By: Alva Ree
1. Your career spans writing, education, and storytelling. What is the deeper mission that guides your work?
I am guided by three core values: literacy education, social justice, and disability advocacy. I spent years teaching dyslexic children, and that experience showed me how deeply language shapes opportunity and how we read the world. Literacy is not just about academic skills; it’s about agency, autonomy, and the ability to participate fully in society.
I feel a responsibility to examine systems of inequalities and empower those who are different and vulnerable. My hope is that through storytelling, I can contribute to conversations that deepen empathy and spark original thoughts.
2. With more than 15 years of experience in the educator sector, how has your work as a K-12 dyslexia specialist impacted your perspective?
Children are extraordinary gifts. I learned more from them than they have learned from me. I taught them the alphabet. In return, they trained my eyes to see the world through a different lens. Everyone has great potential that lives beneath the surface; they’re just waiting for someone to recognize them and believe in them.
3. New York has long been a home for writers and artists. Do you feel connected to that tradition?
My family immigrated to Manhattan in the mid-1800s as blue-collar Irish Americans. Some of my ancestors served in the FDNY when the job meant riding horseback through the streets of the city. New York has been part of my family’s story for generations, long before I ever chose to live here myself.
I was raised in Rutherford, New Jersey, just across the river, close enough to feel the city’s presence and illumination from light pollution. New York has a way of pulling certain people in with gravity.
4. How does New York influence your voice as a writer?
Millions of people come here with big dreams, and they all leave small pieces of themselves behind. That energy lingers, making the city vibrant and electric. I live for the intensity. I write in my head around the clock as I wander through the grid.
5. Many writers draw from personal experience when creating their work. How do you decide what parts of your life belong on the page and what remains private?
My writing is born from personal experience. I’m intentional about how much I share. Most of it is kept private. I wrote a memoir that explores my life as a mixed-race woman living with a mood disorder, a survivor of sexual violence, and an essential worker in New York City during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Composing the manuscript was therapeutic because it offered a space for reflection and self-understanding. I turned inward and looked at my life with honesty and care. For now, it belongs to me. Maybe in decades it will be found on a shelf.
6. What genres and forms do you like to write?
A wide range. I enjoy free form, lyrical verse, and more. I experiment within structure with poetry forms like sonnets and sijos. I write expository pieces, portraits, and vignettes. Lately, I’ve been learning about scriptwriting. I’m less intrigued by being limited by genre and more interested in leveraging mediums that best serve the story that wants to be told.
7. What compositional projects are you currently working on?
At the moment, my creative work moves across several forms. I’m revising a screenplay based on my memoir, which has been an interesting process of fictionalizing and translating deeply personal material into a visual narrative. Journaling remains one of my most consistent habits; it’s a private lab. I’m also building the tech platform Bookmark NYC (bookmarknyc.com). It’s a project that celebrates New York’s independent bookstores.
8. What do you hope your writing contributes to readers and to the cultural conversations happening today?
Waves washing away footprints in the sand don’t erase the memory of them. I want creators to make their honest mark on paper and digital pages, to move and inspire others. Stories connect and help us relate to one another.
