whole number I spent holding up my right pant leg, which helped me not think about the nerves that come with a Broadway debut. There were the tears, there were the big applauses, and there was all of the wonderfulness.
Fast forward three months. I'm doing two shows on Wednesday, off Thursday, and then my family was flying in to see me perform on Friday.
I did the first show. It goes wonderfully. I stretch and go to the gym in between, I'm feeling good. At the second show, I'm about to go on stage and the audience is on fire. I’m thinking, ‘Let's go give them what they want!’
I make my entrance and as I’m talking to Aladdin, I say, ‘Let me see if Mr. Genie has still got it,’ and do a cartwheel. As my right leg left the ground, I heard a big POP. I thought, ‘I wonder if anybody else heard that?’ As I landed, I couldn't stand.
Then I was like, ‘Oh, that was me.’ The next line is, ‘Mr. Genie’s still got it, mama!’ I said that line and I was like, ‘Oh no you don't. Something is definitely wrong.’ I couldn’t put any weight on my foot.
You don't rehearse how to stop a show. How do I get out of this? So, I went up and stood next to Aladdin and I'm trying to look off stage to get somebody's eye contact, but I can't see anybody. The conductor looks afraid. I'm looking at Aladdin and it literally felt like I was saying all my lines at once as I was trying to get someone’s attention and they would stop the show.
I turned around…and saw a microphone popping up out of the floor, which meant it was time to do the entire ‘Friend Like Me’ number. I couldn't do choreography. I couldn't put weight on my foot, but I'm trying to play it off. At one point in the number, I had to gooffstage to get another microphone, so when I went back I said, ‘Something’s happened to my ankle!’ and everybody scattered to go get help.
I went back out to try to do some of the choreography. We finish the number and I get offstage. There's one more scene before an intermission, and my stage manager says, ‘Hey, can you finish the act or do I need to stop the show now?’ At that point, I was still in shock and didn't know what was happening, so I said, ‘I might as well finish the act.’
That was a horrible idea, but we finished the act, and when I got in the elevator I was in adrenaline shock. I'm sobbing, crying and I’m confused. I'm saying sorry to everyone but I don't know why I'm saying sorry. I get to the dressing room and take everything off and my leg is swollen. My ankle is swollen. We don't know what it is. My stage manager thinks it's an Achilles tear and I'm like, ‘Oh, don't be that. That could be serious.’
So, I go home and talk to my family and say, ‘Hey, something happened. See you tomorrow.’
The next day I have an MRI, and that’s when I tell my family, ‘Hey, you're not going to see me on Broadway.’ I had completely torn my Achilles tendon in my right leg.
Funny that it's the right leg, though—that's the pant leg that messed up my debut.”

“After my injury, I had to sit in my apartment for a couple months, not walk, and do physical therapy. But then those friends I was doing the rock opera with down in North Carolina reached out and said, ‘Hey, we know you're not really able to walk or perform onstage, so would you want to do a concert?’
I thought I could do it: the first time we did the show, I played Dionysus and sang one song, so I said sure.
They're like, ‘That's wonderful, but we don't want you to play that role. We want you to play Cyclops.’ I was like, ‘You want me to play Cyclops?! Absolutely. Yes, yes, yes! I have been living in a cave for the past couple months anyway, so it feels very parallel to what my life is. One eye, one leg!’
I would not have been able to do this had I been in Aladdin. It's just crazy how things are working out, because they are working out. Through this process, I found out I am not going to be going back into Aladdin, but never once did it feel like devastation. I've had about six years in the lamp and had the time of my life! I’ve made one of my wildest dreams come true! I’ve performed it on Broadway! I’m not missing anything. For me, the tragic part is missing the people that I got to see every day. But through Cyclops, I am now meeting more people, so who knows?
If I can be the Genie on Broadway, there's not any role out there that I can't do, so let's make something impossible happen again!
“For kids wanting to get into theater and maybe take things to the professional level, I would tell them that it's always going to be hard. Most of the time if you want something, it's going to be hard to get it.
But you don't need a magic lamp. You don't need three wishes. You don't need anything but yourself.
I wish I could have told myself that, because there's a lot of hard times, a lot of fighting and a lot of doubt that I had to clear out of the way for this to happen in my life. You can make anything happen in your life—anything, as long as you're willing to do the work. Nothing is too big. I am a glowing example of that. If you are willing to do the work, nothing can stop you. Nothing can get in the way. You can be an astronaut; a doctor and you can do whatever you want. That is a superpower. I hope everyone understands that. Do the work—because you're worth it—but actually doing the work is 100% up to you.”
– Korie Lee Blossey