This weekend I watched Quiet On Set, a documentary about child stars on Nickelodeon during the 90’s and early 2000’s. My heart broke watching the series, seeing how children and their parents were completely taken advantage of and the toll it took on their lives. No matter what the circumstances, our childhoods all have a lasting impact on us. Whether we experienced a broken home, overbearing parents, or unstable relationships within our families, we're all bound to have our own unique traumas that we must work through in order to heal as adults.
When I was around 10 years old, I stormed into my living room and professed to my father that when I grew up, I wanted to be famous. I don’t think I actually remember saying that to my dad, but I will never forget his reaction: “Being famous isn’t a profession.”
He had a point. So I went back to my room and thought about what I really wanted to do with my life. I had a lot of time to ponder these things as an only child living in New York City. It wasn’t like I could go for a bike ride around the cul-de-sac with my siblings. I was the only child of two immigrants who abandoned their parents' dreams for them (military and medicine) to pursue their passions in the arts and entertainment industry. My parents met at NYU film school, divorced when I was two years old, and split everything 50/50, including time spent with me. They lived across the street from one another and co-parented long before Gwyneth Paltrow invented “conscious uncoupling.” For better or for worse, as an only child, the focus was always on me. Yes, I had all the attention, but this also meant I had all the pressure, which forced me to become an adult rather quickly.
Because my parents were both in the entertainment industry - movies and television are what we grew up talking about. When I was with my dad, an independent filmmaker, we would constantly watch films. Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window and Vertigo were among our favorites. My mom was an executive for unscripted television, so I would get to watch everything on TV from All That to Lizzie McGuire. My mom had to work late, so I frequently went to meet her at MTV after school and spent the afternoon in the TRL studio, either hanging out with Sway in the dressing room, or hiding from Carson Daily in the studio. (I was a little young to be sitting with the audience.)
I would often visit my dad on set. I especially remember when shot his feature, Keane, starring Damian Lewis. One of the main locations was the Port Authority Bus Terminal and he let me be one of the extras, waiting for a bus. Before the cameras rolled, my dad told me “whatever you do, do not look into the camera”, so naturally, I became very aware of the camera. I loved watching my dad direct. I remember being in disbelief that every single person on set was there because of the script he wrote in our kitchen. I had watched him wake up at 6am every single day to write. What’s remarkable is that he was able to make a living being an independent filmmaker. The most important lesson my dad taught me was to find what I love to do and become the best at it -- eventually the money will come. His passion, work ethic, discipline and perseverance are qualities I constantly strive for. It’s also worth mentioning that I longed (and still long for) my dad’s approval.
So after being told fame wasn’t a profession, I logged onto Neopets and went back to the drawing board. I asked myself: what did Hilary Duff, Mary Kate and Ashley and Amanda Bynes have in common? They were actresses. By ten years old, I was already acting. From playing Feste, the clown, in The Twelfth Night to Lumière in Beauty & The Beast — I loved entertaining and making people laugh.
I told my dad I wanted to go to auditions. He told me that if I was serious about acting, I had to enroll in lessons for at least two years before auditioning for a role.
“I wanted to make sure that you were committed to acting, that it was a real passion and you were willing to put in the work. Too much of celebrity culture is about immediate gratification. If you want to be an actor, you should be passionate about the craft of acting and committed to studying it.”
I attended acting classes at HB Studios in the West Village for two years and then I heard a family friend was doing voice-over work on Dora The Explorer. When I was 12 years old, I begged my parents to let me audition for the Nickelodeon animated television show Go, Diego, Go!, a spin-off of the bilingual series Dora The Explorer. Although they were vehemently against me becoming a child star, they figured a voice-over role wasn’t too big of a risk. I had also proven my commitment to the craft by going to lessons every week for two years.
