These Little Boys: On Life and Death and Race

This past Saturday a 13 year boy became a Bar Mitzvah, an occasion marked by the gathering of his family members and cherished friends, from camp, preschool, Sunday school, and junior high. Dressed in their finest, guests ate well and danced to everything from that old classic "Shout" to "YMCA" and the latest hits by Nicki Minaj. There were ice cream dessert bars for adults and kids alike, and amped up versions of childhood games like musical chairs and Coke and Pepsi. There were glow sticks, blinking plastic novelty rings, and plenty of smiles and laughter, all celebrating the greatest accomplishment, so far, in a boy's life. Maybe this doesn't mean anything to you, this religious ceremony that welcomes teenage Jewish boys into assuming responsibility for their actions and for their Jewish faith. But for these boys, and the girls who become Bat Mitzvahs, these occasions will help to prepare the ground for their future accomplishments as adults. 

I am not Jewish, but as a photographer, present for these important life events, I have often wondered about the lives of these little boys compared to the lives of my three African-American nephews and their friends of color.  Two of my nephews, ages 14 and 12 and attending struggling public schools, are already experiencing the frustrations of being left behind academically. And we're trying, my family and I, we're trying and praying with all of our might to right this ship, to protect these boys in their boyhood and, yet, prepare them for an adult world that is forced on them all too soon. Try as we do to give them ice cream filled Saturdays, and happy family times, on a night like this, I feel powerless, but not hopeless. My nephews, these 3 little boys, are my little boys, and your little boys. So for tonight, before I feel discouraged, I'm going to look at a photo of my little boys, and I'll keep on, we'll keep on, loving you and protecting you, and all of these little boys.

My beautiful three nephews

Lena Dunham Needs a Hug

Since I'm much too lazy to join the Netflix cult, my down times usually involve a marathon viewing session of whatever's on cable, which often means reruns of Sex & The City. And while I loved this show so much in my twenties when the episodes first aired, now, in my 40s and married for almost 13 years, I can honestly call out Carrie & Company for being drama-seeking jerks. You make yourself available sexually for a man who refuses to commit to you? Guess what? You've lost the right to be angry at him. You want to agonize over every little detail of your boyfriend, then guess what? You're definitely going to find something wrong with him. At a certain point you have to wonder if the original working title for Sex & The City was I Love Drama! 

So why bash a show that's been dead and buried for a decade? Because in the wake of Carrie Bradshaw, another over-sharing young woman hitting the sheets and the streets of NYC has emerged and is in the process of enraging, or engaging depending on your point of view, a new generation of viewers. Her name is Lena Dunham - and if simply seeing her name in print here is making you see red, then you've heard of her, and you might also hate her. People have been trash-talking Miss Lena for the past few years as her HBO series, Girls has become the media's poster child for the privileged, majority white, millennials who currently hold the title for Most Vilified. Poor Lena! Sure, she undresses, a lot, on her show, and in a way that can make viewers squeamish, but it's her body and it's her thing. I don't think she does it to titillate, in fact the act is more like that of a toddler innocently shedding their clothes and streaking through the house, you know, because toddlers are craycray that way. 

Lena's latest controversy is unfolding now while she's on tour promoting her book, "Not That Kind of Girl." One passage, in particular, has set off red flags as it seems to describe an act of pedophilia possibly performed by Miss Lena on her baby sister. Reading the passage, I wondered several things, including: did this really happen, where were their parents, why write about this, and WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS GIRL?  Seriously, what's wrong with this child? As it happens, I wasn't the only one curious about her motivation - both to do this miserable thing and to write about it. A Twitter war was declared, leading Miss Lena to take a break from her book tour and her nearly 2 million Twitter followers. 

It's the oddest thing, until you realize that this child grew up in the afterglow of Sex & The City and in the emergence of reality TV and celebrity culture. Somehow, Miss Lena, became confused. Look, I never, ever thought that Sarah Jessica Parker the actress was the character Carrie Bradshaw, but clearly, the fashion designers and stylists working with the actress encouraged her to embody the Carrie mystique every time she graced a red carpet. Soon, Sarah Jessica Parker BECAME Carrie, I mean she even has her own trendy shoe line, something that's so Carrie! So is Lena Dunham really her Girls character, Hannah Horvath? Or is Hannah actually Lena hiding in plain sight? Who knows, who will ever know? At some point, though, who will care? Let's not disparage Miss Lena, instead, hug her because, like those who've gone before her on those NYC streets, her genius and promise will air on a basic cable channel on a weekday afternoon.

