Moves Magazine Spring 2023

Page 76

lifestyle for city women

SPRING ISSUE

MARCIA GAY HARDEN

debating Chamber empty words

she don’t lie, she don’t lie, she don’t lie....c****** vodka

winter boyfriend...

spring cleaning why is forbidden fruit always the tastiest ?

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Marcia cover story

Marcia GAY HARDEN

For an actor with as much range and impact as Harden, the slogan seems more than fitting. Her body of work including many, many amazing and memorable productions - think Miller’s Crossing, Broadway’s Angels in America and God of Carnage and critically acclaimed tv shows like The Newsroom and How to Get Away with Murder - is witness to a broad and nuanced talent.

“... You can never have enough heart —or enough humor.”

Appearing in television, theater and of course movies since the 80s, she has had tremendous success topping out with an Oscar, a Tony and several Prime Time Emmy nominations. ( If her latest role of Margaret Wright in CBS’s So Help Me Todd keeps up the quality it has shown so far and lands the 2023 Emmy she will get her Triple Crown of Acting - one of the most lauded achievements in Hollywood!) While So Help Me... is primarily grounded in legal drama, Harden believes that it has a little bit of everything. “It’s not your normal show. It’s an hour-long procedural with comedy, drama, family, and a clue trail. To me, it’s not your regular procedural about fire, or crime, or whatever — it’s not just gore and guts.” Her character navigates a relationship between herself, Todd, her son and a private investigator with dry humor and wit through well observed interactions and dialogue.

For Harden, it’s important that she has a voice in the creative and generative process of storytelling. In her latest tv manifestation, her insight and experience have had a meaningful impact on the show’s production. “I’m a writer, myself, so I’m very much about the word. I also come from a theater background, so I have the opportunity to discuss language and scene, and to finesse the writing.” While she might be willing to re-arrange, re-write or even compromise, there’s one hill that she’ll die on when it comes to Margaret’s character. “One of the really important things for me is that she remains smart. There’s humor about hershe’s constantly doing malaprops, which is really funbut she always has to be a very smart lawyer.”

“I also feel like it’s important that the show doesn’t just live in a vacuum — that the things that we’re going through, the things that we’re solving as characters, and the things that we’re going through in life aren’t just specific to this little family in Portland.” So far, Harden’s efforts have addressed current and difficult social justice issues, such as “Gloom and Boom,” in which Margaret represents someone on death row wrongfully convicted of a racist murder. While telling these stories is necessary, Harden believes that simple writing is half of the battle. The other half, she argues, is writing them in nuanced ways. “Margaret is the head lawyer, but when she discusses this case, we didn’t want her to seem like the white savior. Everybody listened, and we all worked with some of those ideas.”

Both inside and outside of her job, Harden’s passion for advocacy is palpable. From discussing gentrification in New York City, to recounting the power of her appearance in “Angels in America” during the AIDS epidemic, to explaining her desire to see a more diverse entertainment industry, it’s clear that she’s committed to making her community more equitable. “In certain states in this country, they’re trying very hard to exclude human beings for simply being

who they are. It’s more important than ever that we change that now.” She also challenges those who argue that diversifying modern television and film casts might deduct from the “authenticity” of certain historical worlds. “It’s exciting, to me, to say, ‘What are all the many ways that we can tell and reimagine stories about time and neighborhood and imagination?”. If we’re telling ‘more realistic’ stories, let’s really be more realistic with it.” As someone who has dealt with a wide range of life experiences, she believes that it’s of the utmost importance to bolster as many voices as possible.

Harden (who relates to many of Margaret’s triumphs and challenges) says that playing this role has not only been professionally fulfilling, but personal, too. “I have grown children. I am divorced. I’ve been a working woman since God knows when, and I provide for my kids almost entirely. I have a world of experience that would allow me to understand Margaret, and I feel like there’s a lot of parallels between us.”

In a world that is constantly innovating and modernizing, it’s important to her to keep up. Although she’s curious about the development of new technologies, from artificial intelligence to the newest James Cameron films, she argues that there’s still a place in the entertainment industry for traditional media. “I’d like to believe that there’s always going to be a world of actors and storytelling, because it is so ancient. For the same reason people still love paper books — [it’s] something you can feel, something tangible and sensual.”

This tangibility, she says with a twinkle in her eye, is what fuels much of her acting craft. “When I’m on paper, things hit my brain differently.” In order to figure out the emphasis for her lines, Harden will even write them out by hand. “I’ve tried to use an app [to rehearse lines], but it doesn’t work the same for me. There’s not a connection; there’s not a kinetic moment to it.”

To say that Harden’s plate is full is an understatement. In the midst of traveling back and forth from shooting Uncoupled in New York and So Help Me Todd in Vancouver, helping her daughter navigate the college admissions process, and supporting her son’s casting in the Fringe Festival, she’s also cooking up a children’s mindful bedtime podcast called “Snoriezzz”—complete with affirmations and jazz music by Nana Simopoulos. However, and despite all of the current momentum in her life, she can’t help but feel that she’ll eventually return to the stage. “I’ll always go back to the theater. Right now, I only get to be an observer of it….[but] Theater is an old love.”

Dress: Tom Ford previous page Suit: Ralph Lauren
“... I n certain states in this country, they’re trying very hard to exclude human beings for simply being who they are. It’s more important than ever that we change that now... ”

From studying in Greece, Germany, and Texas, to making a name for herself in Washington, D.C., to attending graduate school and continuing to build her career in New York, it’s safe to say that Harden has lived a lot of lives. When she speaks about New York, it’s evident that the City has got to her. “New York is a magnet for me. There’s this eclectic, espresso energy on the street, and it’s moving. It’s never stagnant.” When she thinks about going back to the world of theater, she seems to also think of New York. “It is in a wonderful place; a wonderful, lush haven of theater and culture.”

Regardless of where Harden has been, or where she will go, one thing is abundantly clear: she is evergrateful for the present. Her composed confidence, desire to continue learning, and empathetic warmth, coupled with a very real awareness of the world, speak to her broad range of lived experiences... and her longing for more of them.

After all, as she says, “Life is long.”

Skirt and coat: Vintage Celine Hat: ClothedLA Shoes: Larroude

Photography: Riker Brothers

Styling: Bailey Moon Grooming: Richard Marin Jenna Anton Dress: Michael Kors
“... after all, life is long... ”
contents 006 018 022 026 030 034 036 marcia gay harden vod a get lost cocaine gun control love story taylor rooks MARCIA GAY HARDEN IN LA BY RIKER BROTHERS lola jesus saves todd stashwick diversity awards jake mcdorman 040 044 048 055 076
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vodka

It is probably the most popular alcoholic drink drunk around the world today. A pretty heady statistic for a beverage that some claim started from a Polish peasant’s rotting potato peelings. Trot that out in Tenjune and see the reaction. It might not be single malt yet, but it is certainly now a member of the Aristocracy.

034

Your boss may be a glorified boob, your lover non-committal, and your neighbors totally unruly. The cabbie took the long way despite your fervent requests, and you just realized you are indeed wearing navy socks, not black. You’re stuck behind a garbage truck and the meter is still running. It’s only Monday morning and you are already counting down to happy hour. When that blessed time finally comes, what will you be drinking when you curl up to the bar?

