January 2016 - HUMANITY Magazine

BRUCE WEBER

Posted on January 26, 2016September 26, 2017 by Taylor Norman

It was autumn in San Clemente, 1989, when I received a phone call at my office by someone wanting to know if Christian Fletcher would be available for an Interview magazine photo shoot by fashion photographer Bruce Weber. This was years before every surf company and surfer was making annual trips to the East Coast for their summer surf “schmooze” session. Christian had been getting a whole lot of press, a lot not so good. We were working on Wave Warriors, Astrodeck and Christian Fletcher Clothing and getting ready for the North Shore. We figured what the heck—how could it hurt to have a little blurb in a magazine made mandatory reading on the New York scene by the famous (or perhaps infamous) Andy Warhol? Probably a great fit for the irreverent, brash, appropriately unapologetic teenage surf star. So the date was set, and the location was to be our home, which coincidently was next door to what had been President Nixon’s Western Whitehouse. The irony was certainly not lost on the mild-mannered Bruce.

He arrived with a few assistants, wardrobe, hair—an entourage of around 10. He was beyond gracious and put us totally at ease by talking about mutual acquaintances he had shot over the years. His knowledge and pure admiration of the whole surf scene was amazing. What started out as perhaps a footnote blossomed into “The Flying Fletchers” and a friendship that has lasted through decades of personal ups and downs that life has a way of hurling at you. Perhaps it’s these valleys of lows that have allowed me to know what a truly great and gifted man Bruce really is.

He has the most extraordinary eye for spotting talent, and I don’t mean superficially, although there is no doubt about that. I mean he senses something inside people, that his genuine interest and pleasure in discovery allows even the most modest to open up and let him in without the fear that their trust will be violated or left unnurtured in any way. It is this rare gift, of being truly interested in others, that I believe is at the heart of all of his work, whether it’s his professional shoots or something completely personal like his film A Letter to True, which he wrote as a love letter to his dog after 9/11 to express the sorrow he felt after losing so many. He’s truly remarkable in his ability to share the extraordinary in what most would glance at briefly and pass by as merely ordinary. His body of work is beyond amazing in its capacity to allow you to see the world through his seasoned eye, one that still has the ability to inspire the rapture of the newly discovered. From his iconic shot of an exquisitely proportioned Olympic athlete in Calvin Klein white briefs to a soft, intimate look at his longtime friend Elizabeth Taylor at home in rollers, each subject is approached with an eye to detail that seems almost sculptural.

Bruce and Tai Santa Barbara, CA 2011. Michael John Murphy

I have had the opportunity to work with him on different projects over the years, from Versace shoots in the Keys and Abercrombie & Fitch catalogs on the beach at my parents’ house to semi-cleaned-up surf thugs on the North Shore for L’Uomo Vogue and an upcoming volume of his All-American book series. These projects allowed us to spend quite a bit of time together. Most of his friends whom I’ve met and am now lucky enough to consider more than mere acquaintances are the friends from his childhood and his early career. There is never a moment when he’s not available to give someone a word of encouragement or call back, even if he’s had a 4:30 a.m. wake-up call and wrapped at 8 p.m. He’ll have a bite to eat and share the stories of the day before retiring to edit and make the series of calls to friends who just need to hear his reassuring voice before catching a couple hours of much-needed sleep to start the process all over again at the crack of dawn.

The Official Meeting of the Montana Rolleiflex Camera Club McLeod, MT 1997

His generosity knows no bounds, and there is usually a gathering around Nan’s birthday, his wife and loving partner of more than 25 years, of perhaps his 50 closest friends and neighbors, in which every detail has been seen to, all the way down to the proper towels hanging on the line separating the cottages on the lake of a fish camp somewhere in upstate New York. It’s pure perfection, with the full moon reflecting on the water and Eartha Kitt sprawled on top of the piano under the stars singing “Happy Birthday.”

John John Florence Eating Breakfast Oahu, HI 2005

Spending a few days as a guest in Weber World, no matter where in the world that may be, was beyond what I could have ever imagined. Books on every subject were everywhere, the smell of flowers heavy in the air. Sheets so crisp and clean they felt sun-dried, beautiful handcrafted furniture, sweaters, rugs and tooled bags were all a backdrop for the most magnificent photo collection, made that much more spectacular by the completely unpretentious casual display. To say I was/am awestruck is probably a gross understatement, but never had I seen the love of beauty so wonderfully and approachably on display and generously shared. It is uniquely humbling.

He gives tirelessly to charity, supports almost every animal shelter, creates stars from the unknown and spends his few off moments shooting rolls of film of his five blond beauties—his prized golden retrievers—and one black mix rescue dog for relaxation. This is the man I know, and my life has been enriched beyond measure having him as my friend.

—

RETURN TO THE HOME PAGE

VISIT CITIZENSOFHUMANITY.COM

YOKO ONO

Posted on January 25, 2016February 27, 2018 by Taylor Norman

HUMANITY: What was it like for you growing up—your upbringing, your parents, growing up in Japan?

