rosie-leonard

[rosie-leonard]

Good Fxcking Music & Good Fxcking People

Looking for a way to connect and create with other artists during a pandemic? Tori Husain, NYU sophomore and creator of GFM and OTFU, has everything you’ve been searching for and more. Image of Husain, derived from https://goodfxckingmusic.com 

From her childhood bedroom with olive-green walls and simple yet intricate works of art hanging tastefully by the window, Tori Husain, NYU sophomore and creator of Good Fucking Music and Open the Fuck Up, sits in her now “office” and excitedly works on coordinating her next big project for GFM. Sitting in front of her laptop sporting a messy bun, sweatshirt, and thin-rimmed rose-gold glasses, Husain rushes through another busy day writing emails, creating content for her platform, and organizing Zoom events and meetings, proving life does not stop just because the world did. 

While studying Media Culture and Communications at NYU, Husain noticed a lack of communication and openness within the community. “Me and my friend saw a lot of people were just yelling and canceling each other and not really having conversations,” Husain said. “Even when people tried engaging in conversation, it wasn’t young or approachable or confrontational enough—people just danced around ideas.”

In lieu of her observations, Husain sought to create a platform where people could “Open the Fuck Up,” and talk about things people are afraid to talk about, ranging from white privilege to masturbation.

Prior to NYU, Husain attended Garnet Valley, a predominantly white high school in Glen Mills, Pa. Noting the lack of diversity and means of effective communication, Husain sought to find ways to advocate for racial and social justice by joining clubs and organizations that did just that.

By August of 2019, Husain moved to NYU and was exposed to a new world. “I went to NYU, and all my friends were black, brown, and Hispanic,” Husain said. “Just having friendships and closeness with people that wasn’t even a possibility at Garnet Valley changed my life.”

Husain made a point to emphasize the importance of exposure, as it coincides with a sense of belonging. “Similar to being around people who looked like me was exposure to the LGBTQ community,” Husain said. “Sure, I had gay friends at Garnet Valley, but having structures at the school made for communities, learning about history—it was incredible to see marginalized communities as more dimensional because I would read and talk about it with friends from home, but when an entire class is based on this history and taught by a person who experienced it, and I’m surrounded by people who look like me, I was like, ‘Hooollyyy shit! This changed my life.’”

Husain believes that two different ignorances exist between the suburbs and the city, and such a realization pushed her to try and connect the two worlds. “I’ve lived two realities, and I wanted to build that bridge,” Husain said. “We’re all ignorant; it’s just about having conversations.”

“When I went to New York, I saw this fluidity, sex, and gender, and all the beautiful things I think should be everywhere because I think it’s beautiful, real, and human,” Husain said. “But there was also this sense of unknowing of the other perspective that I lived where they’d be like ‘fuck the people in the suburbs!’ and I’d be like ‘I live in the suburbs, people are cool, they just don’t have the information to put together all the stuff you believe in, or your truth.’”

With the need to spread information and build a community of understanding, Husain and her friends started putting up black and white fliers around New York in February 2020, with the statement, “WHITE PRIVILEGE IS REAL” written in bold letters. Beneath the powerful words was a handle for their Instagram account, @openthefuckup, as well as tear-off tabs reading, in bold print, “AGREED.” This, as phrased on their Instagram account, was the start of a revolution.

After a few days of posting on their Instagram account, @openthefuckup explained to their followers who they were and their intent: experimenting to see how people would react to an abrupt statement and speak openly about white privilege.

Through their Instagram account, OTFU had virtual discussions in comments and DMS to encourage real conversations with opinions from every perspective in which people are not told what to think, but rather encouraged to share their truth.

By March, Husain sought to bring in more people and prove to the community that the organization was legit. By pulling a few strings, Husain managed to host a concert event in Brooklyn, NY, to launch the brand, which went incredibly well and consisted of 160 people, as noted by Husain.

Not a week later, however, all NYU students were sent home, and Husain moved back to Garnet Valley due to the COVID-19 outbreak, putting a halt to her rising platform.

After two weeks, Husain, like many others, was longing for a sense of community. Upon attending a Zoom concert that her friend hosted, Husain had a revelation. “I saw what he did and thought, ‘I wanna do that. It is easy, I don’t have to find a venue or spend money,’” Husain said.