Vodka companies have been observing the subtle ways that make you uniquely you, discovering just what makes you tick, enabling every Dick and Nancy to clock out on his or her own terms. Over the past decade, the ingenuity of vodka branding has successfully captured the attention and palates of global consumers, offering up the keys to a vodka world of limitless possibilities. By handing you the reigns of choice to dictate just how you want your vodka, from conception to delivery, they grant you a purely authentic drinking experience reminiscent of the “Choose Your own Adventure” children’s books. While the scenery of your life may prove unpredictable, vodka keeps in stride, adapting kaleidoscopically to anticipate your every desire. Straight up now tell me, where else can you say “you’re not the boss of me” and sip it back a hundred different ways? You’re calling the shots on this adventure and vodka is riding shotgun.

“The snozberries taste like snozberries!”

Vodka companies have taken this journey to (literally) intoxicating heights, and with pure imagination, brought a flavor-crazed Willy Wonka world to fruition. Vodka, being characteristically odorless and colorless, allows creative freedoms that other spirits can’t. Its neutral quality lends itself to the role of muse perfectly, ready to pose for a mixologist’s masterpiece. While other liquors wait on the shelves for their chance to get inside you, vodka brands are devising ways to be more than just a one-night stand. And while some vodkas pair nicely with the walk of shame, some are definitely worthy of a second date. Check out who’s lining up at the bar…

Pure and Simple

For the vodka aficionado. Praise the drink for being transparently honest. Nothing better than a chilled martini. Or on the rocks (shaken, not stirred?). No contaminants. Appreciate the origins.

Natural

Appealing to those health-minded individuals who value natural living and a whole body experience (but who still want to get drunk), Skyy introduced all-natural, real fruit-infused vodka. Healthy always seems to be in style. On that note, namaste.

Piggy

On the backside of Natural, there’s the guy attending yoga strictly for the appreciation of spandex. It’s no crime to indulge a little. If you are that guy, Black Rock Spirits cooked up some ‘Bakon Vodka’ to go with your eggs. The website has a great recipe for a Bakon Mary.

Guns

If you’ve had to forgo rocking out at the club in order to maintain a rockin’ bod, Devotion Spirits has your back, bro. Devotion arrived on the scene in November to rescue both your biceps and your social life. Now you can get back to your drink while you practice your fist pump, without the sabotage. Before running out to the nearest Jersey liquor store (yes, this is a Jersey thing), you should note that with only 20 grams of protein for every 750 ml bottle, you’ll need an exorbitant amount of alcohol to meet your protein requirements. Attention: the midnight train to douchebag-land leaves in five.

Polly-tics

Some strip down for a good cause. Others plant trees. With its ‘No Label’ campaign, Absolut Vodka was one of the first brands to get totally naked and reveal what’s underneath it all. The label-less bottle suggests that it’s what’s on the inside that counts, and aims to raise awareness of the prejudice against sexual minorities. By challenging the labels, they hope to “make the world more diverse, vibrant, and respectful,” one bottle at a time. In a world of no labels, we are free to define ourselves.

Here’s a true story: Tru Organic Spirits is not leaving it up to the consumer to merely inherit their value system. Whatever your relationship with the environment may be, they are committed to the cause and plant a tree for every bottle purchased.

Under the Influence

As far as vodka is concerned, whether you’re a Charlie Bucket or Veruca Salt, somewhere behind every bar there’s a golden ticket just for you. Now that we’ve been acquainted and find ourselves intoxicated on snozberry infusions, naked and ready to plant a tree, we have to wonder, ‘what’s next, vodka?’

I guess the trick to staying relevant is to continually find new ways to matter. Vodka went from infusing tangerines to infusing our value systems into what we drink. Brands found the ultimate way to ensure that vodka can mean more than just a means to a one-night stand. They’re giving consumers the benefit of the doubt that we indeed have substance, infusing our values into vodka, not the other way around. Take it or leave it, vodka is simply offering you a new infusion – a chance to change the world one bottle at a time.

OTONY GALE is an award wining NYC based photographer, in addition to working with Moves he shoots for a variety of editorial, corporate and advertising clients. He is a Sony Artisan of Imagery, a Manfrotto Ambassador, an X-Rite Coloratti and the APA National President. For fun and work he travels and has been to all 50 states and all over the world.

SOPHIA FOX-SOWELL is a multimedia producer who graduated from Northeastern with a Master of Arts (MA) in Journalism, in the Media Innovation program. She is currently Podcast Production Strategist at CBS Interactive, where she recently worked on Making Space: The Female Frontier, a limited-series podcast about the women who helped shape space discovery and exploration but were never fully recognized or consistently overlooked because of their gender.

Born in Iowa City and growing up in a small town west of Chicago, twin brothers DEREK AND DREW RIKER were introduced to photography by their father who was always taking pictures. After graduating from the University of Illinois with degrees in Economics and both taking jobs in Chicago, they were left feeling unfulfilled in the business world. Their lives would change while on vacation in Miami Beach when they were scouted to be models. Their first assignment was shooting with Bruce Weber for L’Uomo Vogue and after two days on location immersed in that incredibly creative environment it was clear what their new career would be.

“I am a portrait, fashion and editorial photographer with a passion for people and their stories”. GERARD

t“LALO” SANDOVAL is a published photographer who has been telling stories through his camera’s eye for over 10 years. Originally from Mexico, Lalo now resides in Los Angeles, California, with his wife and 2 poodles.

Entrepreneur, innovator, businesswoman, editor and publisher - MOONAH ELLISON brings the same enthusiasm and dynamic energy to all her projects. From a UK based million dollar sales and marketing corporation to an influential fashion & lifestyle magazine in New York City to a successful national event company in the USA involving major players (amongst others Susan Sarandon, Robin Wright, Robert DeNiro, Kerry Washington, Ivanka Trump, Arianna Huffington and media partners MTV, Univision, CBS, ABC, CNN, NBC), Moonah has built success on top of success. She is married and lives in Manhattan.

tr r ib
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contributors O

Most of us start feeding ourselves when we’re toddlers. By the time we start school, we can dress ourselves and tie our own shoes. But at some point between the glorious innocence of youth and puberty, we morph from real, living, thinking human beings into brainless zombies, capable only of spewing forth the half-digested viscera that is public opinion and popular culture. It’s like a real-life horror story about alien forces taking over humanity, except we’re doing it to ourselves.

“In my opinion…” How many times a day do we hear this phrase, or say it ourselves? It’s become one of those meaningless phrases like, “no offense, but,” and, “in all honesty,” a preface to another sentence that is actually the exact opposite. It seems like no one has an opinion anymore, and if they do, it’s simply regurgitated from someone or somewhere else. Our ability to figure things out on our own is severely hampered by an ever-increasing influx of information, carefully crafted and manufactured from the media and our increasingly shameless consumercentric society.

Today, you can access information on anything at anytime. Need to find out what you should be wearing on Friday night? Curious about which of your high school classmates got fat? Wondering what color panties Lindsay Lohan was wearing to the club last night? It’s all right there for you, as long as you have an Internet connection. It’s reasonable that we gather a lot of our information on current events from such sources as newspapers and books, even blogs and social networking sites. But when we are taking talk shows, Wikipedia, and Twitter as gospel, we are no longer worried about the validity (or relevance) of the information we are using.

Our affinity for being told what to do and think isn’t new – just look at religion. Look at politics. Look at high school! Since the beginning of time, we’ve craved guidance and direction and the freedom of not having to think for ourselves. We’re like lemmings in leggings and Ugg boots – just as ready to step over the edge as any mindless mammal.