YOKO ONO: My family was rather unique. My grandmother went to a French school, in Japan. She was part of a very important feminist group. In England at the time, there was a feminist movement known as the Blue Stockings. Around the same time, there was an important feminist group in Japan called Blue Steps. I am sure that it was named after the English one. My grandmother was one of them. She was very, very strong and she really pushed boundaries. My mother on the other hand was an equally strong woman but expressed her strength in a more complex way than my grandmother.

HUMANITY: So you took after your grandmother.

And my mother: I learned from both of them.

HUMANITY: But you grew up in Japan, right?

YO: I was born in Japan and lived in Tokyo until I was about 2 and a half years old. My father went to the United States just before I was born. Yes. And my mother was very upset about it. I heard from the relatives that my mother cried. I was probably upset too, in her tummy. I think he just could not face it all, you know—the fact that he was going to be a father. Some men are like that. He was just concentrating on his own life. Music and mathematics. Mathematicians from other countries used to send him notes to ask mathematic questions. He was also a good pianist and would make comments to me like: “When you play the piano, you have to continue playing until you finish the work.” And he would not say much else to me.

HUMANITY: Was your family supportive of your art?

YO: My mother was an accomplished painter. So both my parents were very high-minded about art. I always felt very guilty that I did not become any of what they wanted me to become. My father was the first person who introduced Malevich’s work to Japan. But for his daughter, he was hoping that I would not be avant-garde. They never showed their disappointment. The way I knew was that they never came to any of my concerts. And when John and I got married [in Gibraltar], I knew they wouldn’t come to that either.

HUMANITY: What do you think triggered your creativity? What made you want to express yourself and make things to share?

YO: It’s something that came very simply to me. I just liked it. It’s just something that agrees with my brain and body.

HUMANITY: I was reading your book [Just Me, published in Japanese], the part where you talk about your daughter [Kyoko]. You expressed how you were not ready to be a mother—you were still an artist and you were still making music. I felt that you were so honest to who you are as a person.

YO: I was never ready to be a mother. It is amazing that there are many women who don’t feel like they want to be a mother. And so I wanted to say something about it.

HUMANITY: So what is your perspective on being a mother?

YO: Well, I think there’s a very clear message from the male society that women have to have children, otherwise the human race is going to disappear. So they keep saying “What a beautiful thing you’re doing,” you know, and “Women love to be mothers!” and “Women love to have children!” I just remembered that there was this English woman who was working for my mother, and whenever I would visit my mother, this woman always seemed very stiff, very angry. I said to her one day, “Is there something that you don’t like in life?” and she said, “My husband gets me pregnant every year so that I won’t leave him.” And I remembered that. I guess some men used to do that, you know, keep their wives pregnant. Can you imagine?

HUMANITY: I can’t.

YO: A terrible, terrible thing to do to someone. I think that was rather convenient for the human race. In fact I have two children, and they are very kind, very good children, so I’m very lucky. Babies are so cute. So you can’t help falling in love with them.

HUMANITY: Did you feel you were always more devoted to your art?

YO: I just felt so much better when I was working on something creative, and before I had children people would say to me, “What about having kids? That’s creative.” I really didn’t think so. I really think some people like to create that way, but I didn’t.

HUMANITY: Then why did you decide to have another baby, to have Sean? Was it planned?

YO: It’s a funny thing. John was so adamant about having a child with me. He would say, “We have to have a child. We have to.” I ended up having some miscarriages, and everyone said, “Oh, she can’t hold it.” I mean, that’s a very English expression, I think. “She just can’t hold it.” Luckily we had Sean. I remember John was crazy and wanted to announce it right away. But because of the miscarriages I said, “This time, don’t announce it, OK?” But then around the third or fourth month he said, “Now it’s safe.” I didn’t know if it was safe or not, but we announced it. John was so proud about it, it was amazing, and he tried to show to other guys “it’s fun to have kids.” And that really helped the whole world. Isn’t that amazing?

HUMANITY: How did you and John inspire each other creatively?

YO: That’s like a miracle, you know. Because I always felt that most men were dumb. I don’t want to insult my two previous husbands—they were nice people, very sensitive, and they were talented too. Toshi was very protective of me, and Tony was very good in assisting me. John used to say that: “She thinks all men are assistants!” Which was how I looked at it. So when I met John, I realized that he was not dumb at all. I thought it was so interesting that he was so different from the idea that I had about men at the time. That they could be very talented but so stiff in their ideas, but John wasn’t. He went with anything that came to him that he thought was interesting, and we hit it off.

HUMANITY: So was it easy for you and John to support each other with your art while also being partners and having a family?

YO: For me, as a woman, being supportive of him is a normal thing. Most women do that for their husbands or partners. But for men to support the woman in her endeavors, like John did for me, was very unusual at the time.

