baby's in black and i'm feeling blue.

15 minutes to profile a classmate

The Trip That Changed Her Life

Growing up in Flatbush, Brooklyn, Melanie Castell was
exposed to a lot of culture at a young age. But it was the six months
in South Africa that opened her eyes to a bigger world.

Melanie Castell sits on the outer fringe of the round table,
occasionally offering a well spoken, thoughtful comment to class
discussion. Roughed up black cowboy boots peek out of the bottom of
her flowy blue maxi dress. Her buttery, clear Panamanian skin is
glowing without a smudge of makeup. A natural short haircut and big
tribal earrings complete her look, which has undoubtedly been
influenced by her time in South Africa.

Just a few months ago, Melanie was sitting on the beach in Durban,
South Africa. She studied journalism there for a semester and was
never homesick. “I wish I stayed there for a year!” she says. The
experience opened her mind to different media outlets such as Al
Jazeera, which is respected more in Africa than it is the United
States. “We’re just very into our own borders,” she says of Americans.
“We don’t really go beyond them.” After being exposed to the grittier
and poorer areas of Africa in the media, she was surprised by all of
its beauty. “I had friends from Zimbabwe who would show me pictures of
their homes. It wasn’t a hut. People weren’t running around with no
shoes on. It’s just like living in New York City. There’s bad parts
and there’s good parts. It’s like if they [the media] only showed the
projects. There’s so much beauty there but it’s kind of hard to see
when you’re bombarded by these images.”

Melanie met friends with whom she formed a “genuine bond,” but she
also witnessed the country’s color issues firsthand. “There was a big
outdoor area on the campus. All the Indian kids would see at one
table, the blacks would sit at another, and the whites at another. And
it wasn’t because they didn’t like each other, it’s because they
didn’t know how to interact with each other. My best friend in South
Africa was a German girl named Edna. People would stare at us like,
‘How did you guys become friends?’ We’re so over the race issue in our
culture, but the apartheid ended in 1994 there, so it’s fresh for
them.”

During the trip, Melanie flew to Cape Town with a friend where they
met two Spanish women who barely spoke English. The strangers invited
them on a road trip to the southern tip of Africa, where she saw the
point where the Atlantic and Indian oceans meet and Nelson Mandela’s
jail cell. “That’s the most I’ve lived,” she says. “I know that sounds
crazy because I’m 20, but I can honestly say, my time in South Africa;
that’s the most I’ve ever lived.”

my family’s story

Looking Back on Armenian Martyr’s Day: An Interview with Alyssa Alexanian Mohin

By Elizabeth Mohin

“I am the granddaughter of victims of the 1915 Armenian Genocide in Turkey. I know a lot more about my maternal side of the family because the other side, who also endured the genocide, got tuberculosis in the 1920’s after immigrating to the United States and died.

I spent a lot of time with my maternal grandparents, Agop Abkarian and Eliz Vartanian, who talked about their experiences quite a lot. When I spent the night at their house as a kid, you could hear my grandfather crying and shouting in his sleep. This man was tortured by these experiences for the rest of his life.

He was from Sivas, which was in mountainous central Turkey. Apparently there had been some massacres of Armenians in about 1895 by the Ottoman Turks. Then it really started up again in 1915. It was truly a genocide in that the government was directing it, not the locals. In the case of my grandfather, his family got some advance warning that the Turks were coming. They had a very successful general store, and in those days there were no savings banks, so they had bags of gold that they took to their church for safekeeping. On the way home, they were met on the road by Turkish soldiers. My great-grandfather was beheaded and my grandfather, who was fourteen years old, was given a shovel and told to bury him. That was how things started.

His entire family was forced to march across the Syrian Desert with very little supplies or provisions. He followed them on a parallel route, and at night he would come into the camp and speak to them. He went undetected, which is how he survived. But his grandmother who could no longer walk after she grew tired was left on the road. He was told that all of those who were left behind were shot. His mother also died en route. His ten-year-old sister Anahid survived, but later on he was forced to place her in an orphanage where she immediately got cholera and died. He felt guilty for the rest of his life about that.

Later on, he was lucky enough to get a job working for Company 13 of the French Armenian Legion because he had gone to a French Jesuit school in Sivas, Turkey, so he spoke fluent French, Arabic, and, of course, Armenian and Turkish. He credited his knowledge of foreign languages as saving his life. He did return to Sivas but could not locate the money that he left with the church. He became an Atheist after that. His father, before he was beheaded, went to church every morning before work. They were very religious and donated to the church. He felt that if there was a God, God would not have let this happen to such religious people. So, my family does not participate with the Armenian Church in New York as a result.