Of course, there are practical reasons for not having our own opinions. Because we humans live and work together, there are certain rules that must be followed to maintain order. Societal rules that used to be born of discussion and instinct are now coming from altogether disturbing sources:

Hollywood tells us what we should look like to be appealing to one another; talk shows and gossip blogs tell us what we should be interested in so we can have informed conversations with others. And it’s true. We need a certain amount of that “follow the herd” mentality for life to run smoothly. But why have we let groups with the least interest in our well-being become our advisors? Simply because modern life has allowed us to become lazy, in both body and mind. We would rather be fed shit than have to go out and forage on our own.

And so we become walking advertisements. We become another face in the crowd with our head down, following the feet in front of us. We welcome the distraction and numbness that it brings. And we can blame “the man” all day long, but growing up in a media-obsessed world, we’re not blind to how it works. We know current events and trends are fed to us through channels with their own motives; we’re given information that will encourage us to think a certain way, to buy a certain product. The scariest part is that we know this, and go along with it anyway. We’ve accepted our roles as passive consumer drones. Are our lives so miserable that we would give them up completely, replacing them with reality TV and celebrity sex tapes? Wasn’t there a time when people enjoyed research and discussion and thought?

I think the ease with which we can get anything (food, sex, comfort, entertainment) has made us lose our spark, our energy. By getting rid of some of the superficial, pointless distractions in our lives (things we think we need but that really only waste our time), we can become curious again, a natural instinct that has gotten us so far in the past.

And maybe it’s not realistic to think that we can have our own, unique, perfectly informed opinions on anything and everything. We simply don’t have the time. But we should make an effort to do a bit more research, to look into things a bit deeper before we blindly accept whatever is served up to us (… can I really not get through my day without knowing the identity of the 46th woman Tiger Woods has screwed this week?) We should all be a little less afraid of speaking up, of having ideas that go against the grain – because it’s those of us who take risks and showcase our uniqueness that end up successful. But that’s just my opinion.

GET 076

GET LOST!

Like Alice in Wonderland’s Tweedledum and Tweedledee, we are so absorbed with the minutiae of our society – celebrity springs to mind – that we have abnegated our intellectual responsibilities to ourselves, and more importantly, our kids. Think for goodness sake, or take what you are given.

It seems like a given that when you're dating someone with a cocaine habit it's going to affect your relationship in some way, but it's actually this weird transition thinking you're dating a totally "normal" and then you find out they do cocaine to party, and you like them so that seems okay you guess, but then you find out that it's becoming more and more often but he's keeping that from you (because users usually try and do that to non-users), to one day you step back and look at your life and realize you're involved with someone that is spiraling into the trap of addiction.

I always found you very attractive and charming although I thought your personality was pretty dry. We had met several times at parties through mutual friends and you were always super sweet. When my friend told me you were asking about me and my relationship status, I can't deny that I was intrigued and giddy although I thought it was weird because

you had been sleeping with a good friend of mine recently. One day we ran into each other on the subway and you were so hot and I was totally swooning and you said something like, "next time I see you I'll have to get your number," which I found really confusing because you could've just gotten my number then. Then we run into each other a couple of more times and you finally ask for my number one night. A month and a half later you text me (??) and then don't respond to my text back. Little did I know that this spotty behavior was the precedent for our 'relationship' and I'm figuring out more and more it's because of your cocaine habit and how it's effect transcends so many levels of any sort of relationship.

From how you wouldn't invite me around certain friends because they were your 'coke' buddies and I didn't get down like that, so you intentionally kept the worlds separate. But you were on some level ashamed because instead

dish
“She don’t lie, she don’t

she don’t lie... Cocaine”*

of telling me you were hanging out with certain people, you would make plans with me but then just last-minute ditch me and not invite me out and you would hang out with them instead. But before I figured this out, I just felt shafted all of the time like you didn't want to spend time with me.

When we did hang out and meet up with people in a public place, you were constantly running off to the bathroom with someone interested in doing a bump with you, or I was even skeptical of when you entered the bathroom by yourself that you were just doing it by yourself. Totally not cool to have to wonder about that. Or that if you went in there with another girl that you were actually just doing blow or something that my jealous mind can't help but wonder about.

How whenever we'd have sex and you weren't on coke it was great and fun and amazing, but

when you were on coke it was like you were impotent and couldn't keep the act going. Whenever this got to be the case more and more I felt like you started to turn it around on me like you weren't turned on anymore, but I know that it's because you were just doing blow that more often.

Human relationships, especially romantic ones are complicated, fragile states of mind. Susceptible to the vagaries and impulses of the human condition. When an individual chooses to further complicate things by regularly altering their mind set with a powerful stimulant like cocaine it leaves anyone in their circle who cares, romantic or not, without the norms to understand them and adjust to their altered state. For a serious lover it's devastating. Unfair and uncaring. But definitely a brightly illuminated exit sign. Take my advice and take it.

The exit sign that is!

don’t lie,
* from Cocaine by Eric Clapton

DEBATING CHAMBER

rant

What makes the national divide on firearms in the USA so intractable? Other countries with a worse incidence of ultra-violence in their societies seem not so wilfully blind to possible solutions. Is it inbred in the American culture, inherited from our pioneering, trail-blazing forebears, our struggle for independence, our much flaunted exceptionalism? If so, is it unpatriotic to call it into question? Or just idiotic not to? ?

We have a problem in this country. We really, really love our Constitution. We love that thing to the point of idolatry. We love that thing to the point of pure insanity, and all you have to do is mention guns to prove it.

I am a patriot. I love the United States of America. And because I’m a patriot and love this country, I refuse to sit by and blindly worship a document that was created over 200 years ago, in the midst of a revolutionary war, without demanding that it be taken to task to serve the needs of the 21st century. Our Founding Fathers would be horrified that anybody who lives in this country would. Think about it. The first thing they ever did after creating the damn thing was to amend it. They knew we would look to the Constitution for guidance but they also knew it wasn’t perfect. They knew the needs of America in her infancy wouldn’t be the same needs of America as the most powerful country – they probably never allowed themselves to dream that America would ever be the world’s most powerful country.

Yet here we are, the most powerful country in the world, and we can’t even acknowledge that we have a gun problem. A handful of hillbillies who like to shoot stuff came together, created an acronym to hide behind, and began to change the way this country works to suit their own needs. And we accept it. We keep silent about it. We let them do it.

I just don’t understand how. How can we be so stupid, so psychotic, to think that the Second Amendment is somehow promising every American a gun? How are we not all standing up in outrage that this debate never even happens because a handful of people have decided it’s not allowed? That’s the point of this country. Something doesn’t work, so we fix it. Well, the second amendment does not work. Not in the way it’s come to mean.

The Second Amendment was written in 1791, when the best thing you could get was a musket. Your average Joe could fire off maybe three rounds in a minute. A crack shot military unit could fire off - and this is amazing – five whole rounds. And that didn’t even guarantee the death of whomever they were shooting at, because half the time the shot would go wide or fall short. Automatic weapons? Extended clips? In the 1700s they couldn’t even conceive of

steam engines. So if you’re seriously going to tell me that the Founding Fathers wanted us all to pack a machine gun that could fire off hundreds of rounds in a minute, I’m seriously going to smack you.

When that amendment was written, America was a brand new country. She was covered in mercenaries, and soldiers out of work, and people who’d had everything taken away from them by war. It took weeks to travel what now takes hours - who knew what kind of criminal you were going to be harassed by in the woods? Our justice system was negligent and we had just finished a war; America didn’t even know if she’d hold it together as a union, let alone as a country against the great nations. Of course there must be a provision to make sure that the people could rally together and form a state militia to ward off attacks.

