RYLEE WHITE ’21: TO THE WRITERS’ ROOM

Rylee White did not live one Wesleyan season at a time. She lived two. A sociology major with a film studies minor, she played women's basketball and women's lacrosse, balancing practices, travel, and deadlines. Today, she works in Los Angeles as a writer and director, with experience that spans children's audio storytelling, animation production support, and a sketch comedy writers room. The through line is not glamour. It is discipline, teamwork, and staying creative when the schedule is not negotiable, and showing up anyway.

She learned that early, when her calendar was beating her. White remembers her coaches were married to each other, and that lacrosse coach Kim Williams pulled her aside to talk about time management. They looked at the gaps between classes. One class ended at 11. Another started at 2:30. Williams asked what White was doing in between, and White answered, "Lunch," meaning she would go to Usdan and stay the whole block. Williams told her, plainly, that was not time management. The message landed: if you have time, you can use it.

The pressure never really left. White says athletics helped with stress, but big papers and tests still followed her into practice. Creative assignments were different. When she had screenwriting work or a documentary project, her mind drifted toward ideas, not worry, and she would be excited to get back and write. Switching between basketball and lacrosse sharpened her communication, too. Basketball was a smaller roster. Lacrosse was closer to 30. You have to work harder to make a big group feel like one unit, and to trust that the team can flip from goofy to locked in when it matters.

Injuries, though, were the part she could not plan around. White says she tore her ACL three times and had meniscus injuries, which meant living in and out of rehab. That cycle forced a hard truth. She realized she needed a more feasible dream than going pro, and she started looking for another arena where she could pour the same work ethic.

A big step in that direction came when she studied abroad in London and took a screenwriting class for the first time. She loved it, and she says her teacher's praise mattered. She was also exploring other paths then, including nonprofit work connected to sports, before realizing it was not the right fit. She tells a moment that made her choice feel clearer: the day she heard she had landed a nonprofit job, her brother got a callback for The Book of Mormon on Broadway. He was moving toward a life built around what he loved.

People warned her what the path would require. In networking calls, she heard that entertainment is hard and that you are always fighting for the next job. White says that did not scare her. It sounded like sports. Work hard, get told no, show up again, and keep believing you can win the next rep.

The first time the career felt real was also the first time she got paid to write, and it came through Wesleyan. White says a Wes alum, Adam Epstein '97, reached out about starting a children's podcast and needing someone to help write scripted episodes. The pay was modest, but the signal was huge. It also reinforced a Wesleyan muscle she still uses: speaking confidently about ideas even when you are not totally sure they are correct, and being personable enough to build real working relationships.

From there, she built her foundation through support roles that keep her close to the work. At Titmouse, she worked in production, helping coordinators run meetings, take notes, and keep communication clear while artists moved ideas toward finished scenes. Later, she worked as a script coordinator at Annapurna Pictures on Sausage Party: Foodtopia, where coordination and tracking helped protect the creative vision, even when production constraints got loud. White is candid about the tradeoff: in production, your ideas are not the point, your organization is.

Then came the writers room. White became a staff writer at Stoopid Buddy Stoodios on a long-running Adult Swim show. On her first day, she says, everyone opened a laptop and started writing immediately. She leaned over and asked the head writer what they were supposed to be writing. He answered, "Anything." She submitted five sketches and says every one got called out. The process was blunt and useful: sketches went into a shared document, ideas were shuffled so they were anonymous, and the room voted on what stayed.

That athlete mindset also shapes how she works with people. White says teams taught her to read a group, give quieter people space, and help a room move together. She also says she loves feedback. Notes are not personal. They are a chance to get better. She carries that into moments when plans shift late, when you have to absorb information quickly, improvise, and deliver anyway.

For Wesleyan student athletes who want to break into writing, animation, or comedy, White's advice is practical. Make something you can show and get it in front of people who will give notes. Reach out widely, and do not dismiss assistants or interns, because relationships compound. If you want an agency mailroom track, start early and follow up consistently. She also asks students to respect how hard the industry can be, and to decide if they still want the fight.

Her closing lesson is simple. Fill your cup. If writing is what you love, write even when you are not paid. If directing is the dream, make things now. And if your goal changes, that can be healthy. Wesleyan taught her how to function on a packed schedule. Los Angeles is simply the next version of that test.