While my parents mentally prepared me for rejection, I had zero expectations for getting the role. The fact that I had a chance was so exciting. For the first audition, I was instructed to leave a voicemail reading lines of dialogue from the show. I remember the landline glitching and having to leave a second voicemail in case the first one didn’t go through. Later, I got a callback and auditioned in person, singing Happy Birthday to the casting director, in both English and Spanish, as they were specifically casting bilingual actors. I remember the name of the other girl auditioning was “Alicia,” just like the character we were auditioning for… I thought she definitely had it. Yet, after three auditions, I landed the role.
And so began my new after-school routine. I would take the subway down to Grand Central Station, pick up my large Dunkin Donuts iced coffee (I had big dreams for this new role and needed the fuel) and then I’d enter what would soon become my new favorite place, the recording studio. Working on Go Diego Go! taught me many things, including work ethic and professionalism. It also made me very proud of being Latinx. I loved how everyone in the room was of Latinx descent — the producers, the script supervisor, the sound mixer, etc. It was on that set that I realized just how valuable being bilingual and multicultural was in the entertainment industry.
Part of the job also included promotional voice-over for third party companies that did merchandising for toys and games based on the series. Unlike the series production team, the toy executives were not of Latinx descent. I vividly remember stepping into the studio one day to read my first line, which started with “Diego!” I paused and asked the producer if I should say Diego in English or Spanish. This 40-something man stared at me, an 11-year-old girl, with a blank face, clearly unaware there are two ways to pronounce the name “Diego.” I recorded it both ways, so they could decide later.
My mom would sometimes accompany me to the sessions, but often had to hire a babysitter to supervise me on days when she was working. I realize now that my designated supervisor never actually entered the room with me - they would wait outside in the studio lobby. This reminded me of the experiences of the child stars on Nickelodeon, recounting how their parents were “present” but separated from their children when it came time to film. Looking back, my mom and I agreed that it was bizarre to have this strict rule of having a guardian present with a minor, yet not having that guardian observing the minor while working. I feel so grateful that my experience as a child working at Nickelodeon was nothing but positive, especially when I realized that others weren’t so fortunate.
I ended up being let go from the show after two seasons because I went through puberty and my voice deepened. I saved the money I made from the show and put it towards my education (and 18 years later, I still get residuals.)
As I watched the documentary, Quiet On Set, it finally clicked for me. This is what my dad was protecting me from. I immediately called him and thanked him. He said:
“I wanted you to have a normal and healthy childhood. If becoming an actor was something you were passionate about, then I wanted you to view it as something you could work towards and that it is a craft. I wanted to separate acting from being a star and being a celebrity. At a young age, when you are still developing a sense of who you are, what you want to pursue and your place in the world, you should be protected from economic forces that don’t care about the individual.”
I think the reason I was able to have such a positive experience at Nickelodeon largely had to do with the fact that I was not on camera. I wasn’t recognizable to audiences. I wasn’t working alongside other actors. I also was still attending school full time and I was not pressured to contribute financially to my family. Overall, my experience of voice acting was exactly what my dad wanted to teach me: it was about committing to the craft, not about being a celebrity.
In 2024, social media is the new "set" and it seems like we're falling into the same pattern of blindly watching children for our entertainment without thinking about their well-being. The only difference is now parents are usually the ones in charge of the content and the line is blurred between “work” and “personal.” What laws, if any, will be implemented to protect these children? Curious to hear your thoughts.
Hi, this story was absolutely amazing! The details and pictures really heightened the proximity that you have let your audience witness the inner realms of your mind. I think it is quite rare to meet people that know exactly what they want to do from a very young age, but those that do, will undoubtably achieve their passions and dreams. To take a high level view and see the process transpire over the decades, must be a very rewarding and grounding experience, regardless of the hurdles and bumps along the way. It's simply that one knows what they want (or thinks that they do haha), but they don't exactly know how to get there (which is the fun part, aka the journey haha).
Keep on plotting!
Bisou
The photo booth pics are the best!