But we are no longer living in 1791. This is 2023. America does stand on top, but she is infected with people who refuse to let her progress.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen a Facebook status, purportedly quoting either George Washington or Thomas Jefferson as a way of saying “we’re right, you’re wrong, GUNS FOR EVERYONE LET THEM ROAM FREE!!!!” Never mind that these quotes are simply twisted to the convenience of someone who wants to put their hands over their ears and pretend facts don’t exist. Never mind that they can’t be vetted as real quotes; they come with Founding Fathers attached and that’s good enough for the people who keep shoving them at me.

Other arguments include pointing out that the first assault weapons ban didn’t stop mass shootings or gun deaths. Okay. So we should give up? We should wipe our hands and say ‘Well we tried but it didn’t work, so we should let potential mass murders have easier access to things that can do more damage?”

My favorite argument is that guns are for protection and crime deterrence. Fuck anybody who tells me that they need an AR-15 for “protection.” No you don’t. There are two kinds of people who need assault weapons: people who are going into battle, and people who are planning on killing. Keep your hunting rifles and handguns - I’m never going to your house, but I’m not going to tell you that you can’t have them. But screw you for

even suggesting that a background check is an invasion of privacy and trumps me making sure that your new ability to go and kill people is curbed.

How can you dare to tell me that someone who’s potentially planning terrorist activities, or someone who’s already been convicted of a felony deserves the same access to a gun that your average gun enthusiast does? How can you tell me that access to guns doesn’t actually factor into the equation and it’s really the fault of movies and media? No, it’s not just video games. It’s not just movies or TV or music. You know who else has access to those things? The rest of the advanced world. Do you know who doesn’t have the same problem with guns that America has? The rest of the advanced world.

A shiny new argument against gun control laws is that that the UK has more violent crimes in a year than the US. Okay, so the U.S. has less violent crime – goodie for us. But what this argument doesn’t tell you is that the crime may be violent, but it doesn’t tend to end with everyone being dead.

A guy with a knife can’t kill in the same way a guy with a gun can. If you brandish a knife in someone’s face you scare them, and you can stab and hurt them, it’s true. It’s still really hard to kill someone with a knife if you’re not properly trained. But with a gun? You don’t have to be looking at the person when you kill them. You don’t even have to be aiming at the person when you kill them. They just have to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Gun control laws work. They may not work in countries that are effectively run by drug lords or at war with one another, but they work well enough in first world countries.

And still we refuse to do anything about it. That suggests that as a country we’re okay with letting this continue. Why are we okay with this? Why are we letting a handful of people hiding behind an acronym tell us that extended magazines are a totally necessary thing for ones’ leisure, and that the Constitution protects our right to stock pile enough for a small army? Why are we refusing the victims of mass shootings the dignity of a people trying to fix this? Because you don’t honor the victims by standing up self-importantly refusing to fix our system. You spit on their memory.

dish

When do you realize you’ve made a mistake…?

Is it in those pivotal first few seconds following that terminal decision? Or is the time frame much lengthier? Does it take days, weeks, or even months for the inevitably consequential repercussions to perforate your soul? Like a stain that can’t be removed by vigorous scrubbing or multiple trips to the dry cleaner. It’s always there—an invisible mark on your otherwise picture perfect complexion that can only be seen by looking inward, which no one ever seems to do.

Mistakes are cockroaches that plague the earth, but instead of infectious epidemics, they carry our insecurities and baggage. They never die. No, mistakes have evolved and adapted to modern life so effectively that they simply keep multiplying until not even a nuclear explosion can erase and reset the very first time the imagination centers in our brains lit up, our tongues flapping words about actions that never were.

Mistakes are the lies we tell ourselves.

There are black lies and white lies, and lies in every shade of gray. White lies are innocent and harmless. Telling yourself that you’ll someday fit into a dress that was never made to fit your figure. Black lies are deadly, forcing yourself to believe that sleeping with that mysterious stranger from the bar brought you some small sense of satisfaction and empowerment.

But gray lies—gray lies are dangerous.

Gray lies are the lies we don’t fully understand or know to be untrue. They blur, with strands of truth intertwined with deceit. There’s no clear-cut process to tell the difference between the truth and the illusions we paint for ourselves. No systematic method to rule out all plausible possibilities that maybe you were right all along.

Humans always have hope. God, what a stupid notion!

Hope is like faith. And you know what they say about faith? It’s blind. Hope is complete sensory deprivation.

Gray lies cast a veil over our eyes and inject a slow stream of venom into our hearts. A poison that seeks not to kill, but to maim or paralyze, which is a far more fatal attraction. But to veterans of this pretense, gray lies are not only second nature, they’re our second language. And we are quite fluent.

Like flower petals plucked so perfunctorily while you’re dizzily daydreaming, hoping to convince fate to come to fruition.

Fate. God, what a stupid notion!

I’ve waited long enough.

Patience is overrated. Those who claim patience to be a virtue must not have wanted anything badly enough to lose themselves in the fray. Patient people hav e no true ambition. The ambitious do not bide their time, they take it. They manipulate it to sui t their needs, forcefully molding the golden opportunity.

A lot like lying.

I lied to him — and he left me.

TAYLOR ROOKS

... ON TOP OF HER GAME

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“... Just because the path that you want isn’t there, doesn’t mean you can’t follow it... ’
credits: photographer: tony gale video: cris pena stylist: alison hernon hair and make up: buffy hernandez daisy curbeon, yoli cotray, anita

Taylor Rooks is changing the face of sports entertainment. Rooks has staked her claim in the industry as a sports interviewer and reporter to the biggest names in sports media, including ESPN, Bleacher Report, and the Big Ten Network.

In a family of sports fans and a former high-school basketball player herself, it was only a matter of time before Rooks found a place for herself in athletics. While her roots are in St.Louis, Rooks’ career flourished during her time at the University of Illinois. At UI, she was a sideline reporter and anchor for the Big Ten Network covering a diverse range of athletics.

Rooks cemented her name in sports with her podcast, ‘TimeOut With Taylor Rooks’ on SportsNet New York. On the podcast, Rooks was in conversation with legends such as Kevin Durant to SnoopDogg. Her keen interviewing skills and ability to connect with athletes on an individual basis set her apart.

Despite her hard work and talent, Rooks did not break into the industry unscathed.  It’s no mystery that sports entertainment is a predominantly white space. As a Black reporter, Rooks endured additional challenges to achieve the success she now has. Rooks had a few words of advice for other Black youth with dreams of entering the industry, “Harness the life that you’ve lived and understand that it is something that will propel you in this space because it is something that makes you different. But also, that makes you really important too”.

Additionally, Rooks is a woman in an ultra-macho industry which comes with its own set of obstacles to navigate. Yet, she prevailed with some tips on how she weathered the pressure.

“I’m used to being around men. I’ve been around men my whole life and I’m not gonna let the behaviors of men change what I have to do or stop me from getting where I’m going. I enter each room with the expectation of being respected as a journalist and as a woman. I’ve also been fortunate to have solid and impactful male friends and allies in this space that I’m super thankful for”.

Diversity is what enriches an industry; including diversity in content produced by the network. Rooks caught on to the importance of diverse content early in her career and decided to make a pivot. “I’ve been able to carve out a lane that is based on long-form conversations. It’s based on knowing that when somebody sits down with me, they’re gonna say something that you haven’t heard. My path now is based on what I can encourage from people and not just based on the things that I say.”