HUMANITY: Since John’s death have you had any other relationships? When I see your performances, I see you are a very sexual person, and I just wondered, what about intimacy?

YO: Well, you know, it’s a real problem. I’ll tell you that I’m thinking about many different aspects of my life in balance. And I make sure that I am working to bring a better society. It really means a lot of work, and if you don’t have somebody who is totally into it, it doesn’t work. I just haven’t met anybody that is so adamant about the kind of things that I am adamant about. And if I don’t have somebody like that, it would be just a waste of my time. Sex is a different story. But for me it is not separate. Some people might think that it is so old-fashioned, but I don’t want to have sex without a certain mental and spiritual understanding between a person and me. I’m like that. I don’t go for a one-night-stand kind of thing.

HUMANITY: You and John had an “art baby,” where you made music together, and you had an actual baby. You two really had everything together. Not everybody finds that in their lifetime.

YO: Exactly. Well, we didn’t think that that was the kind of relationship we were going to have. John, being a guy, was more practical than me. He said, “To make the relationship last, we have to do something both of us will be involved in.” He said, “I know, a big film! … There’s so many things we have to do for it, there is no time to think.” Well, we never did it, though.

HUMANITY: My favorite quote by you is: “A dream you dream alone is only a dream, but a dream two people dream together is reality.” It’s so beautiful.

YO: Thank you. I was writing many things before that and after, but that one about dreaming was inspired by our relationship. By the 10th year, John was saying a relationship can be very good and we have to tell them that. You know, “After 10 years, it’s gonna be so good!” I agreed.

HUMANITY: What are the messages you want to share with the world right now?

YO: I think that imagining things can really bring reality, and I believe in that. “IMAGINE PEACE” is very important to me, and that’s what I am working for. “Wish Tree” is another one. When I was a little girl and I would go to the temple in Japan, they had bushes with messages. You could buy the printed message and put it on the tree. Messages like “Health” or “Love,” just printed. So it’s not the message of that person. I believe that it is important that the person think about it from their heart. So I did this by believing in audience participation. The first “Wish Tree” I did was in Los Angeles in 1996, and the next one was in 1997 in Alicante, Spain. And then it was a surprise; people who never go to museums were queuing up to put their wish on the “Wish Tree.” So now all the wishes are collected, it’s over a million, and it will be more, but the 1 million wishes are under the IMAGINE PEACE TOWER [in Iceland]. Every year we shoot up the light, and I think it is helping a little.

HUMANITY: Who are some other people who inspire you?

YO: Everybody is an artist in a way, and it’s great that people can open up and create their own thing. Which will help all of us and our world.

HUMANITY: What other projects are you working on now and in the future?

YO: I will be having a beautiful show in NYC from December 11 to January 23. And early 2016 we will release Yes, I’m a Witch Too.

HUMANITY: Are there any current issues you want to comment on?

YO: “Don’t Let Your Eyes Dry” is something I put on IMAGINE PEACE.com. We are getting very nonchalant about the violent situations in the world that are reported every day. So our eyes are getting dry. There is a coffee shop in Jerusalem that, after a big conflict between the Israelis and Palestinians, gave a discount to people who came in together and ate together, Israeli and Palestinian together at the same table. I thought it was so beautiful and I started crying. And I thought, “OK, my eyes are still not dry.” Don’t let your eyes dry.

—

RETURN TO THE HOME PAGE

VISIT CITIZENSOFHUMANITY.COM

ANTHONY KIEDIS

Posted on January 20, 2016April 9, 2018 by Taylor Norman

HUMANITY: The Red Hot Chili Peppers, your sound, your style—everything is so L.A. What does it mean to be an L.A. native? What do you love about L.A.?

ANTHONY KIEDIS: Well, it depends on your definition of a native. I was born in the state of Michigan and actually selected L.A. as my city of choice at 11 years old. After coming out here to visit my father in the late ’60s and early ’70s, I kind of weighed the cultural experiences between the Midwest and the West Coast. I was really enchanted. Los Angeles put a spell on me as a kid with its energy, and I think it does that to people. There’s something about the desert, the electricity, the palm trees—just the promise that anything is possible. That hit me like a ton of bricks, and by 1973 I made my way to L.A., which was a completely different animal at that time relative to 2015. But there is that thread that it hasn’t lost, which is, this is where you come to explore your dream; whether or not the dream comes true, you fail miserably or somewhere in between, or you find another dream you didn’t even know was waiting for you, that thread maintains. I give credit to the enchanting vibe of this place, the inherent nature of Los Angeles and its valley, its mountains, its desert and its coyotes. It’s kind of a magical trickery.

HUMANITY: What do you think has changed? What do you miss?