On Race: Coming to Terms with My Kelsey Problem

Hi, my name is Kelsey! We haven't met, yet, or maybe we have. Maybe you've seen me at Starbucks ahead of you and ordering three skinny pumpkin spice lattes and two iced mocha decafs while pulling my wet hair into a messy low-pony on that day you were running late for your 8:00am conference call. Sorry about that, but I had to grab some caffeine courage for my office biotches, you know! Hey, and super sorry about the maj coffee spillage that happened when my friend texted me about her bangs emergency and I attempted to hold my iPhone to read the text and then tried to reply to the text while balancing those two coffee trays. I felt to Lena Dunham that day, you know? Oh, you don't know! Really?? She's on "Girls" on HBO! I can't believe you haven't seen it!! Well, gotta run - BYYYYYYYEEEEE!

OK, that never happened. This was a fictional conversation between a fictional character named "Kelsey" and, an unwitting player in her life's drama, a fictional character that I'll call "Shandra." It's kind've funny, but, like a "Law & Order" episode, this scene was ripped from the headlines of my life, and, perhaps the lives of others. My fictional "Kelsey" is based on the flesh and blood Kelseys I meet everyday. She is buoyant, forever smiling, chirpy, and full of pluck. She is well-coiffed, though she spends countless hours with her hands in her hair - whether pulling it back with the elastic band that she always wears on her wrist, tucking it behind her ear, or maniacally running her fingers through it and furiously scooping it all to one side or the other or straight back if she really wants to get nuts. Her nails are always buffed and polished, and when they're not, she calls attention to the fact and tells a ripping yarn about why they're not done that usually involves a weird weekend DIY project with her roommates or baking brownies. Yes, brownies - Kelseys love to bake brownies and eat brownies, though not too many. And when they are seen eating their homemade confections, the Kelsey will, undoubtedly, call attention to how massive her gut/butt is, though she's usually south of a US size 8. 

Are you rolling your eyes yet? Or, are you nodding in agreement? Maybe you're doing both, like me!

Kelseys in the workplace are especially difficult to navigate. They are hardcore people-pleasers. Need someone to manage the office birthday party celebrations? Kelsey's there, with her well worn Rachel Ray cookbook and its perfect birthday brownie recipe! Need someone to work late every night for a year without asking for overtime, a raise, or a promotion? Kesley will do it, and she'll do it with a smile. She'll even come in on weekends, wearing her favorite Ann Taylor jewel tone cardi, skinny jeans, ballet flat, and plain white JCrew t-shirt, along with her faux, oversized pearl stud earrings. And don't worry, she'll stop by Starbucks on her way in for coffees for the whole team. I mean, they have to have something decent to drink with the 4 dozen brownies she managed to bake in the hours between working until 10pm on Friday night and arriving at 9am on Saturday morning. 

Kelseys function best in groups where they can stand out, although they hate to call attention to themselves. After work, packs of Kelseys (or is it gaggles, or a murder, no, that's crows) go to the nearest watering hole where they drink shots and call their fellow Kelseys "biotches" at the top of their lungs while precariously balancing an overflowing pilsner glass as they navigate through the throngs of other Kelseys looking to get their drink on! Oh, and here's another note, Kelseys always like to get something "on" - get my laundry on, get my drink on, get my tan on, get my party on - maybe it's because a Kelsey is always "on", which is why after stopping at the bar, the Kelsey then heads to the gym for SoulCycle or some sort of fitness bootcamp. Kelseys like the camaraderie of group classes or team sports, although she'll run a half-marathon for a cause, so for all you trying desperately to recruit for the company kickball team look no further than the Kelsey in your own backyard.

So, what's my beef with the Kelseys? I guess I have to go back to my childhood and my first Kelsey. At the start of second grade, the parents made my sister and I switch to a school closer to home, which meant goodbye to the 35-minute morning commute and hello to a school down the street from us. The change of venue, though, also meant goodbye to the black teachers and classmates I'd grown to love and hello to a predominately white elementary school. All at once, I was a little, fat black girl with unreasonable hair (read: nappy), a shiny face (Grandma liked to Spackle Vaseline on my face EVERY morning), a strange smile (a gap between my front teeth which I proudly display now), and no fashion sense (c'mon, I was a fat kid in the 1970s!). And there were the Kelseys - with their cool Barbie dolls, strawberry lip gloss, perfect penmanship (complete with hearts over their "i"s), and Hello Kitty pencil cases. In the presence of the Kelseys, I felt lacking.