Husain stated that she loves people and, even more, bringing people together, which is why, after attending the Zoom concert, she confidently texted her friend, stating, “Tomorrow. This is what is going to happen. I am going to reach out to all the people I met through the Open the Fuck Up concert and get them together over Zoom to jam out online.”

According to Husain, word spread quickly, and musicians from all over the world came to perform virtually.

“The first concert started at 10:30 p.m. and lasted until 3:30 a.m.,” Husain said. “Then the same thing happened the next time and the time after that. There was so much talent, and the performers were consistently phenomenal, which made me want to start something bigger.”  

With the intent to branch off of these casual Zoom concerts, Husain launched “Good Fucking Music” through her Instagram account with a new goal: to get as many artists as possible to have music as a full-time job.

“We brand ourselves on our product being our community,” Husain said. “No one can replicate community.” According to Husain, a community is what all artists were, and still are, in search of during the pandemic.

“I knew a lot of artists just wanted community, because when you’re a creator, the only way you create is through living—seeing—experiencing,” Husain said. “When you live, creativity comes naturally. But when you’re in quarantine, you’re deprived of living. Your creativity is halted, and you become depressed.”

Through GFM, artists can digitally collaborate and connect with people from all over the world, bringing opportunities and creations that would have never happened if it weren’t for the internet and social media.

“The internet brings people together,” Husain said. “It’s incredible to see people performing even when the space isn’t there.”

Recently, major production companies, such as Revolt, owned by P. Diddy, and producers, such as Sean Michael Field, reached out to GFM and are teaming up with artists, offering free studio time and music video giveaways. According to Husain, these opportunities show how much people believe in GFM and the artists within.

“I haven’t made any money off this,” Husain said. “I’m not here to get rich—that’s not why I made it—I want happy people and to give success to people who deserve it. I just genuinely wanna help artists. That’s it.”

In consideration of Husain’s statement, it is important to note GFM’s motto, as stated by Husain, “At our core, we give a fuck about everything.”

Reminiscing on how successful her life has been in only 19 years, Husain said she learned a lot about what is possible. “I intentionally do things because I have a dream goal,” Husain said. “When that happens, I’m shocked. But it’s what I intended to happen. I’ve realized how many dreams and things can come true right now.”

Husain mentioned that she is always conscious of her position in the world and constantly wondering what she can do to help and make a change.

With GFM consuming her life, Husain noted that OTFU is on pause because it was a lot to manage during the pandemic. Husain mentioned that, although OTFU has halted, people are still granted the opportunity to connect and be real with one another in a safe and chill environment through GFM while sharing a love for music.

Flyer from @goodfxckingmusic

GFM also has masterclasses and mentorship programs (Good Fucking Mentorship), where up and coming artists can connect with more experienced ones. Occasionally, competitions are held and reel in around 200-300 people.

On Saturday, Sept. 26, GFM announced a producer competition judged by Jasper Harris, producer, age 19, and Othello Beats in collaboration with BeatStars. Applications are due Friday, Oct. 9, at noon (EST), and the competition is scheduled for Friday, Oct. 16, 8:30 p.m.-10:30 p.m. EST.

Looking forward, Husain stated that she hopes to have a GFM tour when it is safe to do so. Husain also mentioned that, if NYU does not work out, she is confident GFM music will. “GFM will be my full-time job,” Husain said. “I never want to work for someone else. I want to do whatever I want whenever the fuck I want.”

GFM hosts listening sessions every Friday at 8:30 p.m. EST for anyone who wants to show their music, talk, and make a community, and can be found via their Instagram: @goodfxckingmusic, or website: https://goodfxckingmusic.com

[rosie-leonard]

Published work:

Under-the-table Workers at Risk During Pandemic

One Woman’s Path to Self-acceptance

[rosie-leonard]

About me:

I am Rosie Leonard, a recent graduate from Temple University. I created this blog while working toward my English degree at Delaware County Community College as a final assignment for an intro to Journalism class in spring 2020.

contact: maryrose.leonard22@gmail.com

[rosie-leonard]

Rosie’s Radical Rights

Recently unemployed and struggling to make ends meet during the pandemic? Consider these tips, curtesy of usa.gov’s “Help with Bills” article:  https://www.usa.gov/help-with-bills. Photo created by Rosie Leonard. 