AK: The things that I miss are kind of at an energetic level and they have to do with things moving at a different pace, where you can pay closer attention to your own thoughts and the things that are going on around you. When I first came here it was slower and more psychedelic. The atmosphere, the air, the streets, the walking, the skateboarding, the colors, the fashion, the music—everything moved at a pace where you could kind of take it in, contemplate and create; it was a more natural, organic interaction with yourself and things around you.

HUMANITY: What have been the lessons of fatherhood?

AK: Whoa! I’m right in the middle of that book, so more will be revealed, but … I guess one thing it’s taught me is that I never really knew what love was all about until I had a son. I was in love with all kinds of different things, but I never knew what that deepest, most sacrificial, unconditional, to-die-for love was really all about. I would do anything, give anything for the betterment of his experience. It’s taught me to care less about myself and more about someone else. The ongoing lessons are things like patience and not being judgmental and full of expectations, like: “Oh, I want him to turn out this way,” or I want him to be this or to be that. You kind of have to just see where he’s going and try to help him with that. It’s so hilarious, because we grew up on the other side of that dynamic, just wondering what our parents were tripping about all the time—“Why are they so hypersensitive and care so much?” And then you get to fatherhood and you understand.

HUMANITY: When a parent has the kind of success that you have had it can really add a lot of pressure. How do you not let your success overshadow him?

AK: That’s a great question. I guess it has to do with the way you act around your kid. I try to show him all sides of life and let him know where I come from. From the very beginning I let him know that whatever he wants in life he has to earn, because if I give it to him it’s not going to mean anything. And I think, even though he’s only 8 years old, he’s slowly starting to understand that it’s all about working for what you have, working for your experience, in order to enjoy and appreciate it and feel accomplished and fulfill your dreams. I never wanted to be one of those parents who just spoils; that doesn’t allow my son to go have his own trials, tribulations, failures, experiments and journeys of self. It’s totally on me to provide that. I think I’m also kind of lucky, because he was born his own person, like whenever I try to get him to do what I like to do, he’ll say: “Dad, that’s your thing, that’s not my thing. I want to do my thing.” So far he feels no pressure. It’s so unfair when children feel like they have to live up to something. They don’t have to live up to shit, they just have to live their own lives.

HUMANITY: You’ve been so open about your battles with addiction, and presumably addiction is hereditary. Is it ever scary for you to think about—that this may be a battle for Everly?

AK: It crosses my mind from time to time, but it’s not one of those weird lingering worries that I have. Every now and then I see a kid struggling with addiction, and I know their parents had struggled with addiction, and that will be interesting to see where Everly goes with that. But I don’t think it’s a guarantee that a child gets that particular gene. It’s kind of the luck of the draw. He’s chosen such a bizarre combination of his mother and father’s genes so far that I feel like it’s a real 50-50 whether or not he’ll end up dealing with addiction. I think he’ll grow up in a world where he’s not surrounded by addictive behavior, or addictively inspired dysfunctional behavior, so hopefully he has kind of a strong emotional basis to begin with, a solid family and emotional foundation to fall back on. If it happens, it would be difficult but like many bridges, I’ll cross that one when I get to it.

HUMANITY: It’s pretty well documented the relationship you had with your father, and what you were exposed to at a young age. What are some of the lessons you learned that you’re applying in your relationship with your son? And then on the flipside, the relationship you had with your mom was definitely more traditional. Talk about that balance, and what you’re applying that you learned from them to parenthood.

AK: I’m such a different person at this point in my life than my father was when he was raising me, but there are still tons of similarities. For example, I’m a single father, so it’s just my son and me living under this roof. However, he was just very wrapped up in his own lifestyle when I was young and impressionable. He had very creative interests, but I think it’s about what not to share with a young person. He wasn’t able to slow down and contemplate how fragile a young heart can be. It was too much too soon. Me raising my son is a wildly different experience. We live in the countryside, we wake up next to the ocean, we do homework together in the morning, we exercise together, we go for long walks together. It’s kind of this other-end-of-the-spectrum experience compared with my own childhood. And my son seems to love it. He really thrives on it—he thrives on the fresh air, the ocean, the trees and all this stuff I did not grow up around. I always thought he would want to have a place in the city, and he says: “Why would I? It’s so great out here!” I still introduce him to some things my father introduced me to but live more of the reliable life that my mother offered me. In retrospect, if I look at my mother, she went to work every single day of her life. She’s so together and she just inspires me. She travels the world and takes care of her loved ones, whereas my father was much more that hippie, free-flowing, maybe-I’ll-work-maybe-I-won’t but was part of a lot of great experiences. And my stepfather was probably the most honest and caring person that I’ve ever known. He died very young, but his influence on my family is visible every single day. So I guess I’m trying to give Everly a little combo platter.

HUMANITY: What do you think the difference has been this last time—why has sobriety stuck for you now?

