Play & Book Excerpts
Love Keeps Showing Up
(Shadow Mountain Publishing)
© Adassa
Introduction
The hum of anticipation backstage was electric. My orange-pleated Mac Duggal gown fit me perfectly for the night, the fabric flowing with every step. My curly hair was sculpted, my lashes defied gravity, and every square inch of my face was made-up to red-carpet perfection. Somewhere between nervously pacing and frantically checking my phone’s storage, it hit me—I was about to perform live at the Oscars.
I was surrounded by my castmates—Stephanie Beatriz, Diane Guerrero, Carolina Gaitán, and Mauro Castillo—and we were packed into a dressing room that felt too small for all the talent (and nerves) inside. We hovered around the TV monitor like it held the secrets of the universe. On-screen were Lily James, Naomi Scott, and Halle Bailey—each shimmering like actual Disney royalty. They began to announce the nominees for Best Animated Feature Film.
My palms were sweating. Was my phone recording? I double-checked—yes, it was. The image was shaky, full of movement and anticipation.
“And the Oscar goes to . . .”
We held our breath.
“Encanto!”
Screaming. Hugging. High-pitched squealing. Diane lost it. Stephanie was cheering with her hands in the air. Mauro looked like he’d just won the World Cup. I was jumping so high I nearly lost a heel. Carolina, Stephanie, and I started chanting “¡Colombia!” over and over, our voices cracking with joy and disbelief. We were laughing and vibrating with the kind of happiness that feels like it might lift you straight off the ground.
In that room, love showed up. Not just in the award, but in the way we held each other, screamed with excitement, and celebrated something bigger than ourselves. The message of Encanto—that family, love, and connection are where true magic lives—wasn’t just something we said on-screen. It was something we lived. The film we had all worked on together may have been awarded an Oscar, but the real gift was the love we poured into the story, the love we received from audiences around the world, and the deep, unshakable love we shared as a cast. And that’s what made that moment unforgettable.
With our hearts still pounding, eyes still glossy, we were ushered toward the stage to perform a medley highlighting “We Don’t Talk about Bruno,” the song that shattered Billboard records and became a global sensation. My voice had been featured in the song in the film, but now I was about to sing it live at the Oscars alongside my incredible castmates as well as musical legends Becky G, Megan Thee Stallion, and Luis Fonsi.
Before stepping out onto one of the biggest stages in the world, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, the Oscar win announcement still buzzing in my ears, and thought: “How did I get here?”
Bridges of Transformation and Transition
“I was sitting in the lobby of BMI’s Miami Beach office, waiting for a meeting 64 with the executives. The walls were lined with framed posters and platinum plaques: Juanes, Luis Fonsi, Paulina Rubio, Enrique Iglesias, and so many others. Icons. Legends. Voices that had carried Latin music to the world stage.
I had nothing but respect for them. I’d sung along to their songs, studied their performances, and admired their careers from afar. But as I looked around the lobby, I realized that no one on those walls looked like me.
My skin was darker. My curls weren’t smoothed down for the cameras. My Afro-Latina identity wasn’t a detail tucked into the background; it was front and center. And there I was, pen in hand, about to sign a deal that wasn’t just about music but about visibility.
I didn’t think I was better or bolder than the artists who came before me. On the contrary, I knew I was standing on the shoulders of giants, and I was honored to be able to walk through a door that others had already built and helped open.
Two of the men holding that door were John Echevarría, then president of Universal Music Latino, and his senior vice president, Walter Kolm. These weren’t just big titles on business cards. These men were shaping the future of Latin music by believing in voices that hadn’t always been centered. John’s leadership created opportunities for artists like me to break through, and Walter had a gift for spotting talent and championing it.
Walter would eventually manage some of the biggest names in Latin music, including Carlos Vives, who—full circle moment—ended up contributing to the music of Encanto. And Maluma, who gave voice to Mariano, the charming love interest of my character, Dolores Madrigal. So the man who helped sign me years earlier ended up managing the animated heartthrob my character fell for on-screen. Life writes some wild scripts, doesn’t it?