March 2, I was sweeping the restaurant floors of a tea room in Chadds Ford, Pa. after all the customers had left, when I heard the landline ring at the front desk and rushed to answer it.  

“Hello, tea room,” I said.  “How may I help you?”

The woman on the other end said she was calling in regards to a shower she had scheduled for Sunday, March 22, and was wondering if we would still be open.

I politely laughed and informed her that we had no intentions of closing, and the shower would still take place, but I would have my manager talk to her later that week to confirm.

“Why are people so worried,” I thought. “This will all blow over in a few weeks, and everything will be fine.”

My, how two weeks can change a person’s view.

March 15, two weeks after that phone call, I entered work like any other day: I “clocked in,” — which, at my place of work, means saying hello to my boss— traded my coat for an apron, and began serving tables.

The day was fairly busy for it being the first full week of government-issued warnings to stay home, but people did not seem to care. One lady, in particular, proudly proclaimed between raspy coughs that she had a fever just last night, but wouldn’t miss an outing for the world.

Her ignorance enraged me, so I informed my boss that a customer is sick and infecting those surrounding her. She told me there was nothing they could do to make her leave, so I angrily swung open the back door to let in fresh air, put on gloves, and covered my face with a paper towel wad as I took her order.

Sure, I looked ridiculous and over-reacted, but I wanted her to get the message. After leaving with her order, I overheard her mumble, “People are overreacting over this,” and her words only maddened me more.

It is people like you, I thought to myself, that are going to prolong this and kill or endanger others.

As customers filed out, I noticed my boss and manager worriedly speaking to each other at the front desk. Normally, I am included in important and private talks, but not this time, which made me jump to the worst-case scenario.

Shortly after their talk ended, I noticed my boss’s face was a ghastly color as she motioned me toward her. Both she and my manager said that, as of today, the 15, the tea room would be closed for two weeks and reopen on the 30th in accordance with government guidelines.

“I think that is for the best,” I said, not too concerned. “Everything should be back to normal by then. I am sure of it.”

Later, my boss pulled me aside and said that even though the restaurant would be closed, she was going to have me come in and deep clean everything to prepare for when they would reopen.

“How great,” I thought. “I am getting paid to clean for two weeks!”

But, three days later, my boss informed me that, under the circumstances, they could not afford to pay me as well as bills and rent, and, as of that day, I would be out of work and would not be getting paid.

Picture sourced from picserver.org. 

I was only 14 when I applied to work at the tea room as an under-the-table worker, and have maintained that status ever since. It was not until the Covid-19 pandemic, however, that I learned what that term truly means and how it affects my life, as well as countless others in the same situation.

When my boss gave me the news, my heart sank. I knew immediately that they would not reopen in two weeks, and I would most likely be out of a job and a steady income for the forthcoming months. Panic set in but was quickly overcome by anger as I realized my co-workers, who were taxed employees, had the opportunity to apply for unemployment and get paid during this time, but not me.

Despite being their only employee who shows up on time, is always willing to lend a hand and answer the phone, take a reservation, work the register, waitress, bus tables, and clean the floors, I was the only one being deprived of an income necessary to pay bills and school tuition.

March 30 came and went in the blink of an eye, and neither my boss nor manager reached out to talk finances. They must know the toll this is taking on me, as they are aware my employment status prevents me from applying for unemployment without facing serious legal matters.

This summer, I was projected to hold three jobs to earn enough money to pay for my last course at DCCC and obtain my associate’s degree in English, as well as put a down payment for Temple University but, under the current circumstances, I may not be able to achieve either.

Now I cannot go one day without being reminded of the financial burden that hangs so heavily over my shoulders, for, when I log on to my Canvas account, I am coldly greeted by a bright yellow banner that reads: “You have an outstanding balance due. Pay Now.”

The words eat me alive, as I know I cannot afford the $1,300 the school is asking for, and neither can my parents— especially during this time.

Why is a community college so expensive? Didn’t I come here to save money? Because of the coronavirus, instead of saving, I am watching my debt accumulate before my groggy eyes every morning.  

Before the virus wreaked havoc on people and the economy, I was ill-informed of how little rights under-the-table workers have. Although I have enjoyed the simplicity of leaving work with a cash payment in hand for the last seven years, I now loathe the very idea of under-the-table employment.