AK: It’s been a complicated run for me. As soon as I got introduced to the concept of getting well from an addiction I loved it, because I had done this using thing to death, so when I got offered a solution, I jumped all over it years ago. But you know, it takes work and dedication, and after five years I ended up relapsing, kind of going in and out for the next five years, and that’s fucked up. So when I finally got back into it in 2000, I loved being sober, so I embraced it and I realized I have to do some things differently than I did the previous time. I made little adjustments and I tried to surround myself with like-minded people, so that I have constant reminders that the more energy I put into that, I get back 100-fold.

HUMANITY: You said something that stuck with me, that when you first went to rehab you’d see all these people that looked so different on the outside from you, but you’re actually able to see yourself in every one. And it helps with finding compassion—it’s a simple idea, to have compassion for someone else, but a rare practice.

AK: My ability to actually experience compassion comes and goes. There could be part of the day where somebody passed me up on the PCH and I’m like, “I’m going to teach them a lesson.” Something idiotic and chaotic like that. Or if I just slow down a little bit and get into that mindset that I don’t know what that person is going through. If you just pretend like everybody out there is a family member, it’s really hard to go to that place where you’re like: “I’m going to get you.” It’s about checking yourself and slowing down a little bit. I go to meetings, so I can slow down and listen to the story of somebody else. Maybe a 21-year-old girl who’s been shooting dope for the last two years of her life and is in complete hell and lost herself and then she gets a week clean and she’s in a meeting sharing about not being able to find a vein in her neck. And I’m like, yes, I do remember that desperation. That’s no good. I now feel connected to this person because I see and feel the suffering in the fact that I got one little glimpse of not having to live like that today, in this little 24-hour segment. So my life kind of depends on showing up and listening to other people’s experiences, and maybe that gives me an opportunity to actually feel a moment of true compassion. It’s work.

HUMANITY: How has your creative process changed over the years?

AK: It’s strikingly similar in many ways. There are so many different stages that I have to try and be available in the creative process. We’ll have band practice and improvise—I listen and kind of lose myself and find melody and find rhythm in the moment. Then there’s the songwriting process, where the guys will give me an instrumental recording and I have to sit with that music. Then there’s the part where you’re just in the car and you get an idea, and you have to pull over and work on the idea because that idea might never come again. You’re on an airplane, or a train, whatever—whenever you feel that little tiny cloud moving through you that has some energy and some ideas. One thing I learned is to seize that, because you can say: “Oh, I’ll remember that!” Sometimes I’m out there waiting for waves to come and I’ll get a great idea or a mediocre idea or maybe a couple of melodies that string together, and I’ll sit there and try to sing it over and over a hundred times so that I won’t forget. And then I get into my car; I’ll break out the phone and record it. That part has changed, being able to record everything on your cell phone is different than it was 25 years ago, when you had to have a funky little tape recorder with you wherever you went. I’m a morning writer—I get up in the morning, clear the house out and get out my notebooks and my pencils and my CDs and my boom box and I’ll just sit there and write. I find that the more regimented I can be in putting a few hours of work in every day, the more benefits I reap when it comes to writing good songs. It’s like a painter that forces himself to paint every day, just hoping that could be the day it happens. I believe to be good you have to work hard. It’s the same with Flea; he practices constantly. He’s been playing bass his whole life, but he’s no good unless he practices every day.

HUMANITY: Do you ever feel pressure about getting older and still being a relevant musician?

AK: Pressure, no. Aware that it’s difficult to maintain relevance, yes. I’m hyper aware of that. We don’t have that pressure to be the next cool thing, because we’re never going to be the next cool thing. We’ve done that. I pay attention to my favorite songwriters, and they’re way smarter and way better at writing songs than I could ever be. You know, like Paul McCartney, Neil Young, Randy Newman are all just phenomenally gifted singers and songwriters; however, none of them have really been able to create real greatness in their older years compared to what they were doing in their 20s and 30s. And I always wondered, “Why?” They’re still talented, they’re still smart, they’re still in love with music; they haven’t given up in any way, shape or form, but they’re not writing songs like they used to. Every now and then they’ll stumble upon a gem, and their live shows are still incredible. I guess it’s a cycle—it’s almost impossible to write music that crushes and touches people’s hearts in that way once you’ve made it. Once you can afford a house, another house over there and another over there, it’s like that weird fine line of comfort changing you. You look back at the lifestyle of all these people back when they were writing songs that you and I will go sing later today while we’re driving around in our car, and they weren’t that comfortable. And it’s just, how do you stay great and relevant and interesting and as good as you used to be when you’re that comfortable and have other responsibilities and distractions? It’s hard. But it gives me hope when I hear a Paul McCartney song that he did in the last couple of years that reminds me of who he is deep down inside. Not that he’s got anything to prove—he’s already given the world more great songs than anybody else I can think of, but it makes me happy that he’s still able to do it.