By undergrad, I knew how to deal in the Kelsey-rich environment of my small, southern, nearly 100% white college and I seemed to thrive. But, I could see some cracks beginning to form and the Kelsey-tolerance I thought I'd built up was starting to wane. The Kelseys were the ones going on dates, getting boyfriends and fraternity pins and engagement rings from the white boys on my campus. And me - well, when I wasn't being overlooked or mistaken for one of the dining hall or cleaning staff, I was the friend or the one those white boys wanted to take to bed, but not wed. I felt shame and anger,

After school, though, I learned that I was not alone. That there were others of us who've suffered the Kelsey Curse of feeling less than. In my first job after grad school, I tried to out-Kelsey the Kelseys, striving for perky and upbeat and positive. My white supervisors applauded me, but the black women in my office were divided with some giving me a lot of side-eye and others loving my can-do attitude, and hoping that we finally had a contender to fight the Kelsey scourge!! I was doing alright, and soon, I left for my dream job in radio, but, in a stunning twist, I found that what my new boss wanted me to BE a Kelsey. You see, somewhere I'd become confused, and had taken so much Kelsey into my bloodstream that people thought that I was a Kelsey. But, I'm not, and that's when I began to understand that my Kelsey problem was defining my life. I remember, at that time, going to a vocal coach who said that everyone who hosts their own radio or TV show has to find their voice - who they are, their point of view - and communicate that over the airwaves. It sounded so simple, unless you don't know who you are, and I didn't have a clue. 

I had only defined myself in relation to the Kelseys of the world, and now I am able to see that I am more than I thought. All of the shame and the anger and the longing to belong had become tiresome. I hate thinking about all of the time I lost in the clutches of the Kelsey haze, and even though I have some minor twinges, like when I'm watching "Top Chef" or "Food Network Star" and see another black woman contestant knocked off of her game by some fresh-faced Kelsey, I'm aware of how good life is. Not perfect, but so very good. Too good to be consumed with the cult of Kelsey. So play with your hair, drink your pumpkin-spice beverage, bake your brownies, Zumba your little heart out - I'm over it, Kelsey! 

A Reality TV Vocabulary Primer

Well, the Fall 2014 television season has begun, which means lots of new shows vying for our attention. Among these shows are new reality TV shows, and while the premises for these shows may have upped the OMG-quotient ("Dating Naked" comes to mind), they all include a very basic vocabulary that lets you, the viewer, know that yes, you have stumbled onto a reality show. So, for those of you who took a break over the summer from reality TV, or those of you who are (shocking!) reality TV virgins, here is the quick and dirty, definitive reality TV vocab primer - also known as Reality TV as a Second Language.

Castmate:  
This is reality TV's name for a friend or a frenemy who appears in your same reality TV universe.

Crazypants:
Used as an adjective or as a noun to describe a castmate or a castmate's activities which are particularly irksome, illegal, or that could potentially cause a danger to other castmates. Used in a sentence: Kim went all crazypants shotgunning quarts of milk at Phaedra's Black Cleopatra Costume Party.

Disrespect:
Often used as a verb (NeNe disrespected Phaedra by not inviting her to her Superhero Drag Party) to describe actions by castmates that hurt the feelings of other castmates.

Drama:
The consequences from the thoughtless actions of a crazypants castmate. Drama can be caused by anyone at anytime and should be avoided AT ALL COSTS. One's ability to avoid drama is viewed as a virtue by other castmates.

Epic: 
Not to be confused with the epic "Beowulf" that you read in high school, this use of the term "epic" can describe a plethora of activities or items. An example: Reza's Cold Mountain theme party was epic. Or this: Reza drank an epic amount of espressos.

Girls:
Used most frequently by female castmates to describe other female castmates who may no longer technically qualify for the "girl" designation. An example: This group of girls have so much drama.


Got your back:
Used as a term of endearment for one, or more, of one's castmates who consistently demonstrate loyalty. An example: I thought Tamra had my back, by I was wrong.

Loving someone to death:
A turn of phrase used by castmates to describe their love of a fellow castmate, usually declared when the castmates are inebriated on a party bus or on one of the many forced group vacations castmates must go on with cameras rolling. Usually ending with a sloppy, weird hug.

Team [Insert Name]:
Groups of girls typically subdivide into teams when drama has arisen in the group. The team name denotes the principle parties involved in the altercation. An example: In the matter of Jill vs. Bethanny, I'm Team Jill. 

That just happened:
Often, reality TV castmates must take on the role of narrator for their filmed realities in soliloquies spoken to their camera confessionals. In order, then, to express surprise/outrage/horror, they have developed a verbal shorthand, the phrase, "that just happened", though, spoken with a dramatic pause BETWEEN. EACH. WORD. 