I plan to seek justice for off-the-record employees whose income has been affected by the current pandemic by creating a virtual petition that advocates for benefits and protected rights for under-the-table and tip-based workers to apply for and receive unemployment. And I hope, in the coming months, schools will re-evaluate the cost of tuition and enforce more feasible and forgiving payment plans.

support or view my petition here: http://chng.it/S9RXvTt8dr 

[rosie-leonard]

Rosie’s Revealing Research

Brianna Boccuti, age 20, joins DCCC journalist student Rosie Leonard over FaceTime to discuss struggles of coming out in close-minded society. Photo by Rosie Leonard.

At age 13, Brianna Boccuti was admitted into Rockford Mental Hospital for attempted suicide linked to early-onset depression. During her stay, Boccuti had a revelation regarding her sexual identity: she liked girls.

“I remember sitting in group therapy with about 30 people,” Boccuti, age 20, said. “Someone had asked, ‘Who in here is straight?’ and me and two others raised our hands, and I thought to myself, huh, that’s interesting.”

Boccuti resided in Rockford for a few weeks until she was no longer a threat to herself. During her stay, she battled with new and confusing feelings she suddenly had for another girl.

After leaving Rockford, Boccuti came out as bisexual to her friends but was quick to assure them she would not look at them sexually or glimpse at them in the locker room, for she feared being seen as perverted.

A year later, Boccuti she realized she was a lesbian, but hesitated coming out because, at the time, only two people at her school were “out.” And those people, as defined by social groups, were “weird” and “different,” according to Boccuti.

“Part of the reason I did not want to come out was because many associate gay with perversion. I was okay with being gay, but I did not want to be called things I wasn’t,” Boccuti said.

Boccuti said she recalled many instances in which she would be walking down the school hallways and hear kids making fun friends, calling each other “gay,” to sound funny or cool. She even referenced times in which her family would say “that’s so gay,” or use the term negatively or in jest.

According to Boccuti, it was hard to say the words “I am gay” because it is often misused; “It felt like an insult to myself,” she said.

Boccuti is part of the one-third of LGBTQ individuals who suppressed their true identity  in fear of societal denouncement, according to Dr. Evan Goldstein, founder and CEO of Bespoke Surgical, a private institution dedicated to the health and well being of the gay community.

According to Goldstein, hearing slurs, harsh words, or offensive phrases directly or indirectly can damage one’s mental and physical state, and lead to low self-esteem, depression, drug usage, or suicide.

A 2012 study released in The Journal of American College Health examined the impact microaggressions such as “that’s so gay” have on gay, lesbian, and bisexuals (GLB) in the school environment. Experts reported that GLB students who are exposed to harsh words often experience hostility from peers and, in turn, are more inclined to hide their sexual identity from friends and family in fear of rejection.

Evidently, the negative and carefree usage of these phrases “dismiss and problematize being gay for others,” according to the study.

In addition, The Human Rights Campaign surveyed 10,000 LGBTQ individuals in 2018 and reported that 42% of individuals live in a community that is not accepting of LGBTQ people, making it difficult for one to come to terms with his/her/their sexuality publicly.

“Sometimes it feels like I need to apologize for being me.”

- Brianna Boccuti

In this current era, it is even more difficult to avoid harassment because social media and the internet exist. According to GLSEN, a teacher founded organization dedicated to promoting LGBTQ inclusion in school environments, 42% of LGBTQ youth have experienced cyberbullying from text messages or online/social media platforms.

According to GSLEN, the internet is a safe space for many LGBTQ individuals to communicate freely with others within the community. Still, their presence online makes them more susceptible to cyberbullying from heterosexuals or predators.  

According to researchers, bullying and remarks stem from people of all ages. Out of 767 students surveyed in a 2019 LGBT Youth Study, 67% reported that family members, specifically parents, often make comments, remarks, or jokes about the LGBTQ community.

Among the same 767 students, around 15% believe that referring to someone as “gay,” fag,” or “queer,” “is no big deal,” researchers say. Heterosexuals are seemingly unaware of the effect microaggressions have on others and do not view them as acts of discrimination, according to the Youth Study.