HUMANITY: It must be a hard thing to stay humble and grounded. I read in your book about the importance of going to AA meetings and stacking chairs afterward—surprised me that you do that …

AK: Humble and grounded some days, and then some days arrogant and up in the clouds. The chair stacking is more meaningful, more powerful, more relevant, more life saving than you could ever imagine. I’m laughing because my commitment is stacking the chairs, and I cannot tell you the amount of satisfaction I get from those chairs—that’s my single-minded purpose for this evening, making sure that those chairs are stacked. It’s just being of service, being one of the wolves in the pack. It’s being present for myself and for somebody else. It’s all work in progress. I have good days where I’m connected to my humility and it feels amazing, and I have other days where I just cannot find my humility and I walk around expecting the world to fall at my feet. And that’s no fun.

HUMANITY: Do you have a mantra?

AK: I do lean heavily on the desire to be a kind person. Which takes work for me, because I can be confrontational, and I can be full of myself, but I do have the sneaking suspicion that at the end of it all, when everybody stops, the degree of your kindness is really going to be the thing that shapes your next experience. That’s what I’d like to attain within my active and silent mantra.

HUMANITY: What’s happiness to you?

AK: I find happiness in the simplest, littlest things ever. It’s nothing to do with grandiosity but everything to do with simplicity. For instance, holding my boy this morning—doesn’t get any better than that. That’s my happiness. Watching the sun come up, that’s my happiness. Being on my surfboard, touching the surface of the ocean, that’s my happiness. Popping in a CD with the new song my band’s been working on, that’s my happiness. Calling my father, hearing his voice on the phone, getting excited about calling him, that’s my happiness. Reading a book for my son at dinner, that’s my happiness. It’s kind of everywhere, all around me, if I’m right with myself. If I’m wrong with myself, I’m not finding it anywhere.

HUMANITY: What are you most thankful for?

AK: What am I thankful for? Everything. It’s all a gift, it’s all happening for a reason and I’m thankful for all of it. I complain about it: I got sick two weeks ago, and I never get sick. I was so pissed off—I can’t surf, I can’t sing, I’m achy. But now I’m thankful I had two weeks to think about this. Two weeks of not running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I just slowed down, chilled out, stayed home with Everly, worked on lyrics. So in retrospect maybe I needed to get sick. I’m thankful for everything.

—

RETURN TO THE HOME PAGE

VISIT CITIZENSOFHUMANITY.COM

ELMO

Posted on January 16, 2016September 28, 2017 by Taylor Norman

HUMANITY: How old are you?

ELMO: Elmo is 3½ years old. Elmo’s Mommy helped Elmo type all these answers.

HUMANITY: What are your favorite foods?

E: Strawberries. They’re so sweet and delicious … and red … like Elmo.

HUMANITY: Favorite games to play?

E: Elmo loves to play games with Elmo’s friends. Just this morning Elmo was playing hide-and-seek with Abby Cadabby. Elmo never found her. Elmo hopes Abby’s still not hiding!

HUMANITY: What are some of your favorite things about living on Sesame Street?

E: It’s wonderful living on Sesame Street. There are so many different people, and monsters, and animals all living together. We learn a lot and we all have a great time.

HUMANITY: What are some of the best lessons your mommy and daddy have taught you?

E: Elmo’s Mommy and Daddy always tell Elmo that it doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like, everyone wants to play and learn and be loved. That’s a great lesson!

HUMANITY: What are the qualities you look for in a friend? What do you like most about your friends?

E: Elmo just wants Elmo’s friends to be kind and happy.

HUMANITY: What does it mean to be a good friend?

E: Elmo thinks a good friend is someone you can trust. Elmo’s best friend is Elmo’s pet goldfish Dorothy. Elmo tells Dorothy everything and she never tells anyone.

HUMANITY: So many interesting and talented people have come to visit Sesame Street. Who stands out—and why?

E: Elmo loves when people visit Sesame Street. Elmo loved planting a garden with Big Bird and Mrs. Michelle Obama. She was really cool.

HUMANITY: Is there anyone you haven’t met that you’d like to? How come?

E: Are you kidding? Umm HELLO! It’s no secret—Elmo would love to meet Ms. Adele.

HUMANITY: What’s your best advice for staying positive?

E: Lots of sleep. Elmo always makes sure to take a nap every day.

HUMANITY: If someone is mean to you, what do you do? How do you deal with bullies?

E: If Elmo felt like someone was being mean to Elmo or any of his friends, Elmo would make sure to tell a grown-up. It’s very important to tell a grown-up, like a parent or a teacher, if someone isn’t treating you nicely.

HUMANITY: Why is it so important to treat others kindly and with respect?

E: Elmo thinks you should treat people the way that you want to be treated.

HUMANITY: One of the things about Sesame Street I think is so cool is that everyone is so different but all good friends—it must be fun to learn from each other. What are some of the things you’ve learned from your friends on Sesame Street?

E: That’s the best part about living on Sesame Street. People are always stopping by, and Elmo and his friends are always learning new things. Just the other day Ms. Lupita Nyong’o visited and taught Elmo all about how beautiful different skin colors are. She’s right … they’re all beautiful.