Throwing anyone under the bus:
The term, used to describe an act of betrayal, is in the Top Ten Reality TV Vocabulary Pantheon! And there seems to be no shortage of buses in the reality TV universe as castmates throw each other under buses weekly, and, sometimes, multiple times within one episode. It defies the laws of physics as some of these castmates do not appear to possess the requisite physical strength it would take to toss someone underneath a bus. 

Throwing up a little in your mouth:
This turn of phrase, used to describe a person or situation so vile that it elicits nausea and vomiting, is a staple of reality TV. It seems to have its roots in the Valley Girl speak of the 1980s and that era's popular phrase, "gag me with a spoon." 

Fashion, Feminism and Ferguson - Is Everything Old New Again?

On a recent visit to Urban Outfitters, I felt like I was on a walk down memory lane, the 90's Grunge Edition. There, in red plaid flannel shirts, Doc Martens boots, Nirvana t-shirts, and oversized, tattered sweaters were my college-aged self, only repackaged for children born in the 90's. I literally had clothing in my closet older than these children! It's a bit jarring, but I guess that everything old IS new again.

Nostalgia isn't always bad, but it's not always good. For instance, this past week, sexism was back on display and in our living rooms with the Ode d'booty on display at MTV's Video Music Awards (VMAs) where Nicki Minaj and a troop of strip club trained back up dancers dry-humped the stage whilst showing off their...assets? Not to be outdone, even Beyonce, with her young daughter in the front row, sang surrounded by a dozen female dancers lying on their backs, with their legs thrust into the air and spread eagle followed by synchronized pelvic thrusting, like some sort of XXX version of a Busby Berkeley musical. And while Beyonce is often referred to as an empowering female, to be admired for her body of work as well as her physical body, no matter how many times her stage set spells out "Feminist" in 20 foot neon letters, her placement as a feminist icon is difficult to digest when she never seems to be wearing pants! In fact, there were lots of pants-less strong women honored at the VMAs, with Taylor Swift, all seven feet of her, walked the red carpet in something that looked like a romper you'd put on your one-year-old. Jessie J. also got the "no pants" memo, leaving Ariana Grande with her high ponytail and knee-high sequined gogo boots looking like Margaret Thatcher compared to the other ladies. What happened, MTV? You wanted another Miley/Robin Thicke moment so desperately that you decided to turn the stage into a strip club? But, let's be real, music videos are about the shock value. The number of YouTube views and they hype, which means skin (female, primarily). Video directors, in league with music labels, want buzz so that means giving the people what they want, or telling them what they want. And it's obvious that they don't want feminism.

Not to be outdone, the 66th Primetime Emmy Awards also did their part to take feminism back to the Dark Ages, or at least back to the time of Mad Men, when the president of the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences had Emmy Award-winning actress, Sofia Vergara, basically shut her mouth and stand up on a rotating platform, looking pretty whilst he tended to the manly task of explaining stuff using big words that pretty, dumb ladies can't possibly understand!

Still feeling nostalgic for days gone by, well then let's take a trip to Ferguson, Missouri where an over-policed, majority-black, community is still reeling from the violent shooting death of an unarmed black teenager by a while police officer. Those protesting the killing of Michael Brown took their cause to the streets of Ferguson where they were met by police in military gear complete with assault rifles, hurling teargas at American taxpayers who were exercising their First Amendment right to assemble. It all felt so 1960s that I could hear Martha and the Vandellas singing "Dancing in the Streets"! When the local police are more occupying force with an inability to distinguish between the good people who love their community and the looters who seek to destroy that community, then something's got to change before another black family loses another black son.  

But can things ever truly change? Can the community of Ferguson and the police learn to trust each other? Can women learn to rely on our talents and not our tookus to get noticed? I wish I knew the answers to these questions, but for now, I only know that I have a pair of steel-toed Doc Marten boots to dust off and I'm wondering if they'll go with my Calvin Klein jacket - I'm all for nostalgia but there's no need to go overboard!

The Freshman's Guide to College Life: The Daddy Issues Edition

By now, your Facebook newsfeed is brimming with photos from proud parents of their smiling, happy children packing up and moving into their college freshmen dorms. And while my freshman year is many years behind me, I still remember that odd mixture of fear and excitement, of wariness in leaving my childhood home and my mother's arms and the joy of having a space of my own in a world about which my parents knew nothing. 

But, the only person who knew less than my parents was me, and so I want to talk directly to you, college freshman. While you may have impressive technological sophistication, and while you may think that you know everything (or, a bit more than your parents), everyone has a blind spot, especially the average college freshman, and, more specifically, a freshman woman with daddy issues. Maybe your parents had a bad marriage, maybe your father was emotionally withholding, mentally abusive, or simply not around. Maybe your daddy loves his second family better, or maybe he loves his job better. It doesn't matter, because young lady, you're arriving on campus on a mission, and that mission is to be loved AT ANY COST!! If you are this woman, or if you know this woman, here are simple tips to get you safely started at college and safely out the other side.

