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The profound irony of Trump's Kennedy Center honoring LGBTQ icon Gloria Gaynor
The profound irony of Trump's Kennedy Center honoring LGBTQ icon Gloria Gaynor

Boston Globe

time6 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Boston Globe

The profound irony of Trump's Kennedy Center honoring LGBTQ icon Gloria Gaynor

Gaynor is best known for her 1978 megahit 'I Will Survive,' which became an anthem for those dancing the night away in New York discos during the '70s. Disco itself remains widely misunderstood. It wasn't about 'Saturday Night Fever.' It was an after-hours scene of cultural and social tolerance, where everybody – Black, white, Latino, gay, straight – was welcome as long as they liked to dance (and, at some of the harder doors, as long as they were dressed well enough). Disco was multi-ethnic, pansexual, and progressive in nature. This, as much as anything, helps explain the white working-class backlash that reached its apotheosis with Disco Demolition Night at Comiskey Park in 1979. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up Advertisement In other words, disco represented much of what the Trump administration abhors. So it makes sense that this iteration of the Kennedy Center, which Trump has pledged to remake in his own image and name, would honor a socially conservative disco queen, even if her biggest hit still makes the playlist at just about every pride parade. This is Trump's disco counter-narrative: disco wasn't about celebrating diversity. It was really Ready the Kennedy Center dance floor. Chris Vognar can be reached at

Ron Kittle leads unforgettable one-minute wedding for White Sox fans during fun-filled night with a 50-foot hot dog
Ron Kittle leads unforgettable one-minute wedding for White Sox fans during fun-filled night with a 50-foot hot dog

Time of India

time11-08-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Time of India

Ron Kittle leads unforgettable one-minute wedding for White Sox fans during fun-filled night with a 50-foot hot dog

Ron Kittle leads unforgettable one-minute wedding for White Sox fans during fun-filled night with a 50-foot hot dog (Image via Getty) On Saturday, the Chicago White Sox turned a regular baseball game into one of the most unusual nights of the season. At Rate Field in Chicago, two lifelong White Sox fans got married in just one minute. The ceremony was done right there in front of the crowd by Ron Kittle, the 1983 American League Rookie of the Year. Fans also saw a 50-foot hot dog, a petting zoo, ice sculptors, a circus clown, and even free haircuts. Before the game against the Cleveland Guardians, Mike Veeck, son of the late Bill Veeck, threw the ceremonial first pitch. Ron Kittle officiates one-minute wedding for Chicago White Sox fans The night was called Bill Veeck Night, in honor of the White Sox's past owner who was famous for wild and creative ideas to keep fans entertained. Near home plate, Ron Kittle stood with the happy couple and swiftly walked them through their pledges. They were lawfully married in less than sixty seconds. The audience applauded wildly; the couple gave a brief kiss before departing the pitch. It was a great tribute to Bill Veeck's lighthearted approach, which frequently shocked supporters with amusing tricks. Mike Veeck leads Bill Veeck night with 50-foot hot dog and pinstriped shorts Mike Veeck helped start the evening's fun by throwing the first pitch. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Free P2,000 GCash eGift UnionBank Credit Card Apply Now Undo Around the ballpark, fans took photos with the massive 50-foot hot dog, petted animals in the pregame zoo, and watched artists carve ice sculptures in the outfield concourse. Also Read: Texas Rangers face fierce outrage after honoring Josh Hamilton accused of assaulting daughter The first 15,000 fans who entered got a Bill Veeck bobblehead to take home. After the game, fireworks were planned to light up the Chicago night. Even the players joined in the fun. They warmed up wearing pinstriped shorts and collared tops, just like the uniforms worn in 1976 during Bill Veeck's ownership. Back then, he tried many unusual ideas, from an exploding scoreboard in 1960 to the famous 'Disco Demolition Night' in 1979. Bill Veeck, who passed away in 1986 and entered the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1991, was remembered not just for baseball but for making games a joyful show for everyone in the stands. Catch Rani Rampal's inspiring story on Game On, Episode 4. Watch Here!

House Great Vince Lawrence Recalls the Racism Fueling Disco Demolition Night in New Doc Clip
House Great Vince Lawrence Recalls the Racism Fueling Disco Demolition Night in New Doc Clip

Yahoo

time16-06-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

House Great Vince Lawrence Recalls the Racism Fueling Disco Demolition Night in New Doc Clip