In case you have yet to watch a Taylor Rooks interview, she has a way of making her guests feel comfortable enough to share their stories. It is a skill you don’t frequently see in sports reporting. When asked what advice she would give her younger self, she responded, “Just because the path that you want isn’t there, doesn’t mean you can’t follow it. I say that because I’ve always loved strictly interviewing above all else more than hosting, more than reporting, more than anchoring. Traditional journalism tells you you have to exclusively be those things but, I wanted to just be an interviewer. I think I’ve been able to carve out a lane that is based on long-form conversations”.

With this new angle, Taylor Rooks stood out during the 2019-2020 NBA Bubble. During the pandemic, the NBA created a quarantined working and living bubble of NBA players and staff in Disney Land California to protect from the spread of COVID-19. Rooks was one of the few people in the bubble. Despite living and working during such difficult times, she found a community in her co-workers.

“I think that we all kind of felt like we were a part of this like, fraternity of people [since] there’s very few people you can talk to about the bubble. That place made me a better journalist, and I am eternally thankful for that experience”.

Her growth in the bubble did not go unnoticed. In 2019. Rooks was listed on Forbes 30 under 30. She has created a positive example for the next generation of women in athletics. Rooks has hopes that the next-gen will have a brighter future. .

“I hope stories are told about their talent and accomplishments because too often we make stories about women in sports, about them being women… in sports. We can discuss women as great athletes as champions, competitors, et cetera. Womanhood doesn’t need to be the focal point of everything. So my hope is just that they are seen as, as whole people.”

In terms of hopes and dreams for her career, Rooks is enthusiastic to interview more voices. She has dreamed of interviewing one particular athlete for some time now, Serena Williams. When asked what her question for Williams would be, Rooks responded, “I would wanna ask her about the pressure and the happiness that has come with being the standard and when you become the standard at something, what pushes you to keep on wanting to be greater because she’s already accomplished is great, you know? Also [I would ask about], the different sacrifices that that she had to make in comparison to her male counterparts.”

While Rooks has achieved greatness, she is continuously raising the bar. So, we asked, what is her end goal? “To be the go-to person that interviews any and everyone. So athletes, politicians, entertainers, and everyday citizens. If you have something to say, I want to be who you say it to. That’s my career ambition.”

“...
If you have something to say, I want to be who you say it to. That’s my career ambition...”

Whatever Lola Wants...

“Has anyone ever told you that your scent is intoxicating?”

That’s a line I use sometimes. It works. On men. On women. They fall for it, without fail, each and every time. Want to know why? Romance. Sensuality. Sexuality. It’s all bullshit. It doesn’t exist. You cannot measure it. You cannot capture it. You cannot test it. There is no theoretical explanation or supporting evidence to suggest that what a guy eats makes him more susceptible to not be an asshole and bring you flowers on your birthday. No formula to make sure he calls you when he says he will. No mathematical equation to say for certain that the night he fucks you he won’t fuck someone else. It isn’t real.

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But that line. The one I use on men, on women. It works. Why? Because it’s scientific—and I’ll prove it.

Attraction. Chemistry. The connection you feel when you meet someone, talk to them, tease them, dance with them, touch them, kiss them, fuck them—it’s all based on pheromones. Those tiny little particles that come individually packaged along with the DNA injected into your body by the genes your parents gave you when they were fucking in the backseat of a Metallica concert without a condom. Each person has their own set of pheromones. A distinct scent unlike anyone else. It makes them special. But that itself is an anomaly—because no one is special. Each and every person may have their own personality, DNA, fingerprints, belly button, taste buds; but then again, everyone does. They are not subscribed to a certain race, weight, height, eye color, hair color, or sexual orientation.

Yet even though we are aware of this universal truth, no one wants to admit that they are not unique. That nothing distinguishes them from the man sitting next to them on the bus or the woman they pass on the street. Sigmund Freud was not mistaken. All humans have an ego, and it must be fed. Like a lioness who hasn’t eaten in days, we are savages. Polytheists who worship the same gods: pride, power, and sex. They all feed our ego. And that line, the one I use on men, on women, it succeeds in satisfying each of our gods.

I find someone; man, woman, it makes no difference. Men are easier to control, but women are better in bed. For heterosexual sake, let’s say I meet a man. We meet at a bar. He sees me from across the room. Our eyes meet, blah, blah, blah. The classic scenario carefully deployed by every romantic movie. Its cliché, but I’ll use it here

because it fits into the scientific method. Now this man is handsome, meeting the symmetrical standards that are the foundation for visual attraction. I catch his eye. Target acquired. He strolls over to introduce himself. I don’t care what his name is, it is irrelevant. I am on a mission. He finds our conversation intriguing. I keep him interested with clever word play, with light touches, with my smile. But what really keeps him inching closer and closer to my strategically placed scandalously clothed body are my eyes. Windows of fire that seer into his very existence and make him feel like my eyes were made for his gaze alone. My eyes draw him in, a fishing line baited with dynamite; waiting for the perfect catch, the ideal opportunity so I can explode.

He suggests, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure,” I casually respond.

And it must be “sure.” Not “Yes.” Not “Absolutely.” Sure. Sure is nonchalant. It isn’t too eager, it’s cool. It’s calm. It doesn’t retreat and throw away the upper hand. Sure sounds differently than yes. Yes is a preppy school girl who finally manages to sneak out of the house for the first time. “Okay” works the same way, but sure is aesthetically pleasing to the ears. It’s the s. Automatically triggers sex in his mind, not that it wasn’t already. But it lets him know that it’s on mine too.

We go back to his place. Drink a glass of wine on his fine leather sofa. He leans in to kiss me. I let him. Lightly, gently, not too much tongue. Then I lean back, I stare into his eyes, and then I attend to his neck; softly grazing my nose from the bottom of his trachea to the beginning of his earlobe. I investigate his skin. I inhale him.

Once I reach his ear, I whisper, “Has anyone ever told you that your scent is intoxicating?”

Instant explosion.

Pride. Each person wants to be proud of themselves, of who they are. And the only way to get that is through reinforcement. Constant reinforcement. They want to know, believe that the image they project into society is the same one reflected in the mirror. Scent is a projection. And I just told him that I cannot escape his.

Power. He believes he has a hold over me, that I have fallen for him. He has the control. He is the cat, I am the mouse. And I am trapped.

Sex. Enough said.

My work here is done. I have ensnared my prey. I have hit my target. Mission accomplished. Time to go home. Well, as soon as I get what I came there for: satisfaction.

My brother once called me a hunter. He said that I “go in for the kill.” Word for word he warned his friends about me. He told them to watch out for me. At first I was offended. What a terrible thing to for an older brother to say, to even think, about his baby sister. But that’s the rationale our patriarchal society wants me to have.

So I thought again.

I realized that I have a particular set of skills that make me dangerous, even deadly. I am a Venus fly trap. I am a siren, a temptress with an unprecedented skill for seduction.

It’s a game I play.

And I always win.

043

JESUS SAVES

In the spring of 1990, two friends of mine—the Sandberg sisters—asked if I wanted to come with them to their “Young Life” meeting. I didn’t know what the hell that was, but they were funny and interesting girls (and most importantly: they actually spoke to me), so I accepted. The meeting took place at an historic Tudor mansion on top of the tallest hill in our town. Its inhabitants were the hosts and defacto leaders of our town’s branch of the organization, which turned out to be some kind of non-denominational Christian youth organization.