DATING
There's nothing wrong with dating, but if you've got daddy issues you should avoid the urge to merge at least during the first half of your freshman year. Why? You'll want to focus all of your attention on your new love, even if it interferes with your studies and with your ability to make and develop friendships. Soon you'll be scheduling your meals, laundry, and classes around your 'boo as your insecurities lead you to believe that any time apart means an imminent break-up. You'll sport his fraternity sweatshirt in the dining hall and be his own personal cheerleader during intramural basketball games. Slow down, girl! Get to know yourself and enjoy your independence. And when you do start dating on campus, don't date someone who lives in your dorm as you might be too tempted to casually "bump into" them in a manner that law enforcement calls "stalking." Remember, smothering your boyfriend doesn't make your daddy love you.

BEWARE THE MALE PROFESSOR TRAP
Yep, he's an authority figure, and, sure, he looks devastating in front of the chalk board in your freshmen English seminar class, but he's too old for you and, oh, and he's your professor. It's tempting, though, to seek out the affections of an older man, a man who might be old enough to the father who didn't love you enough/at all, but he's not interested, so stop before you make a fool of yourself. So don't wear that low-cut, semi-sheer tank top to his class. Don't lean seductively over his desk in said top to ask him a burning question you have about "Beowulf" before that class starts. And don't go to his office during office hours in that tank top to get his profound thoughts on Olde English vs. modern English. At best, he'll laugh at you and send you on your way, at worst, he'll hook up with you and now both of your academic careers are in jeopardy. So, keep things professional, and maybe check and see if a female professor teaches that same class. And if that female professor has a male teaching assistant, then re-read this paragraph from the top. Remember, seducing a male authority figure doesn't make your daddy love you.

DRINKING
This is a particularly dicey subject. Unless you're at a dry campus, most socializing on a typical college campus involves a red Solo cup and a keg. I'm not naive enough to tell you to "just say no" and harp on the countless stories on binge-drinking and excessive partying on college campuses, it's just that I never really figured out why the drinking culture was so pervasive on campus. Most college kids don't get drunk because they like the taste of beer and liquor (although, Moscato wine is like liquid candy), do they? From what I've seen, it seems as if they get drunk so they can tell tall tales of their tipsy shenanigans. It's like their intoxication becomes the cover for bad behavior, and for a girl with daddy issues, booze becomes a part of her male-attention seeking arsenal. Look at me, I just pounded 8 beers in a row! Look at me, I just downed 4 vodka shots!! Look at me, I just hooked up with 3 random dudes but I'm too drunk to remember their names!!! Don't be that girl. Listen, the boys who cheered you on while you downed a fifth of rum are not your friends. If they were, they wouldn't let you do something that could cause you injury or death. And their attention doesn't make your daddy love you.

Summer Hummer 3: How the Washington, DC Theatre Scene Takes Care of Its Own

Life often brings unexpected circumstances, and for theatre professionals, who often work without the benefit of health insurance, those circumstances can jeopardize their physical and financial health. Enter: theatreWashington and their Taking Care of Our Own (TCOOO) initiative, a fund financed by the generous donations of theatre patrons and the theatre community at large. Donations to TCOOO are made throughout the year, but the signature event that raises the most donations to the fund in a single evening is The Summer Hummer, a DC version of Broadway Bares, with local DC theatre scenesters bumping and grinding for a great cause. This year's Summer Hummer, held at Signature Theatre, was the bawdiest ever with crazy costumes, great singing, and cheesecake and beefcake to spare. Here is the PG-13 highlights reel!

Patrick J. Hurston and Signature Theatre Artistic Director Eric Schaeffer at Summer Hummer

theatreWashington President and CEO Linda Levy with Helen Hayes Award winning actor, Matthew DeLorenzo at Summer Hummer

Members of the cast of Studio Theatre's "Rocky Horror" pose with orange-boaed conductor/songwriter Christopher Youstra

Victor Shargai is all smiles at Summer Hummer 3

Joshua Morgan of No Rules Theatre Company and Luigi Filiputti

Those gams belong to none other than actor Ryan Patrick Welsh

Actors Bobby Smith and Erin Gardiner join conductor/composer Christopher Youstra in a squeeze and a giggle at Summer Hummer

Actor Michael Litchfield crowdsurfs for donations at the Summer Hummer

It's a boy dance party at the Summer Hummer