HUMANITY: Can you tell me a little about Julia? What have you learned from her? How is she different than you?

E: Julia is Elmo’s friend with autism. She doesn’t like loud noises, but she loves playing. Elmo speaks a little quieter when Elmo is with Julia—we have such fun together.

HUMANITY: Is it important to be understanding of people’s differences?

E: Yes. Even though we’re all a little different, we’re all the same in many ways too.

HUMANITY: What do you love most about … Abby?

E: She’s great at rhyming. She’s a poet … and she doesn’t even know it. Ha ha ha.

HUMANITY: Big Bird?

E: He’s 8 feet taller than Elmo.

HUMANITY: Oscar?

E: You should see the inside of his can. It’s amazing, but pinch your nose—it’s stinky in there.

HUMANITY: Grover?

E: No matter how many times he makes a mistake, he always tries his hardest.

HUMANITY: Cookie Monster?

E: He would share his last cookie with a friend.

HUMANITY: Bert and Ernie?

E: Ernie puts bananas in his ears and Bert has a bottle cap collection … isn’t that so cool?

HUMANITY: Snuffy?

E: His snuffle is like a fun slide. Wahoooo!

HUMANITY: Raya?

E: She has the coolest sandals ever.

HUMANITY: What’s something about you people should know?

E: When Elmo grows up, Elmo wants to be a teacher. Teachers are the best.

—

RETURN TO THE HOME PAGE

VISIT CITIZENSOFHUMANITY.COM

SESAME STREET

Posted on January 15, 2016March 12, 2018 by Taylor Norman

Five years old and HIV positive, Kami is one of the most influential figures in her native South Africa. She also happens to be a Muppet and a character on Takalani Sesame, the country’s co-production of Sesame Street, which reaches up to 70 percent of children in South Africa’s urban areas and 50 percent in its rural ones. In addition to destigmatizing HIV/AIDS, Kami also educates children on the basics of her disease, including how it’s transmitted and how to deal with grief and the loss of a loved one.

As an indigenous puppet, Kami joins a unique cast of characters around the globe, developed to tackle issues affecting children or particular communities. In the 46 years since Sesame Street first aired on PBS, the preschool television series has become the go-to address for children in more than 150 countries. Through 30 international co-productions, such as Iftah Ya Simsim in Kuwait, Sesamstrasse in Germany and India’s Galli Galli Sim Sim, Sesame Street’s longstanding credo of helping kids grow smarter, stronger and kinder continues to resonate around the world.

Whether it’s a domestic production or a co-production overseas, Sesame Workshop, the nonprofit behind Sesame Street, takes a very mindful and studied approach to developing content. “What people don’t realize is how well researched the show is,” says Carol-Lynn Parente, who grew up watching the show and started out lugging tapes as a post-production assistant, working her way up to her current position as senior vice president and executive producer of Sesame Street.

In addition to overseeing all Sesame Street content across all platforms from the company’s New York City headquarters, Parente is responsible for international co-productions and outreach production. “The process starts off with an entire educational content seminar, where we bring in academic advisors and early-childhood-development experts and they talk about what our curriculum focus is for the season, so we can really understand what we want to teach and in the right way for the age of our audience.” Content is tested before it goes on the air and after, and tweaked and adjusted accordingly. “It’s been the most heavily researched and tested show in history,” she adds.

Internationally, the process also involves partnering with ministries of education as well as broadcasters, producers and educators on the ground. “Across the board we look at what are the most pressing needs facing children around the world where we are most uniquely qualified to make a difference. We look at our skill set and their needs and figure out where they match,” says Sherrie Westin, executive vice president of global impact and philanthropy at Sesame Workshop. Westin stresses the importance of working with local partners on the ground to identify issues on an ongoing basis. Takalani Sesame, for example, was already on the air when the South African Ministry of Education approached Sesame Workshop about discussing issues surrounding HIV and AIDS. “The reason [these shows] translate so powerfully is we don’t try to parachute American cultural lessons,” says Parente. “In South Africa, there was a real need to connect on HIV/AIDS.” In season two, Kami joined the cast after lengthy discussions and research on everything from her outfits to her personality (“We want little girls to see themselves in her but also be aspirational,” says Westin). In breaking down the stigmas surrounding HIV/AIDS, Westin believes that Kami is bound to have saved lives.

That power is also evident in places like Egypt, where a charming peach-colored girl monster named Khokha on Alam Simsim is already changing attitudes about young girls’ roles and responsibilities. In just a few years since her debut, research has not only demonstrated a positive shift in how girls see themselves, but young boys also tested much higher on gender equity. “It’s essential for us to change cultural norms in a nonthreatening way,” says Westin. “To open minds and to change attitudes is really powerful, especially when you are starting with the youngest generation.”

