Read Carlos Lerma's Entire TEDx Talk Speech

If you want to be the star, create the show.

That phrase has guided me since I was a kid — and it’s changed the way I see everything.

You can apply it to anything you want to be in life.

If you want to be the chef, create the restaurant.

If you want to be a lawyer, create the firm.

And so on, and so forth.

All of these roles — the chef, the lawyer, the performer — have one thing in common:

The “star” is useless without the people they’re trying to reach.

A showman entertains nobody if the auditorium is empty.

A chef is useless if the restaurant is empty.

A lawyer is useless if there’s nobody who needs help.

While the phrase “If YOU want to be the star, create the show” might sound like it’s all about you — being center stage and, well… being a star — once you dig deeper, you realize it comes from the desire to be of service to others.

Even if they never see you.

These words — “If you want to be the star, create the show” — come from Anna Akana. She’s one of the

writers and filmmakers who impacted me at a very young age, and honestly, one of the biggest reasons I’m on the brutally cold, yet incredibly rewarding path of film and literature.

I’m a filmmaker, animator, and author.

And my aim with my art — even if it’s just a little grain of salt — is to make the world a bit better, a bit

warmer, by telling stories people my age can relate to. But more on that later.

When my friends ask me, “What would you be doing if you weren’t in film?”

I always answer: a children’s psychiatrist.

Like a lot of artistic kids, I didn’t have many friends growing up. And I went through what I now

understand was bullying.

As a teenager, I decided that when I became an adult, I wanted to help kids like me navigate those negative, diﬃcult emotions that no one really teaches you how to process.

But then I grew older — and realized that medical school was a challenge I wasn’t built for. Still, I wanted to help. I wanted to be of service to the world. Then at age 12 — yes, I was very introspective even back then — I discovered YouTube.

And suddenly, a whole new world of creativity and connection opened up to me.

One night, I fell asleep watching videos and woke up to a short film playing.

That short film hit too close to home.

And I realized… this is a way of helping.

Because for a moment, I felt seen.

I felt understood.

I felt like I wasn’t crazy for feeling the things I was feeling.

And somehow, I felt a little better — all because of someone I didn’t know, who didn’t know me.

Yet there I was, at the edge of happy tears in my bedroom.

That was the moment I decided: I want to make films.

To maybe, just maybe, do for someone else what that film did for me.

I’m impatient to a fault. So, without film school or resources, I started making films in my bedroom with

whatever I could find. Life events now became inspiration for stories — the good, the bad, the weird.

I told the story of how I met one of my best friends — as an exiled monster that nobody wanted to get close to, until a tiny little firefly came into their life and made things brighter.

I kept making my own films — or, my own show, if you will.

And in doing that, I started working through my emotions through art. And that helped others too.

People I didn’t know began messaging me online, saying my work made them feel understood or less alone.

I’ve made films that explore the magic of friendship and family — but also heartbreak, loneliness, and

homesickness.

Homesickness, because I immigrated to the United States from Mexico in September 2022.

It was one of the easiest yet hardest decisions of my life. Because beyond doing what every college student does — writing essays, taking AP classes — international students also have to go through the long, often uncertain process of applying for a visa. Some don’t even make it.

We have to learn an entirely new language. We leave behind our food, our routines, our people, and land in a world that moves diﬀerently. But for me, the trade was worth it.

The potential life I could build — the dream I had — made it worth it.

I’m a big advocate for international students and the challenges we face.

For example:

We can only work on campus, and even those jobs are limited.

The only other option?

Jobs directly tied to our majors — which is a much smaller pool than most people realize.

So as a film major, I can’t go work at a coﬀee shop on the weekend to earn some grocery money.

That would literally put me at risk of deportation.

And as we know — the world is changing.

I’ll share a story with you.

Recently, I landed a paid internship at a major film studio. I’m talking major. I had applied to over 100 places. And finally, in February, I heard back: I got the job. One of the first things I said was, “Just to confirm — you know I’m on an F-1 visa, right?” They said, “Yes! You’re good to go.”

I was elated. I did the onboarding. Signed the paperwork. The job was mine.

Then, just a few weeks ago, I got a call from HR. This man says, “Yeeahhh… I don’t know who told you we hire international students. But we don’t. Sorry.”

Mind you — it was legal for me to work there.

It was aligned with my major.

The issue wasn’t paperwork — it was fear.

They didn’t want to invest time or money in sponsoring me long-term.But I’m not here to complain. I’m here to state the facts.

That, my friends, is life.

You might hear that story and think: “Well, what are you going to do now? If you can’t work in the places you want to, what’s left?”

Well…

Remember what I said at the beginning?

If you want to be the star? Create the show.

Because my life is up to me.

Not my friends. Not my family. Not a company.

If I wait around for the perfect opportunity to fall into my lap — I might be waiting forever.

So I’ve decided to take the time I do have, and use it to make as many films as I can humanly make.

And maybe, just maybe, those films will become my ticket to the life I’ve always imagined.

And honestly — they already have.

They’re the reason I’m speaking to you today.

They’re the reason I believe in the power of doing your own thing.

And not giving up.

Simple ideas.

Harder in practice.

Life would be easy without sacrifices.

But all of us, at some point, have to make diﬃcult decisions in hopes of building something beautiful.

If you want to be the star — and make your own show — then stay with me while I exhaust this metaphor a little further.

You need to build the stage.

Set the lights.

Place all the seats.

Then open the doors.

While I didn’t become a psychiatrist, I do still try to help — through stories.

And maybe, somewhere, there’s a kid like me who’ll stumble across one of my short films in the middle of the night… and feel just a little bit more understood.

That’s what I hope for.

That’s what keeps me going.

Because being the star was never about the spotlight.

It was about building something — a film, a story, a feeling — that gives light to someone else.

So if you want to be the star… create the show.

Create it boldly.

Create it quietly.

Create it for the ones who may never know your name — but will always remember how you made them feel.

Thank you!