Chicago house pioneer Vince Lawrence recalls witnessing Disco Demolition Night as a teenager, and later recognizing the racist undertones of the infamous incident, in a new clip from the fascinating documentary, Move Ya Body: The Birth of House, premiering on Rolling Stone. Directed by Elegance Bratton, Move Ya Body digs into the origins of house music on the South Side of Chicago, where Lawrence and his peers crafted a new sound with emerging synth technology and perfected it in underground clubs like the Warehouse. The birth of house music in the 1980s was also, in part, a response to the heyday, and unceremonious downfall, of disco, another genre that had distinctly Black origins before garnering more mainstream attention via white artists and culture. (See: The Bee Gees and Saturday Night Fever.) More from Rolling Stone How Metallica Inspired Fans to Walk and Rock Again After a Serious Motorcycle Accident De La Soul Dig Into Their Long Island Roots in 'The Sixth Borough' Doc Clip Eddie Vedder Raises Awareness for Rare Disease in New Docu Clip Lawrence happened to be working as an usher at Chicago's Comisky Park on Disco Demolition Night in 1979, when a largely white crowd rioted after blowing up a crate of disco records. Lawrence was the victim of racist violence that night too, and an out-of-court settlement allowed him to buy a Moog synthesizer and pave the way for the creation of house music. But in the new clip from Move Ya Body, Lawrence admits that, at the time, he wasn't able to perceive the racism and anti-Blackness fueling Disco Demolition Night. As he puts it, 'I was just not accepting of the reality of racism, of real racism.' Lawrence continues: 'I feel now that a lot of the angst about disco was really about Blackness. Because people were on the radio describing things that were just Black. The gold chains was a symbol for us that we were no longer bound by chains. Bell-bottom pants and the leisure suits were a way for us to feel together, when we had matching tops and bottoms. All of these things were being said in a way that was looking down on everything that brought us joy.' In an email to Rolling Stone, Bratton calls Disco Demolition Night an 'ideological lynching' that was 'meant to remind Blacks, queers, and femmes to stay in their place.' Pointedly, he adds: 'The same forces that conspired to destroy Black dance music in the late 1970s are alive and well. Today, they call themselves MAGA… It feels so easy to just give these lunatics what they want but in Vince there is a powerful rebuke of the status quo. It's rooted in music. Talk about non-violent resistance!' Move Ya Body is set to screen Friday, June 13, as part of the Tribeca Film Festival, with additional showings scheduled through the weekend. Along with Lawrence, the film features interviews with other house luminaries including Marshall Jefferson, 'Screamin'' Rachael Cain, Byron Stingily, Lady D, Kevin Aviance, and Lori Branch. In explaining why he wanted to make Move Ya Body, Bratton says it was as much about his love of music as it was a desire to 'make sure the pioneers of house can get their roses while they are still here.' He adds, 'If you look up the top EDM DJ's in the world, they are white men mostly from Europe. House music like just about every genre of American music starts in the Black community… House history is black history, it's queer history, and it's feminist history. I want to show through Move Ya Body that partying is political. Going to a club and dancing to the same beat as someone different from you is a radical act. It shakes oppressive power to the core to think that we can find that commonality through our differences. If they weren't scared of our collective power then they wouldn't spend so much time trying to keep us apart.' Best of Rolling Stone Sly and the Family Stone: 20 Essential Songs The 50 Greatest Eminem Songs All 274 of Taylor Swift's Songs, Ranked

How these Chicago nuns use sports to spread their message of service: ‘When we band together, we're powerful'
How these Chicago nuns use sports to spread their message of service: ‘When we band together, we're powerful'

Yahoo

time13-06-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

How these Chicago nuns use sports to spread their message of service: ‘When we band together, we're powerful'