Many individuals have struggled with deciding how and when to come out and deemed it a difficult process to endure. Statistically, 56% or, most LGBTQ individuals, only come out to one parent, their mother, according to a Pew Research Survey on LGBT Americans.

Those who came out to their mother claimed that it strengthened their relationship, whereas the 39% who came out to their father claimed it did not damage their relationship, according to the survey.

Children are less likely to come out to their fathers because of their stereotypical views of gender expectations and same-sex attractions, experts explained in the article “Coming Out to Dad: Young Gay and Bisexual Men’s Experiences Disclosing Same-Sex Attraction to Their Fathers” published in The American Journal of Men’s Health in 2014.

For these reasons, Boccuti said she struggled to tell her mother she was gay at age 14. “Most people do not know what it is like to come out to your family, how emotionally frustrating it is, how anxious you get,” Boccuti said, which is why she came out to her mother via email:

“I just need you to understand some things… Gay is so commonly used as an insult nowadays,” Boccuti wrote her mother. “I walk through the hallway and hear some kid make fun of his friend, teasing him and calling him gay. Gay is substituted quite often with stupid or something similar. Even you sometimes say, ‘oh, that’s too gay.’ People say ‘if someone calls you gay or any other name, then it is bullying, but if someone called me gay, it would just be the truth. By now, I’ve kind of gotten used to it. I don’t get offended by these things anymore (except dad enrages me sometimes), but I really needed to write you this email.

So, in words, I am gay. I like girls the way I am ‘supposed’ to like boys. Sometimes it feels like I need to apologize for being me. No one really understands me on this….But none of those people really matter, as long as you support me.”

Boccuti’s mother emailed back, saying that she will always love her unconditionally and apologized for the few instances in which she misused the term. “...Don’t ever, ever feel like you have to apologize for being yourself,” Boccuti’s mom wrote. “I love you with all my heart... You are a beautiful person and should hold your head high.”

Boccuti and her mother have a strong bond and are very close to this day, but she never came out to her father because he has expressed his homophobic views over the years, and she does not need his approval, according to Boccuti.

Boccuti eventually gained support from friends and family and became head of the Gay-Straight-Alliance club at her high school. “Because I embraced my gayness, people would seek advice and come out to me before coming out to their friends and family,” Boccuti said. “I was confident, and they trusted me.” 

According to Boccuti, having a GSA club in her school helped many teenagers with the coming out process because they were not alone. She said the club helped to educate and bring awareness to the LGBTQ community.                    

After attending Tyler School of Art and Architecture until spring 2019, Boccuti began working as a full-time barista at Starbucks. She said she enjoys living in Philadelphia because she is surrounded by people who look and dress just like her.

Although Boccuti lives in a city with those of whom she can identify with, she said she is often misgendered because she is a masculine-presenting woman. “People just assume that since I look masculine, I identify as a guy,” Boccuti added. “I learned to embrace it all, though. One time a kid shouted ‘Lesbian!’ in the hallway, and I just turned around and said, ‘What?’”

Gif created by Rosie Leonard on Giphy.com

[rosie-leonard]

Rosie and Rahner: A Day in the Life

Meal trays created by St. Thomas the Apostle, Glen Mills, Pa. parish volunteers who believe one scrap of food can save a life. Photo by Rosie Leonard.

Not a plate goes to waste, thanks to Sarah Rahner, a woman who has spent the last four decades orchestrating and working with nonprofit organizations such as “Caring for Friends” to bring less fortunate out of hunger and isolation.

Rahner, a currently retired and devout catholic, spends her days in the St. Thomas The Apostle church gathering, packing, preparing, and freezing food for the homeless, local families in need, and nonprofit food-drive organizations.

In the 1980s, Rahner and her husband joined St. Thomas and organized a food-drive service for the parish out of their house in Chadds Ford, Pa. What started as a small organization grew to be a well-renowned, volunteer-oriented organization within the parish that is still prospering today.

Most recently, the organization’s horizons have spread to a local film production agency located in Boothwyn, Pa. Each week, Rahner ventures out to the set of future TV show “Mare of Eastwood” to gather food trays the cast and crew did not touch because “there is so much food in this world that goes to waste when, instead, it should be saved and sent to those who need it,” Rahner said.  

Recently, I met with Rahner in the St. Thomas social hall to see where all the magic happens, as well as learn more about her and her history with nonprofits.