My grandmother was only nine years old when she went through the genocide, so her whole story is through the eyes of a child. She lived in a town called Aintap in southeastern Turkey. Her father was seized and put into a hard labor camp for the entire duration of the war, but survived. My grandmother and her pregnant mother, sister, and two little brothers, were forced to march through the Syrian Desert. They were also forced to work. They had to break up big stones into little stones to be put on the railroad beds because the Turks were building a railway at the time. For breaking up rocks all day long, they received two pieces of bread. One of Elize’s little brothers was bitten by a scorpion and died. The other women crossing the desert told my great-grandmother, “You’re not going to survive. You can’t make this journey if you’re pregnant. You have three children that you have to think about.” So, she agreed to have an abortion, which killed her. My grandmother, Elize, was with her when she died the next day, which left her and her siblings alone.

My grandmother saw Turks do horrific things to people on the march. She saw Turkish soldiers bet on the sex of a pregnant Armenian woman and then slice her open, and the fetus fell out. It was horrific, just horrific. At one point, they got everyone in a group and just started shooting them. My grandmother and this other little boy pretended they were dead and laid under a pile of dead bodies overnight, and then crawled out from underneath them in the morning.

All of them suffered from starvation and looked like corpses by the time they got to Syria. While they were in a refugee camp in Syria, my grandmother received a job working for a Turkish governor in Nazareth as a house servant because he was looking for someone who spoke Turkish and Arabic to be an interpreter for himself and his new wife, who he could not communicate to. Her little brother would come to the house every night and she would go down the back steps to sneak him food, because they were still starving. One night, her boss heard the noise and thought there was an intruder in the house. He knocked her little brother down the steps, killing him in front of her. And of course he realized afterwards that it had been a mistake, it was a little boy. A lot of tragedy… a lot of tragedy.

She went to get water from the public well one day and heard all the bells tolling. She saw all these Armenians walking down the road yelling, “The war is over! You can leave now!” She just set the jug right down and started marching with them. She never went back to say goodbye or anything.

She eventually ended up in another refugee camp where my grandfather went to find a wife. By that time, he was an officer in the “La Légion Arménienne”. My grandmother, who was 15 years old, borrowed a dress and was told that he would come into her tent, and she would serve him coffee and sweets, but she was not allowed to look at him. Apparently, he was impressed by her reddish-blonde hair. Afterwards, she was told, “Okay, it’s settled. You’re going to marry him.” She couldn’t stand not seeing him before she got married, so she peeked out of the tent and saw him pacing back and forth, waiting. He was very handsome and fit with a horse and a snazzy uniform. So, they were married by a priest, never having spoken a word to each other. She was very proud to be married to him. He wasn’t starving.

They lived in Port Said, Egypt, at his military base. My grandmother went into labor with her first-born, my mother Makruhe, while they were strolling through a pomegranate orchard. They wanted to emigrate and my grandfather’s uncle, who happened to already be in New York, sent them money for passage. They traveled on the Belvedere ship and slept on mats on the floor. By that time, my mother was a fat, nine month-old baby and they would take her up to the upper levels of the ship for fresh air, and all these people would admire the baby. And finally, they got to New York City, and everybody on the boat was cheering and crying when they saw The Statue of Liberty. They got processed at Ellis Island. My grandfather had a fever and he was worried that they would reject him if they knew he was sick. So he said, “Give me the baby,” and he placed my mother on his lap, because his legs were shaking, and pretended to be bouncing her. And that’s how they got to the United States, but not without witnessing just about everyone in their family dying. They started an oriental rug and upholstery business on Madison Avenue and later bought a farm in Howells, New York, where they continued their business and eventually retired.

I was raised by people who had suffered incredible atrocities. My grandmother spoke about it more than anybody else. But the funny thing is that she was a very happy person. She was always singing to herself and loved to dance. It was just amazing. So whenever I’m really feeling bad, I think to myself, if she can overcome that and still be happy, then I can overcome whatever I’m going through.”

Melo

I interviewed Carmelo Anthony for ABC channel 7 in NYC on Tuesday 3/29 for the unveiling of his new Boost Mobile billboard. He and Lala were very personable and gracious and their family is adorable. It aired on Eyewitness News 6 PM and (I believe) 11 PM. I’ll post the video soon. It was the biggest and best day of my career so far and also very exciting for me as a longtime Melo fan.

Saw this on a colleague’s Twitter:

Thanks!