I was nervous. At that age I was nervous about everything, especially things that involved talking to people. But this was a freaked-out situation, and staring at the front door of that big old house certainly did nothing to quell my fears. I half expected Jacob Marley to appear on the knocker. I had no idea what I was heading into, but I had morbid curiosity and a desire to check out the interior design on my side so, before I could say “sheared mink throw,” I was standing in a vacuous oaken living room with a huge oriental rug, and French doors open to a grassy backyard. “Oh my god,” I thought to myself, “This is totally the set from Heathers.”

There were 30 or 40 other kids there. Teenagers, and most of them attractive, well-dressed, and friendly. A few exchange-student types and a smattering of what my mom called “dirtballs” rounded out the mix. And then the other “me’s”—cute, awkward guys who needed friends and oh just maybe were beginning to realize that they were gay. From this snapshot, I defy you to distill who among us were the predators and who the prey.

The evening progressed into what I can only term a “revival.” There were games: ice-breakers involving strangers binding their legs together and then racing similarly handicapped couplings to the far side of the lawn. There was guitar-playing and along-singing, and at least one skit. At the end of the evening, a “sermon” was snuck in by the tall, lean, blond leader in strategically tattered jeans and a fitted t-shirt. I can only describe this specimen as “Beckham-ey,” and I sat rapt as he filled my ears with Jesus-related rhetoric and my mind with, well, NON-Jesus-related thoughts.

My experience with all things Jesus-ey up to this point could be described as “annoyed disinterest.” I found church to be boring and religious people to be not fun or friendly and usually overly fond of sansabelt pants and polyblends (is that redundant?). These Young Life Christians were a different (and sexier) animal. They didn’t sing “church songs,” they sang “Lean On Me” … the Indigo Girls, Cat Stevens, James Taylor. They laughed. They embraced me (albeit slightly aggressively), and they were HOT.

I continued to go to Tuesday night meetings weekly for the balance of the spring. I craved them. If in school I felt like an outsider and a pariah, at Young Life I felt like a celebrity. By the time summer came, I was a fullfledged “Youth Leader” (a title I am still not convinced had any real meaning), and it wasn’t long before we all piled onto coach busses (with TV/VCRs, of course) and were transported to the much-lauded (and presumably extreme-

... JUST NOT ME!

ly expensive) Camp Castaway. This was truly a northern paradise, designed to appeal to every teenager’s summer camp-movie fantasy. 50-foot hottubs (two of them, right on the beach), sweeping grounds, beautiful facilities, and a zipline terminating in the mirrorlike lake. Jet-skis, water-skiing, and sailing both para- and non. And, best of all, quaint cabins with bunk beds and (wait for it …) gang showers to share with my virile young cabinmates.

Eveningly we gathered in the Anchor (a sort of Zen-influenced auditorium complete with floor pillows and oversized carpeted stairs for seating) for what were essentially glorified versions of our Tuesday night meetings. But the songs were better, the games funnier, and the Jesus-talk more insidious. At the tail end of each night there was a skit performed by the (sexy) camp staff, who we quickly came to idolize for their athletic prowess, charisma, morality, and tanned abs. It was similar in structure to a John Hughesinfluenced Real World, complete with confessionals and broad archetypical characters: the cute jock, cute honors student, cute shy girl, cute chubby girl, and—notably—cute homo? There must have been six of them in total, because each night of our stay featured the personal story of another of them, ultimately culminating with how—through a series of cliché, Lifetimestyle rapes, bullying, drug abuse, and drunk daddies—each of them had come to “give” his/her life to (wait for it …) Jesus.

It was an intense week on the quietest of days. With no idea of who I was or what my story and reputation might be, I was allowed to reinvent myself, and as a result—for the first time in my life—I was actually “popular.” Some quick teenage math led me to believe that I owed it all to Jesus. In one week, I had been transformed from awkward, gay outcast to cute, fun friend of the most popular guy in camp: Jesus.

They saved the homo for the final night of camp. Who the hell remembers what his story was—misfit, arty, “not like the other boys,” they never came right out and said it but the implication was clear (I believe he played the French horn)—all I know is that however obvious their formula was, they finally got to me. I lost it. In grand style. Like break-up lost it. The crying was legendary. Dry heaves, sobs … there were scenes, parts, and acts. It was loud, and it was earnest, and it was exactly what they had been after. I was having a breakdown and they were eating it up. I am surprised the tissues they offered me were not quilted with Jesus’ face, just for safety.

When I got home my mom was in the midst of her annual summer garage sale. I went straight to bed, still drained. In the morning she took me to Denny’s for a welcome-back breakfast and to dish about the week. I confessed to her AA-style that I had given my life to Jesus. I did the same with my father the following weekend when I went to stay with him. For the next year I participated in fund-raising car washes, pancake breakfasts, fashion shows, auctions, bake sales, fall, winter, and spring carnivals, door-to-door candy sales, talent shows, pledge drives, concerts, and art fairs. All proceeds going, of course, to “Jesus.” And this was all in addition to school, extracurriculars, and the weekly Tuesday night meetings.

rant

I was on fire with Jesus.

That summer two things were on the radar: Frontier Ranch—Young Life’s posh summer camp in the Colorado Rockies and my 16th birthday. The American 16th birthday is a serious rite of passage no matter who you are, what with the driver’s license, high school, and increased independence (I think my curfew actually got bumped to 11:30). I was also reaping the benefits of a deepening intellect and maturing sensibility. At 14 I was awkward and easily persuaded, not knowing who I was or what I wanted. But as adolescence wore on and my skin thickened (and cleared-up: NOT mutually exclusive), I discovered wit and intelligence that I hadn’t realized before, not to mention several new friends who had experienced similar revelations. Simply put, I was smarter and more aware of myself, and getting more so.

Interestingly, as this phenomenon continued, I also became less and less focused on Young Life … and Jesus. I did make it to Frontier Ranch, but I was just phoning it in by then. I was no longer charmed by the overly friendly staff and had even grown immune to the neverending renditions of “Lean On Me.” In the following months I found less and less time to participate and my appearances at meetings grew further and further apart and, eventually, petered out all together.

The fire, it seemed, had fizzled.

Ludwig Feuerbach and Sigmund Freud say that “God” and other religious beliefs are human inventions, created to fulfill various psychological and emotional wants and needs. We’re lonely, lost, sad, so we turn to “God.” This is also the Buddhist view. Karl Marx believed that people turn to religion in order to dull the pain caused by the reality of social situations. (Especially prophetic considering that Marx never had to set foot in an American junior high school.) He was also the one who said “[Religion] is the opium of the people.” I can only define myself, from ages 14-16, as a user.

The more confidence (and intelligence) I gained, the less interest I had in all things Christian. I even went to parties. Had a drink. Took a drag off a joint. Oops. I had “fun.”

Statistics also suggest that there is a correlation indicating that religious conviction diminishes with education level. Marx (again) suggested that religion was used by the state as a means of oppressing the uneducated and uncritical masses. Only 7% of members of the National Academy of Science believe in a personal “God” (as compared to more than 85% of the general US population). And fundamentalist Christians—especially women—tend to acquire fewer years of education than others do.

At this point in my life—two degrees and innumerable educational life experiences later—I can profess that I no longer sustain any belief whatsoever in a higher power. And I don’t believe myself to be any the worse for wear because of it. Quite the contrary: I actually find myself suspicious of the religious and equally confused and untrusting of the “spiritual.” I wonder what they’re after and— worse—how they are going to try to get a hold of my money under the guise of some altruistic-ish “cause.”