How long have you been a part of St. Thomas’s parish?

Well, I will put it this way; my youngest daughter is 50. We were originally part of St. Cornelius’s parish, but they did not have a school, so we sent our kids to St. Thomas The Apostle school while also attending church at St. Cornelius. We were very involved with St. Cornelius but thought it would be best that, since our kids went to school where there was also a church, we should switch over and make it easier for everyone. We switched over when my youngest daughter was still in school, so that would place us at about 25 maybe 30 years or so ago?

And when you switched, how did you get involved with volunteering and St. Thomas’s organizations?

My husband and I were very involved in our old parish organizations, volunteering, events, so when we switched, my husband looked into everything, and we joined in. However, they— St. Thomas— originally did not have involvement with certain non-profit organizations such as “Caring for Friends,” and that’s when we stepped in.

What exactly is “Caring for Friends,” and what does it entail?

There are many people in the world, especially in Philly, who are starved, poor, sick, and sometimes left isolated in their homes. These people often lack family and friends to support them, so the Caring organization has volunteers meet with clients throughout the five-county greater Philadelphia region and provides them with the meals we, and many other organizations pack up. The clients receive home-cooked meals, a visit, and a friend. They pick up and prepare the meals that are gathered and packaged at religious organizations and their center in North East Philly. They have been doing this since 1974.

How did you get the parish on board with your involvement with “Caring for Friends”?

We originally did everything out of our house— just us. We stored all the food and drove it up to Philly, where their homebase is, and delivered it to them. We then branched out and asked for volunteers, and they, of course, were more than happy to take it on.

When did you decide this was the direction you wanted to go in life?

[Smiles] I never decided. My husband has always been the one to get involved in everything, and he drags me along with him. When they asked for volunteers one Sunday many, many years ago, we decided to join. We continued to insert ourselves in charity events, organizations, and volunteer work, never thinking it would go this far or that we would still be doing it now at 80 years old.

How did you first seek help, donations, and volunteers? And is this a method you continue to use in 2020?

Through the church bulletin and word-of-mouth. [Looks through folder on table] Here, if you flip to the last page, you will see the “ads” people put in, ours is on the bottom. We would place “ads” in the bulletin or have the priest mention it at the end of mass, requesting meals and people to help pack up the food that had been donated. This is the most efficient way, it works, and we still use it today.

Was it difficult getting people to volunteer their time, donate, food, or help out with deliveries?

Fortunately, we live in a very generous and giving community. People are never shy when it comes to donations and volunteering. We also have a prayer group, and those ladies agreed to be on our food-packing list also. We are never short a hand.

One of the three freezers used to store packaged meals for “Caring for Friends.” Photo by Rosie Leonard. 

On what days do you meet and pack/prepare the food?

Every day. We have two to three ladies come in each day and collect donations, pack and sort the foods, and help send things out for delivery. Certain days are just for packing, certain days are for delivering, and on Mondays, we collect.

I know you now get the food packages picked up and delivered to “Caring for Friends,” so you do not see those you are helping, but have you ever met the people or families you are aiding?

I have never met them, but if I know people who are in need, I bring them food trays. Last week, we had leftover ice cream, and I brought it to a mother and daughter within the parish. They were beyond grateful because the mother cannot get out much or move around well. It brought them a lot of happiness. There is also a non-destitute family of nine within the community, and I try my best to bring over food trays or things that can’t be frozen here. The mother says that she goes grocery shopping and comes home with one brown bag full of what she can afford. By the time the bag hits the counter, the food is gone. Most of the time, the mother does not eat because she wants her children to be nourished.

Knowing that people are in these situations year-round, is it difficult that most people only acknowledge it during the holiday season?

Well, fortunately around here, everyone is incredibly generous year-round. Everyone seems to be aware of what is going on, and they do their best to help. As for other areas, I cannot speak for them, but I can imagine.

Alongside all of this, I hear you recently got involved with a movie production company in the Garnet Valley area. Please tell me more about this and your affiliation.