I still don’t know how Tumblr works but thanks for all the notes on my interview with DG. Here’s the version that got published:

http://www.thepurchasebrick.com/articles/nbc-star-donald-glover-is-a-one-man-show

XO

Interview with Donald Glover

For thepurchasebrick.com:

By: Elizabeth Mohin

Donald Glover is probably best known for his character Troy Barnes in the NBC sitcom Community. He has another following for his music (he raps under the moniker Childish Gambino), writing (he used to write for 30 Rock), and stand-up comedy. What a lot of people don’t know is that Donald grew up under unusual circumstances; he was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness in the projects of Atlanta and shared a home with foster brothers and sisters as well as two biological siblings. At 27, he has a lot on his plate, but is still hungry.

How was the Superbowl?

The Superbowl was really fun. I’m not used to being around that many people in the corporate world. You kinda realize once you get there that no one who is there is really from those states. It’s all corporate people showing how big their corporate dick is. No one there was gonna scare your mom.

Of stand-up, improv, acting, music, and writing, which is the biggest challenge? Which gives you the most satisfaction?

I don’t really see them as separate. I see them as the same thing. I think that’s why I’m able to them all, honestly. I don’t really have a favorite ice cream. I like them all. They just taste different.

How do you first describe yourself when you meet someone?

I used to say “I’m an artist,” and they were usually like, “Oh, I’ll leave now. I don’t want to talk to you. You sound mad lame.” No one wants to meet an artist. That worked in college. You can get away with that in, like, junior year. You can be like “Oh, I’m an artist,” and a girl will talk to you for half an hour. But now, I awkwardly try to say all of them - “I’m a writer, but I’m on this show acting, but I do music too.”

Throughout middle school and high school, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I wanted to be a puppeteer for a long time. I studied ventriloquism and I thought I was going to be a Jim Henson puppeteer. I also got really into playwriting in high school. I never really thought I was going to be a writer, but I graduated from my high school “Most Likely to Write for The Simpsons.”

As someone who dreamed of being a puppeteer, what was it like acting in The Muppets movie [to be released 2011]?

It was the most enjoyable time in my life. On the first day we shot, I was literally tearing up. Kermit was in the room with me and he’s just so real. It’s like you never grew up.  I used to watch The Muppets so much that my mom used to force me to watch cartoons. When you’re there, you have no doubt in your mind that they’re not alive. It’s beautiful.

You were mentioned in a 2005 New York Times article entitled “…One Person on This Page Will Be Justly Famous by 2010.” Six years later, you are. How has life changed?

You know the term “more money, more problems?” It’s not true. It’s like, more money, richer problems. Richer problems are like, “Oh, who am I gonna pay to decorate my house?” I’m fortunate enough to be in a position where I can pay people to do the little things I can’t do anymore. But sometimes you miss those things. I miss being bored, honestly. I can’t remember the last time I was bored.

At 27, do you feel like your career has taken off pretty fast?

I feel like it’s been forever.  I’m impatient. I always want to do more, now. But it’s like wait, Will Smith was on The Fresh Prince of Bel Air for eight years. That’s a long time before he started doing movies.

What’s your drive for being such a workaholic?

Not being poor again. It fucking sucks. I hated it. In college, my parents couldn’t pay for anything. It was all scholarships and loans. So when I didn’t have money, I really owed people money. I had negative money. I don’t want to ever be there again. I don’t like owing anyone anything. I only want to owe myself shit. That’s real power. Real power is when you can make all your own decisions, on your own time, with your own resources. You don’t have to ask people for anything.

How did you get into sketch comedy when you were at NYU?

I had just started freshman year and I didn’t know anyone. One of those fake friends you make the first week of school was like, “Audition for this sketch group! I am.” So I did, and I got in. Then I auditioned for this improv group and I got in, and it just took off from there. I didn’t realize you could get paid to do it.

What advice do you have for someone who wants to get into stand-up comedy?

Just do it. That kinda goes for every job. Just start doing it. Waiting for the right time and waiting for someone to discover you is bullshit. That’s just you telling yourself that you’re scared. And you should be. Doing stand-up is horrible. You’ll mess up. People will tell you that you’re shit and you’re not funny. You just gotta figure out who you are.

Why do you do improv every Sunday night at UCB Theatre? Is it just for fun or does it help you in other areas?