I do not deny anyone’s right to do whatever it is that makes them feel better and helps them tolerate what can often be a cruel world. But neither do I endorse it. And I do reserve the right to criticize their choices in the same manner I give my brother a hard time for never attaining a college degree: it just doesn’t make good sense. And I can’t convince myself that someone who donates time and money to—say—the Catholic Church, the most wealthy institution in the world, is on an equal intellectual level or that they are not perhaps mildly challenged. Or running for office. And worse—shame on them!—that they should dare to ask for my time or money and suggest that I am morally inferior when I refuse to give it. My morals are strong—perhaps more so for the sake of my having to learn and develop them for myself rather than reading them in James’ version of Peter’s interpretation of what the Gospel might have been according to Mark after translation and interpretation from the original Aramaic [ck] into Latin into Italian into English and then revised over the course of the pursuant 2007 and 5/6 years. The morals I follow serve what I believe to be right, based on my experience and those of the people I admire. I live according to them because it is what I believe is right and true, and because I want to contribute to the betterment of the world I live in—for my own benefit as much as anyone else’s—and not because of what teachings I can only term “ghost stories” suggest might happen to my “soul” when I die or because I don’t want to “disappoint” some magical father figure who apparently looks like Gandalf and lives on a cloud.

Likewise, I simply cannot convince myself to believe that intelligent and honest people truly believe that an omniscient, omnipotent, and omni-benevolent “God” is ok with a world in which cruelty and suffering thrive to the extent that they do today. Epicurus said “Is [God] willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then is he not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is not malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Whence then is evil?”

Whence indeed.

I understand there is an argument to that thinking which insists that “God” allows mankind to suffer for its own betterment … so that he may evolve. To dispute that claim, which I perceive as the dying wail of the desperate, I believe one need look no further than Lower Manhattan.

Maybe you think that’s a cheap shot, and you might be right. But that doesn’t make it any less evident. I consider preying (“praying?”) on the insecurities of a lost teenage gay guy to be a pretty cheap shot as well, and the Christian church, therefore, is in my estimation no more noble than a cult. What can I say? If it walks like a duck ….

Friends have often lost patience with me in conversations about “God” and religion, and I expect more than one reader might have a similar reaction to this article. They offer endless arguments for the possible existence of “God,” they highlight church’s positive role in the “community,” and they suggest that I just haven’t found the right “fit.” And I remind them that I am not the one trying to convince them of anything. My atheism is passive and I am loathe to evangelize. These are simply my views. Conversations like these usually terminate with some declaration of the distress I am causing the soul of the person with whom I am speaking. And for that I apologize, and remind them how thankful they must be to have “God” to ease their pain.

www.lilithparis.com

Todd Stashwick

“... If you’re looking for trouble... You came to the right ( No, But

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photography: Gerard Sandoval

“... it’s important for her to know, the world is one that we make... ”

Todd Stashwick is a proud nerd. While you may be familiar with Stashwick from his recent role as Captain Liam Shaw in Star Trek: Picard, he is no newcomer to acting. A Dungeons and Dragons adventurer and trained comedian, Stashwick is a down-to-earth kinda guy.

In his hometown of the windy city, Stashwick built his acting career on a foundation of improv. His time in improv lead to a successful career in comedy, and where do successful comedians in Chicago go? Second City Improv. Determined to make his mark, Stashwick worked his way up from ticketing to touring for the improv theatre, joining the likes of Tina Fey.

Breaking into the industry is no small feat. Making the right connections and nailing the right performances is challenging, especially for new actors. Stashwick is all too familiar with how inaccessible the industry can be. When the industry was tough on him, he found alternative paths to his roles. “I used to say I always used to have to go in through the back door, the industry was not letting me in the front door”.

While doors may have been closed for him, he is openining them up for the next generation of artists. Stashwick asked himself, “Why don’t I just go build my own? So I created my own shows and my own theater spaces and my own schools of improv or my own book.”

After years of preparation mixed with some opportunity, Stashwick landed his first major role in the live comedy show, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. The series jump-started Stashwick’s career as it took a more dramatic approach to the slapstick comedy dominating TV. But, as a lover of all-things comic books and D&D, it was a matter of time until Stashwick broke into Sci-Fi projects.

During our conversation, Stashwick was in Wisconsin for the annual Dungeons and Dragons convention. The role-playing game colored Stashwick’s childhood and inspires him through his adult life. D&D is nothing to take lightly. Stashwick and his fellow adventurers have been building the same story for the last five years. A story of that length requires creative worldbuilders. Stashwick says,”But, so I think all that stuff and playing Star Wars and playing D&D and playing Star Trek, I think all of that whet my appetite for wanting to be an actor in the first place. Cause I really loved diving into telling stories and diving into characters”.

So much so, that Terry Metals made sure to keep him in mind for his next show, Star Trek: Picard. Stashwick explains, “And then when he [Metals] told me about the character of Shaw in, in Star Trek: Picard they had already had me in mind for the role and were already tailoring the character to what I do as an actor long before I even showed up the first day”.

Starring in a show as iconic as Star Trek, attracts a lot of eyes. Stashwick told us his thoughts on the uptick in publicity he has been experiencing.

“But it is interesting that you know, you cross into a threshold of, of an IP that has such visibility, like Star Trek, and then it does tend to make people go, hang on, where’d that guy come from? I’m like, no, I’ve been here the whole time”

With 30 years of acting under his belt, Stashwick has learned a thing or two about the industry. Though, recent developments in AI could shake up how the show-biz operates. In the last month, we have seen major developments in AI technologies. The most concerning of which is the improvement in AI picture and video generation. With technology like this, sci-fi fantasies don’t seem too distant. As a sci-fi enthusiast, Stashwick had thoughts on this possibility.

“I would love to own my digital image and, then after I die, that it goes to the estates so that people cannot just use it, manipulate it however they want.There’s very little in this world that is ours and this is mine”.

While the future may be unsure. Stashwick is working to make it brighter. Following the loss of a Second City member’s daughter to cancer, he wanted to make a difference in her honor. Since then, Stashwick has run several half marathons raising money for cancer research.

But, his work to improve the future starts at home, with his two kids. The family makes an effort to engage their children in activism.

“We have taken our daughter on the women’s marches, we have exposed her to activism and to show her what’s really at stake. And, it’s important for her to know, the world is one that we make”.

Raising a good human takes a village, and Stashwick credits his wife for some of that work.

Stashwick’s history in fantasy role-playing smoothed the transition into his role as Deacon in the post-apocalyptic show, 12 Monkeys. Initially, his role was scripted for two episodes but, showrunner, Terry Metals saw an opportunity with Deacon and made the character to a series regular. After four seasons, Stashwick found a real footing in 12 Monkeys and built synergy with the writers.

“My wife definitely is two-fisted in that fight to make sure that the future she has is protected. And to teach her that if it isn’t [protected], then it’s your job to fight too”.

Looking to the future of his career, Stashwick isn’t stopping anytime soon. In fact, he says, “And, you know, I’ve said this before, I’m 54 years old, and I’m just getting warmed up”.

LISMORE BL ACK COLLECTION WATERFORD.COM
Will you help us? unicefusa.org/wontstop

Diversity Awards 2023

In recognition of, and to specifically highlight, the role individual women leaders play in shaping and forming the next generation; the energy, experience and expertise used in mentoring today’s millennials into tomorrow’s executives in a more diverse and inclusive environment.

diversity awards

Gena Pemberton

Chief Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Officer

Omnicon

Health Group

“... I believe it’s two sided. You can, as a mentor, learn from the individual through reverse mentorship... ”

Genevieve Dombrowski

LKQ Corp

“... I think women are tired; exhausted of having to explain why we are who we are... we just want to be the people that we are meant to be.. ”
Senior

Sandye Taylor

Diversity, Equity
“...mentorship is both a voluntary and personal give-back. It’s far more genuine, authentic, and vulnerable in those instances ...”