Well, just last year— maybe it is two years now— a man named Nate Rose contacted the parish in hopes of donating the leftover food from the sets to somewhere/someplace that could use it. He apparently had called around to a lot of other places/organizations, but they were not interested. So our parish director talked to me about it and, of course, I said yes. So now, each day, I head over and pick up all of the leftover food that was prepared and served there. On Mondays, the food is picked up and placed in the freezer to be distributed and packed up on Tuesdays. We bring it back here, pack it up, and send it out. They always have beautiful displays of food, and most of it goes to waste, which is why he sought out for a local organization to take it.

Is there anything else you think I, or others, should know about hunger and isolation?

There is so much food in this world that no one should ever go hungry. By saving that extra piece of chicken, bowl of potatoes, vegetables, or what have you, you could feed one person or maybe even a whole family. One “scrap” can go a long way.

For more information on “Caring for Friends,” visit: https://caringforfriends.org

[rosie-leonard]

Rosie’s Raving Review

Flyer from stand-up comedian John Mulaney’s 2017 “Kid Gorgeous” performance at Bob Carpenter Center, Del. Photo by Rosie Leonard. 

John Mulaney, the funniest and most formal man in a suit, released his third Netflix special, “Kid Gorgeous,” two years ago, today. His consistent self-deprecating yet chipper behavior will keep you entertained for the entire show and leave you wanting more.  

Mulaney has been in the comedy realm for over a decade and continues to provide fresh and witty content with each coming year. Although he has been producing content for years, it was not until recently that he rose to fame through his two latest stand-ups, “The Comeback Kid” and “Kid Gorgeous.” Aiding in his rise to fame was his improvised Broadway show with Nick Kroll, “Oh, Hello.”

Alongside “Oh, Hello,” Mulaney also stars in “Big Mouth” and, more recently, his own Netflix show, “The Sack Lunch Bunch,” a series for kids that also caters towards adults. His comedic range knows no limits, making him one of the few versatile comedians left that knows how to entertain every crowd.

Preview cover photo of Mulaney’s “Kid Gorgeous” special on Netflix. Photo by Rosie Leonard. 

Performing in Radio City, Mulaney entered the stage, as he always does, wearing his most form-fitting communion outfit: a black suit and tie fancied with a white pocket square. He opened the special politely thanking the audience for leaving their house and purposely coming to see him, promising to give them a run for their money.

During a smooth transition to his childhood, he described a memorable interaction with his father at age seven, when his father compared him to a Nazi for sitting on a bench at recess instead of helping a classmate who was pushed off a seesaw.

Mulaney then led the audience through a series of traumatizing childhood events that shaped him into the Victorian girl he is today, starting with school assemblies with Detective J.J. Bittenbinder, a child homicide expert who was keen on teaching children how to throw a bad guy off his rhythm.

Mulaney set the scene for assemblies with Bittenbinder: “Try being 7 years old, sitting 5 feet away from him, and he’s still got blood on his shoes,” said Mulaney, in a convincing and playful tone. “And he is looking you in the eye and tells you for the first time in your very young life that some adults find you incredibly attractive, and they may just have to kill you over it.”

Mulaney then walked the audience through the do’s and don'ts of “street smarts,” tips courtesy of Bittenbinder.

It became clear that Mulaney feeds off the energy of crowds, as he added in exciting and playful actions throughout to keep the audience engaged, such as when he sassily swung around the microphone cord, and the crowd erupted into laughter.

He then segued to his adult years and informed the audience to stop impulsively attending college until society figures out what it really is.

He also described how awful and awkward it is to be a man in his thirties: “I am damp all of the time,” Mulaney said. “The butt part of my pants is a little damp, a lot. I’ll be sitting in a restaurant, and I get up like, ‘What did I sit in?’ and it was ME!"

To close, Mulaney relayed the perfect metaphor of present-day politics as a horse loose in a hospital: “No one knows what the horse is gonna do next, least of all the horse!” Mulaney said. “He’s never been in a hospital before; he’s as confused as you are.”

Touching on family-friendly topics ranging from childhood antics to the insanity and humor of religion and politics, Mulaney’s set was creative and thoroughly entertaining.

Mulaney’s body language, energy, and stellar storytelling skills added an extra teaspoon of fun and zest that most comedians these days lack, as they focus too much on getting to the punchline and not enough on improvisation or spontaneity. 

“Kid Gorgeous,” as well as “The Comeback Kid” and “New in Town,” are all available to stream on Netflix.