But beyond the surreal full-circle moments, I’ll always be grateful to John and Walter for believing in me as a singer and in Gabriel as a producer. They gave us space to bring our sound, our story, and our truth into a room that hadn’t seen many like us. And that kind of belief stays with you.
And as I crossed that threshold into the executives’ offices, I carried with me a quiet promise to keep the door open for the next girl who looked like me, who had been told she didn’t quite fit the mold, who was still waiting for someone to say, ‘You belong here too.’”
Hitting Those High Notes
“And then we got the call: American Idol wanted us to perform “We Don’t Talk about Bruno” during their Disney Night episode. They envisioned us collaborating with the Top 10 contestants, bringing the magic of Encanto to life on their stage. Excitement bubbled up inside me for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
At the time, I was on tour. Almost a year had passed since my paralysis. To think that I’d gone from struggling to walk to stepping onto the American Idol stage felt nothing short of miraculous.
I adjusted my tour schedule to fly in, have one practice, and then prepare for the taping. Despite the whirlwind, the contestants were all brimming with energy and talent, just as eager as we were to make this performance something truly special.
Sharing the stage with Rhenzy Feliz—who voices Camilo in Encanto—made the performance feel like more than just a show. His charisma lit up the room, and together with the contestants, we brought the magic of the Madrigal family to life in a way that felt real and joyful and full of heart. The energy was electric. People were on their feet, clapping, singing along, completely swept up in the music. It was both a performance and a celebration.”
The hum of anticipation backstage was electric. My orange-pleated Mac Duggal gown fit me perfectly for the night, the fabric flowing with every step. My curly hair was sculpted, my lashes defied gravity, and every square inch of my face was made-up to red-carpet perfection. Somewhere between nervously pacing and frantically checking my phone’s storage, it hit me—I was about to perform live at the Oscars.
I was surrounded by my castmates—Stephanie Beatriz, Diane Guerrero, Carolina Gaitán, and Mauro Castillo—and we were packed into a dressing room that felt too small for all the talent (and nerves) inside. We hovered around the TV monitor like it held the secrets of the universe. On-screen were Lily James, Naomi Scott, and Halle Bailey—each shimmering like actual Disney royalty. They began to announce the nominees for Best Animated Feature Film.
My palms were sweating. Was my phone recording? I double-checked—yes, it was. The image was shaky, full of movement and anticipation.
“And the Oscar goes to . . .”
We held our breath.
“Encanto!”
Screaming. Hugging. High-pitched squealing. Diane lost it. Stephanie was cheering with her hands in the air. Mauro looked like he’d just won the World Cup. I was jumping so high I nearly lost a heel. Carolina, Stephanie, and I started chanting “¡Colombia!” over and over, our voices cracking with joy and disbelief. We were laughing and vibrating with the kind of happiness that feels like it might lift you straight off the ground.
In that room, love showed up. Not just in the award, but in the way we held each other, screamed with excitement, and celebrated something bigger than ourselves. The message of Encanto—that family, love, and connection are where true magic lives—wasn’t just something we said on-screen. It was something we lived. The film we had all worked on together may have been awarded an Oscar, but the real gift was the love we poured into the story, the love we received from audiences around the world, and the deep, unshakable love we shared as a cast. And that’s what made that moment unforgettable.
With our hearts still pounding, eyes still glossy, we were ushered toward the stage to perform a medley highlighting “We Don’t Talk about Bruno,” the song that shattered Billboard records and became a global sensation. My voice had been featured in the song in the film, but now I was about to sing it live at the Oscars alongside my incredible castmates as well as musical legends Becky G, Megan Thee Stallion, and Luis Fonsi.
Before stepping out onto one of the biggest stages in the world, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, the Oscar win announcement still buzzing in my ears, and thought: “How did I get here?”