Rachel

“... So lead by doing what’s right, do what aligns with your values... ”
Cirelli
Director, The Center of Career Development Manhattan College

Aisha Wilson-Carter

Equity and Inclusion

HOFSTRA University

“... it’s essential everyone that you have at your company feels a sense of belonging and that you have diverse representation... ”
‘... the best piece of advice I’ve ever been given? Professionally, to be a life-long learner. To be curious, and not to be afraid to ask questions... ”
Tish Mendoza
SVP, Chief Human Resources Officer AES

Kira

Cordoba Brown

“for me, a Moves Mentor is someone who sees mentoring as a part of their leadership DNA, not as an add-on or something they do because it looks good to others. They build up trust with others by demonstrating consistency and transparency... ”

Head of ICG Talent & Diversity Citigroup

Kai Deveraux Lawson

Creative America

“... What people in power do with the knowledge they have is going to be informed by their individual motivations. So in spaces where we continue to see the prevalence of pay inequities, power inequities, and other social disparities; it’s because the people who have the most power and influence are motivated by their greed... ”
SVP Diversity, Equity
Dentsu

Janet Ladd

“... Diversity plays a vital role in mentorship; Mentoring those who hold different marginalized identities provides representation and empowerment... ”

Mary Stutts

“... Corporations...must practice an ethnically balanced leadership where their companies are representative of the population of the countries, the cities, the nations where they exist... ”
CEO Healthcare Businesswomen’s Association

credits:

photographer: tony gale video: cris pena

stylist: alison hernon hair and make up: buffy hernandez daisy curbeon, yoli cotray, anita sweet

Laura Tilley

LTC, MC, Uniformed Services University, US Army

“... mentorship is absolutely critical to my own professional and personal identities. it really does fill my cup... It rejuvenates me as an individual, a leader, a professional, a woman, and a mother... ”

The Photoshoot

Tilley
Laura
WWW.SOLARSTUDIOS.COM TEL: 310 - 489 - 7801
Power Women 2022
The Gala moves power women 2022

The Gala

It’s November, it’s NYC ... and it’s alive again. Moves Power Women Awards Gala returns to Manhattan at the prestigious Mandarin Oriental at Columbus Circle. Amazing Power Women in an amazing setting.

CLIC PLAY TO CHECK OUR 2021 PW GALA Thanks to

Jake McDorman ... He Gets it !

cover story
photography photography alison dyer
“... EQUITY EQUALITY
justice
HUMAN.
tenets
being
We don’t to start same

Tell us about your new show, Peacock’s wild sci-fi series “Mrs. Davis,” and your character Wiley?

Mrs. Davis takes place in an alternate reality not too dissimilar from our own where a seemingly benevolent algorithm has quickly risen to ubiquity across the globe claiming to have ended world hunger, famine, pollution, and war. My character, Wiley, ex-bull rider and exboyfriend of Simone (who is a nun), believe something more nefarious is afoot. They join forces to take Mrs. Davis (the algorithm) down, with the help of a well funded underground resistance made up of bros who watched Fight Club and Mad Max way too often. The tone shifts wildly between comedy and drama, science fiction and fantasy, and every genre in between. Betty has aptly described it as “No Country for Old Looney Tunes.”

How has the film industry changed in the past fifteen years? How do you see it changing in the future?

Yeah I’ve been working in the TV/film industry for twenty years, since I was sixteen. There is so much that’s changed. Probably the most obvious would be the way we consume media. I marched the picket line in solidarity with the WGA during the last writer’s strike in 2007-2008. One of the many things they—and in effect, all of us, were fighting for, was that the compensation for their work keep pace with the rapidly changing technological landscape. Fifteen years ago, this included residuals for the sales of DVDs. Now, fifteen years later? It’s nothing even tangible. And compensation for streaming is only one item on a long list of important changes the WGA are fighting for, but it speaks to how quickly our technological paradigms are shifting and how impossible they are to predict. In the film industry and otherwise. What was once something you could hold in your hand is now floating through the air and constantly competing for your attention.

When did you know you wanted to be an actor? When did you first feel like you ‘made it’?

> I knew pretty young. It was the feeling of being on stage. Overcoming the nerves of something like that. Executing this plan with your cast and feeling the audience react. It’s a thrilling bond. No one in my family is in the industry, so it also came with this very niche, almost exotic community where I grew up outside of Dallas. And since I was so young, I was maybe in second or fourth grade, I don’t think I made the connection right away that what I was doing in theater was a version of what I was seeing on television and in movies. That came later. Not much later. But I’m grateful it came in that order. To have an unfiltered experience of what acting is on stage before you try to chop it up, stretch it, reshape it, contort it, compartmentalize it into these little boxes like we do on screen was invaluable to me. And I don’t know any actor that really feels like they’ve ‘made it.’ I think that definition is constantly being redefined in your mind.

EQUITYand EQUALITY... they’re not just tenets of social justice, they’re tenets of HUMAN. don’t all get start from the same place... ”

You’re involved in a number of social justice movements, is there any one cause you’re particularly passionate about?

Yeah equity and equality. They’re not just tenets of social justice, they’re tenets of being human. We don’t all get to start from the same place. Systematically. We’re evolved enough, we have the power, we have the resources, to identify, adjust, and correct some of these imbalances. Across race, across gender. People are in this fight daily and not usually by choice. So, anytime I can help amplify those efforts, I try to.

What’s the funniest moment you remember from filming Mrs. Davis - or any production?

Oh, good lord there are too many. I think we laughed so hard so many times on this show that we all lost years of our lives trying to contain ourselves. If I had to pick one off the top of my head? Standing in the desert, naked, pants around my ankles, waddling over to Chris Diamantopoulos, while he’s in a G-string, acting deadly serious—I can barely type it without laughing out loud. How absolutely ridiculous.

What’s a dream project of yours that you haven’t gotten to work on yet?

You know, I don’t really have one. Certainly nothing I want to publicly lobby for here...I have to play it cool. You get it, New York Moves. Come on.

Who is an actor/actress you would want to work with? I’ve been very lucky. I’ve worked alongside some tremendous actors. I learn a ton from the people I work with. But if I had to name a couple? Joaquin. And Betty Gilpin again.

Do you have any advice for young actors starting out in the industry?

It really has changed so much from when I was starting out...I’m sure there’s more specific advice out there from someone who really has a beat on how to break in these days. But similar to what I was saying before—and this is just from my personal experience, find a place to do it. Whether its a class in school, a class outside of school, a theater program. You’re really not going to know how you feel about it until you put it on it’s feet. Find a safe place with people who are eager to learn. Where the only expectation is on the work itself. Before it gets muddied by auditions and connections and representation, etc. I spent two or three years in classes before I got an agent. Then another two years before even considering LA. It doesn’t always take that long. But take some time to try it on.

How do you decompress after a long day on set? My dog, Wolf Man. He gets it.

“... My dog, Wolf Man. He gets it... ”

photography:

alison dyer

styling:

kate longarzo

grooming:

lana michelle

lifestyle for city women

debating Chamber

empty words

she don’t lie, she don’t lie, she don’t lie....c******

winter boyfriend...

spring cleaning

why is forbidden fruit always the tastiest

Jake McDorman ... the real deal !

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