Favorite thing to eat: Soup
Favorite to do: Watch movies
Favorite thing to buy: Art supplies
Favorite things to wear: Overalls
Hi, my name is Rafa. I love consuming a lot of media content from movies, to theater, to books, to Youtube. I'm ironic, abrasive, and funny (I think?).
At certain points I had visceral reactions to the things that were happening in the show, a rollercoaster for the empathetic. I was literally ready to maul Chris Evans, verbally abuse Michael Cera, and hold Brian Tyree Henry’s hand and tell him it’ll all be okay. I believe the show presented itself as a question. I was left with a hypothetical that I am to mull over. So, as the curtains closed and the lights dimmed, I was left open ended.
It’s a fun and nonsensical idea to think about, don’t you think? How would you deal with that situation?
Going into the show I had an idea of what this show was going to be like. I mean, it is a play that’s been done time and time again. Seeing as this is a Broadway show I thought it was going to be all glitzy and glamour, but to my surprise it was deconstructed. What I mean, this rendition of The Glass Menagerie was bare boned and raw.
I find that representation matters more than anything. Growing up, I found nothing on mainstream media that told me that who I am, a first generation Muslim American, was good or even acceptable. And of course, as time went on things went to shit and I quickly realized that I would never be represented how I had always dreamed to be.
Almost immediately the whole class quieted down. This girl said that in the most light heartedly way possible, like it was no big deal and she was surrounded by her friends that looked exactly like her.
I was confused, and in all honesty, a little alarmed with myself when I was actually feeling for the obvious villain of the story. When I was on the train ride home thinking about my priorities, in terms of the difference between bad and good, I realized that I felt this way towards the villain because our protagonist felt this way.
I find it really funny how in the show the women had these big elaborate plans to find someone, marry them, and live happily ever after, only to have their plans ruined by those around them.
I know Monica wasn't born into a situation as complicated as mine will be in the future, but her father's and her own take on religion has made me hope for a better future. Maybe my S.O. and I could get by with just teaching our kids to be the best people they can be with the helpful aid of religion, rather than have religion be the driving force of who they become.
This show revolved around a very dysfunctional family. And when I say dysfunctional I don’t mean “a child with divorced parents attending two Christmases” dysfunction. I mean, mother and son in an intimate relationship dysfunction.
Once the show ended I was in shock. I had no idea what to do with myself. The fact that I had just walked into a room, experienced another world, and then was forced to leave and go about the rest of my day as if nothing happened - it felt unreal. I left that tiny little entrance way of the theater, I looked around Union Square, and I looked up at the Daryl Roth Theater and wondered “was that even real?”