Bridges of Transformation and Transition
“I was sitting in the lobby of BMI’s Miami Beach office, waiting for a meeting 64 with the executives. The walls were lined with framed posters and platinum plaques: Juanes, Luis Fonsi, Paulina Rubio, Enrique Iglesias, and so many others. Icons. Legends. Voices that had carried Latin music to the world stage.
I had nothing but respect for them. I’d sung along to their songs, studied their performances, and admired their careers from afar. But as I looked around the lobby, I realized that no one on those walls looked like me.
My skin was darker. My curls weren’t smoothed down for the cameras. My Afro-Latina identity wasn’t a detail tucked into the background; it was front and center. And there I was, pen in hand, about to sign a deal that wasn’t just about music but about visibility.
I didn’t think I was better or bolder than the artists who came before me. On the contrary, I knew I was standing on the shoulders of giants, and I was honored to be able to walk through a door that others had already built and helped open.
Two of the men holding that door were John Echevarría, then president of Universal Music Latino, and his senior vice president, Walter Kolm. These weren’t just big titles on business cards. These men were shaping the future of Latin music by believing in voices that hadn’t always been centered. John’s leadership created opportunities for artists like me to break through, and Walter had a gift for spotting talent and championing it.
Walter would eventually manage some of the biggest names in Latin music, including Carlos Vives, who—full circle moment—ended up contributing to the music of Encanto. And Maluma, who gave voice to Mariano, the charming love interest of my character, Dolores Madrigal. So the man who helped sign me years earlier ended up managing the animated heartthrob my character fell for on-screen. Life writes some wild scripts, doesn’t it?
But beyond the surreal full-circle moments, I’ll always be grateful to John and Walter for believing in me as a singer and in Gabriel as a producer. They gave us space to bring our sound, our story, and our truth into a room that hadn’t seen many like us. And that kind of belief stays with you.
And as I crossed that threshold into the executives’ offices, I carried with me a quiet promise to keep the door open for the next girl who looked like me, who had been told she didn’t quite fit the mold, who was still waiting for someone to say, ‘You belong here too.’”
Hitting Those High Notes
“And then we got the call: American Idol wanted us to perform “We Don’t Talk about Bruno” during their Disney Night episode. They envisioned us collaborating with the Top 10 contestants, bringing the magic of Encanto to life on their stage. Excitement bubbled up inside me for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
At the time, I was on tour. Almost a year had passed since my paralysis. To think that I’d gone from struggling to walk to stepping onto the American Idol stage felt nothing short of miraculous.
I adjusted my tour schedule to fly in, have one practice, and then prepare for the taping. Despite the whirlwind, the contestants were all brimming with energy and talent, just as eager as we were to make this performance something truly special.
Sharing the stage with Rhenzy Feliz—who voices Camilo in Encanto—made the performance feel like more than just a show. His charisma lit up the room, and together with the contestants, we brought the magic of the Madrigal family to life in a way that felt real and joyful and full of heart. The energy was electric. People were on their feet, clapping, singing along, completely swept up in the music. It was both a performance and a celebration.”
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Adassa plays Dolores in Disney’s blockbuster hit Encanto and is featured on Billboard’s chart-topping song “We Don’t Talk About Bruno.” As a bilingual Afro-Latino voice actress, singer, and songwriter, Adassa’s work spans from animation to arena performances at Madison Square Garden. Adassa first emerged as a talent in McDonald’s national “Me Encanta” campaign and later landed commercial roles with other national brands, including Toyota and Proctor and Gamble’s Secret.
Adassa’s dynamic four-octave vocal range and artistry have resulted in features and performances on songs with Pitbull, Flo Rida, Snoop Dogg, Daddy Yankee, Ciara, Missy Elliott, and Luis Fonsi, among others. In addition to Adassa’s vocal prowess, she is a sought-after lyricist having written for the catalogs of Warner, Universal, and SONY. Adassa is married to Gabriel Candiani. They have seven children together. |
Adassa
Photo Credit: Gabriel Candiani |
