Prodigy is, at its essence, adaptability and persistent, positive obsession. Without persistence, what remains is an enthusiasm of the moment. Without adaptability, what remains may be channeled into destructive fanaticism. Without positive obsession, there is nothing at all.”
Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Sower

My first real connection to theatre came when my mom took me to see The Color Purple on Broadway. We went because we were rooting hard for Fantasia since her American Idol days, but I left completely mesmerized. Still, since I wasn’t a singer, I assumed the theatre world wasn’t meant for me. My one-liner in a summer theatre camp production, which I promptly forgot come performance day, didn’t exactly inspire confidence in my parents either.

I spent the rest of my childhood on the tennis court or lost in books, writing poetry and fairytales in spiral notebooks.

Image of 6 year old Valicia Carmen attending the original Broadway production of The Color Purple
Image of 6 year old Valicia Carmen attending the original Broadway production of The Color Purple
Image of 6 year old Valicia Carmen attending the original Broadway production of The Color Purple
Image of 6 year old Valicia Carmen attending the original Broadway production of The Color Purple
Image of Valicia Carmen at about 8 years old, on a tennis court in Brooklyn, NY
Image of Valicia Carmen at about 8 years old, on a tennis court in Brooklyn, NY

Until recently, I worked professionally under the name Valicia Browne. But in 2024, I chose to honor my grandmother in a more permanent way. A Leo with a heart of gold, Carmen was the embodiment of kindness, empathy, and love. Renaming my stage name to be Valicia Carmen is my way of carrying her spirit into every room I enter and every story I tell.

Like many immigrant families, mine had big dreams for me. They didn’t necessarily want me to be a doctor, lawyer, or engineer. No, my family really wanted me to be a Grand Slam tennis champion. I trained seriously, competed regularly, and at the very least, had some fabulous outfits.

About Me

Hi there! I’m Valicia Carmen (Vah LEE sha)

I was born and raised in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. I'm a proud first-generation Caribbean American, shaped by the grace, warmth, and fierce resilience of my grandmother, Carmen Lewis Cameron. She immigrated from Guyana (not to be confused with Ghana) in the 1970s, and without her, I wouldn't be who I am today.

I went on to Vanderbilt University as a pre-med biochemistry major, focused on becoming a doctor. Then the pandemic hit. Being sent home midway through made me realize just how fleeting life can be, and I realized I didn’t want to spend the rest of it in labs. It was there I enrolled in Acting I with Dr. Ibby Cizmar. That class introduced me to Meisner, sense memory, and Ernie McClintock’s Jazz Acting, and I was never the same. I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in years.

What started as a curiosity became a calling. I took more acting classes, then playwriting, screenwriting, directing, lighting design. I had the opportunity to work with the incomporable David Caparelliotis for a year as a casting intern for season 4 of New Amsterdam. I was also an intern within NBC's Unscripted production department, noting cuts of your favorite Bravo shows and scheduling meetings for high-level NBC executives. Eventually, I graduated with a double major in Theatre and Medicine, Health, and Society and graviatated towards acting, writing, and casting (I'll always have a love for reality tv as well!)

As a senior at Vandy, I had the opportunity played Ama in School Girls; Or, The African Mean Girls Play at Nashville Repertory Theatre, where I even opened Act 3 singing “Greatest Love of All.”

Nashville Rep School Girls;Or, The African Mean Girls playNashville Rep School Girls;Or, The African Mean Girls play

Now I’m back in New York, passionate about the intersection of storytelling and public health. I'm driven by the belief that theatre can not only entertain but also heal people and transform communities.

Above all, I hope to tell stories that hold people the way my grandmother did, with tenderness, truth, and the quiet reminder that love, when shared freely, never really leaves us.