Westin hopes to see that same shift in mentality in Afghanistan, where an indigenous puppet will make her debut on Baghch-e-Simsim in 2016 as part of an initiative to promote girls’ empowerment and education. Since the show’s premiere in 2011, focus groups and qualitative research have already showed fathers changing their minds about sending their daughters to school. “We are not only reaching girls that have no other means of quality preschool education; we are giving them the tools for education and for being aspirational role models,” says Westin.

But it’s not just international markets that have a need for these role models and attitude shifts; Sesame Workshop remains focused on its domestic audience, too, where past programs have dealt with issues ranging from incarceration to healthy eating habits. In 2006, “Talk, Listen, Connect” was introduced as a bilingual (Spanish and English) outreach initiative designed to help military families and young children cope with issues surrounding deployment and change. The immensely successful program—which saw Elmo’s dad being deployed—has continued to expand, growing to include “Military Families Near and Far,” a designated website for young children to connect with their loved ones, as well as PBS prime-time specials and “Sesame Rooms,” which provides toys and furniture to military spaces.

Most recently the workshop introduced Julia, an animated preschool character with autism. She’s leading the charge on Sesame Street’s newest initiative, “See Amazing in All Children,” designed to destigmatize and raise awareness about autism, a disorder that affects one in 68 American children. “It’s a difficult subject,” explains Parente. “Many people want to support this community and don’t know how. We were very thoughtful and took our time figuring out how we as a media company could have an impact.” The digital project, the result of three years of production and testing, includes a “Sesame and Autism” website/iPad app, video topics for affected kids and families, daily routine cards to help with basic skills like washing hands and brushing teeth and an interactive storybook that introduces Julia to some of the Sesame Street gang.

“Every character is designed toward a curriculum goal. Everyone here takes the time to understand what it is, the problem they want to address and what are the best approaches,” says Louis Henry Mitchell, creative director of character design for Sesame Workshop, who has been with the company for 23 years (he came on board full-time in 2000). In addition to his regular roles and responsibilities (which range from directing photo shoots to assisting in the creation of Sesame Street’s Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade balloons and floats), Mitchell was tasked with designing Julia—basing his sketches off a girl he befriended while volunteering at a school for autism. “I gave three different designs, and a committee of people working together decided who would be the best representation. The one I wanted is the one they chose,” he says, proud that his gut instinct served him well.

“Wherever the characters appear, I have to make sure they look right,” says Mitchell, who co-created Kami’s look and helps oversee and evolve character design according to the standards set forth by Muppets creator Jim Henson. Artists around the world looking to draw or sculpt the characters can refer to several in-house style guides. “The eye focus is probably the single most important piece. Whether it’s still life or sculpture or drawings, the eyes are where the life is.”

As important as the finely tuned international cast of characters is the platform on which their heartfelt and engaging messages are delivered. “The evolving media environment has changed the way we produce content enormously,” says Parente, citing a large percentage of Sesame Street’s audience that now watches the show on mobile technology. As a result, the show has adapted its visual style (wide shots, for example, don’t translate well on mobile devices). The producers also create material specifically for YouTube, for example, as well as online gaming content with educational benefits. “I feel like some of the new platforms mirror what [Sesame Street co-founder] Joan Cooney stated in 1969, that she was using television as an experimental way to teach. An innovation lab is dealing with all the emerging technologies and figuring out how to use them.”

And in communities where technology is limited or access to television is restricted, the show has also found ways to reach young viewers: In countries like Afghanistan, Baghch-e-Simsim also airs on the radio, and in Bangladesh, a traveling rickshaw fitted with a television brings the show Sisimpur to children in urban slum communities.

Also of note is who is watching the content with the children, so if you think Sesame Street content is created only with preschoolers in mind, think again. “Back when the show started there was a lot more co-viewing that went on,” says Parente, referencing television as the primary medium during the show’s early days. “We know the educational impact is deeper when children are co-viewing.” So it’s no surprise that over the years, the show has seen a star-spangled list of celebrity guests, ranging from Stevie Wonder to Johnny Cash, Adam Sandler to Katy Perry. “These days there’s lots of viewing with tablets and devices that are individual, but it’s important for us to still find those moments—whether it’s with a celebrity or the comedy of a piece,” she adds.

Meanwhile, back in the U.S., Sesame Workshop inked a deal with HBO to begin broadcasting new seasons of the show in late 2015. The partnership brings a sustainable funding model to the nonprofit, and episodes will run first on the premium cable network before airing on PBS, Sesame Street’s original home, nine months later.

However preschoolers around the world get to their own version of Sesame Street, the destination is one and the same: a warm and engaging place where young children not only learn the basics about numeracy, literacy and social and emotional skills but can also develop a sense of empowerment and belonging in a culturally sensitive environment. “They think it’s fantasyland but it’s real,” says Mitchell with a smile. “I work here every day. I know it’s real.”

—

RETURN TO THE HOME PAGE

VISIT CITIZENSOFHUMANITY.COM

Newsletter