It’s both. It’s really nice to hang out with those dudes that I came up with. And also, it’s really nice to relax. I spend all week going to meetings, and pitching, and writing, and acting, and writing music, and my brain’s fried. I know it sounds like work, but it’s not work. It’s improv. You get on stage and you’re just joking around with your buddies. The moments that we spend onstage and then afterwards when we go eat and just talk about stupid shit are the best four hours of the week for me, sometimes.

Do people get upset when you use them for comedic material?

Oh, yeah. There was this one girl who hit me when I did a joke about her even though I told her in advance I was gonna do it. I do draw from experience, that’s the way it is. I put a lot of stuff out there. I like to let people know exactly who I am through my stuff, so my life is sort of open. It lets people closer to you and that’s a good thing.

Why do you think some people might find your lyrics derogatory towards women?

Some women find my music derogatory towards women because it is. I don’t have a lot of vices. I don’t do cocaine. I don’t do a lot of drugs. But I do like to drink and I do like to have sex. So those are the parts of me that I rap about, because those are the parts of me that I find interesting and also scary. I understand if women are put off by that. I don’t want them to think I leave the stage and go punch a girl in the mouth or something.

LA or New York?

New York. All day. New York made me who I am.

What did you learn from the “Donald for Spiderman” online campaign?

A lot of people think I had malicious intent like I meant to stir something up with the Spiderman campaign. I was halfway joking. People are like, “There are plenty of black superheroes that are just as good.” And I’m like, that sounds like “separate but equal”…  and it’s not true. There aren’t even a lot of good white superheroes. There’s only three you wanna see. You wanna see Batman, you wanna see Spiderman, and you wanna see Superman.  And let’s be honest, Superman’s not that great either because as soon as kryptonite’s involved, he’s gonna get weak. The only two really cool ones that everyone knows are Batman and Spiderman. Now, Batman can’t really be black. Maybe in some world but I mean, what black family is super rich from the 1930’s? The beautiful thing about Spiderman is that no one knows who he is, and he’s poor, and he lives in the middle of New York. When I was a kid, that’s what I connected to the most; that he’s poor. I really got that. He lives with his aunt, he doesn’t have a lot of money, and people really hate him. I felt really close to that. I used to read those comics and be like, “people don’t like him!” because I felt like I was a loner at my school and I didn’t feel like people liked me either, even though I was just trying to help all the time.

Did you get bullied in school? Do you think the focus on bullying in the media recently is a good thing?

I got picked on a ton around 6^th, 7^th, and 8^th grade, when people start getting really mean. I was afraid to go to school in 7^th grade. I would wake up in the morning and tears would be rolling down my face when I was walking to school. I definitely don’t condone bullying. But for me, it helped me become who I am. I wouldn’t change my past for anything.

What was it like growing up with parents who were Jehovah’s Witnesses?

It was hard because no one knows what that is. People know what Jews are, at least. You can go to the middle of nowhere and be like, “I’m Jewish,” and people know to hate you. (laughs) People don’t know what a Jehovah’s Witness is. You don’t stand for the Pledge of Allegiance. You don’t get gifts. You don’t celebrate. You just look like a weirdo from the get-go.

Did you get a lot of girls?

I do not think I was a ladies man at all. I wasn’t really allowed to date. I felt really alone. I had pimples. It’s funny, I go back now and everyone is like, “Donald was really cool in high school!” People remember what they want to remember.

What about now?

It is easier to get ladies, but I don’t think it’s because I’ve changed who I am. I think it’s because I’m more confident in who I am. Tina Fey once told me, “If you’re a dude, and you want to get a woman, all you have to do is be really good at one thing. You can be a juggler. You can be a carpenter. Whatever it is, just be really good at it.” Because the passion and the love you have for whatever it is you’re doing is a turn on for women. When I was in college, I couldn’t wait to have a car, and a job, and a place. But once you get that shit, you don’t know if those girls really like you for you. That’s some truth shit. I’m never like, I wanna fuck Kim Kardashian. Kim Kardashian will fuck a wallet if it’s big enough. It’s really hard to find a girl who really likes you for you. I don’t think I’m paranoid. I haven’t seen anything to prove me wrong.

What else makes you not want to hang out with a girl?

Someone who isn’t confident in themselves. Someone who is just drifting through life, who doesn’t have any passion.

Does the censoring at NBC annoy you when you’re acting for Community?

Yes. I get very frustrated. That’s why I do stand-up and that’s why I have a Twitter feed, because I can say and do anything I want.

Do you have any reoccurring nightmares?

I don’t dream a lot anymore. Sometimes I chalk it up to me doing the stuff that I always wanted to do, so I don’t need to dream anymore.