They wear black and white, but still stand out in a sea of Chicago White Sox fans. One has danced atop the dugout at Rate Field. Another earned a Topps trading card for throwing a perfect strike. And a third has run the Chicago Marathon 13 consecutive times. Sports is a habit, but their life's work is a higher calling. They're nuns. Advertisement A lot of attention has been given to the Sox since the fandom of Pope Leo XIV, born Robert Francis Prevost, for the South Side baseball team was revealed. But religious women from local orders have frequented Sox games for decades. According to longtime team organist Nancy Faust, a few sisters even sat near her on the infamous Disco Demolition Night. 'We need to be people that are seen at ballparks. We need to be seen as people who stand by the bedside of a resident who is dying,' Sister Jeanne Haley of the Carmelite Sisters for the Aged and Infirm told the Tribune. 'There are so many ways we can be present to people. We might get pushback from adults who had nuns who slapped their hands, but I always say to those people, 'Honey, I'm a nurse. And I had my hand slapped too.'' Haley's loyalty to the Sox began when she was a child in Oak Park. She remembers eating hot dogs with her parents and five siblings in the Comiskey Park nosebleeds. The self-described tomboy who cheered for Tommy McCraw always wanted to become a nurse. She began volunteering as a teenager, reluctantly, at Sacred Heart Home in Chicago, where she worked with senior citizens. Haley admired how the sisters took care of the residents — and each other. Advertisement More than 50 years after taking her vows, Haley is still taking care of others. Now based at her order's mother house in Germantown, New York, Haley was the longtime administrator at St. Patrick's Residence in Naperville. A former co-worker's son designed a sign that said, 'Nuns love the White Sox,' which she brought to games in the early 2000s. When she was invited to dance atop a dugout with Sox mascot Southpaw, she eagerly accepted. 'I will walk with Jesus and be grateful when he holds me, when I can't walk any further. I trust in that, I really do,' she said. 'I don't know if he's going to get the White Sox back to the World Series, but that's probably not the most important thing.' Sister Mary Jo Sobieck of the Dominican Sisters of Springfield plans to be among the faithful at Saturday's sold-out celebration of Chicago's homegrown pope. It's a return trip to the field where she wowed the crowd — and subsequently went viral. On Aug. 18, 2018, she threw a ceremonial first pitch for a perfect strike after bouncing the ball off her bicep. Then a teacher at Marian Catholic in Chicago Heights, Sobieck's pitch was captured on a baseball card, a bobblehead and even nominated for an ESPY Award. Advertisement Sobieck grew up the youngest of 10 siblings in Minnesota and has been with her order for more than 32 years. She returned to Illinois recently after a Spanish immersion program language took her to Tucson, Arizona, and San Antonio, Texas. Sobieck told a friend prior to the election of the first American-born pope that 'we have to make it cool to be Catholic again.' She said she admires not only Pope Leo XIV's connection to the Chicago area, but also what he symbolizes as a global leader who can inspire people to choose work based in faith. 'It brings me to tears because of the hope that I have and the dream I have of just a revival in the church for vocations, that's where I am with this,' she said. 'The church definitely needs just a new generation, the next generation of servant leaders, in our convents and in our seminaries.' Marian Catholic's Sister Sobieck on mission to help homeless: 'We rise up when we meet people where they are' Advertisement Always athletic, Sobieck thinks sports and Christianity go hand in hand — they have similar mentalities. 'For me, the whole sports piece turned into a fire for giving myself completely and just unreservedly, as I did with my teammates in striving for a goal,' Sobieck said. 'I mean, that's what Jesus did, right? He put together a team of 12 people and the goal was to spread the word.' For those who are considering a life devoted to the church, Sobieck says the lifestyle is not as limiting as some may think. 'Life has changed — not ended — and that change is transformational … in profound ways,' she said. 'It's just the beginning, you know?' Advertisement Sister Stephanie Baliga of the Franciscans of the Eucharist of Chicago at Mission of Our Lady of the Angels in West Humboldt Park was seeking change when an injury forced her to step away from her track and cross-country career at the University of Illinois. A 'powerful experience' at a retreat moved her to enter the order at 22 in 2010. Now, she spends her mornings training for her 14th Chicago Marathon — she wants to plant a life-sized cardboard cutout of the pontiff along the route so runners can give him a high-five — before gathering donations used to feed and care for people living in poverty on the West Side of the city. Baliga was teaching religion at St. Sylvester School in Palmer Square when she learned a new pope had been chosen. A band of nuns, one 'crazy' Christmas party and the rebuilding of a West Side neighborhood Advertisement 'I was more excited than I have been about almost anything else in my whole life,' she said. 'I heard about the white smoke right before I was going to teach kindergarten. I found out right after that the pope was from Chicago and I had only very, very, very remotely heard of him before, so I was quite surprised. I had no idea this was even a possibility.' Baliga admires Pope Leo XIV's background as a missionary, like her, and as a priest who understands religious life. His interest in the Sox will inspire her to get to a game at Rate Field, where she is volunteering during Saturday's celebration. 'It's such an awesome, amazing testament to the faith of the people in Chicago and the faith of all the people who guided him — his parents, the priests, the nuns, all the people that he encountered when he was a kid on the South Side,' she said. 'This is what faith does. When people have faith, we produce amazing witnesses to the faith.' Two of the pope's aunts — sisters of his mother Mildred Prevost — were nuns. Sr. Mary Amarita Martinez of the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Dubuque, Iowa, took her vows on Aug. 15, 1928, and served as a school music teacher in Clinton, Iowa. She died in 1945. Advertisement Sr. Mary Sulpice Martinez lived 95 years and was a member of the Sisters of Mercy for 77 years, according to her 1999 death notice in the Tribune. She taught at St. Mary of the Lake (1925-30), St. Mary, Lake Forest (1945-50), St. Patrick Academy in Des Plaines (1958-59; 1961-67) and Mother McAuley High School (1969-70), among others. Pope Leo XIV has appointed nuns to key roles at the Vatican and allowed one to publicly address him this week — a move usually reserved for those in holy orders, the Catholic News Agency reported. None of the women interviewed by the Tribune felt the need to be given a bigger role to feel fulfilled by their life's work. 'When we band together, we're powerful,' said Sobieck, the viral strike-thrower. 'Because we've gotten smaller (in number), we've tended to not take as many risks as our foundresses (did), like sending sisters out to different parts of the world and trusting it was going to bear fruit. 'To me, this is a critical time in our history, that we take those risks again because I feel like that itself is going to be the witness that inspires young people to say, 'Oh my God, I want to be a part of that.'' What a pitch.

How these Chicago nuns use sports to spread their message of service: ‘When we band together, we're powerful'
How these Chicago nuns use sports to spread their message of service: ‘When we band together, we're powerful'

Chicago Tribune

time13-06-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Chicago Tribune

How these Chicago nuns use sports to spread their message of service: ‘When we band together, we're powerful'

They wear black and white, but still stand out in a sea of Chicago White Sox fans. One has danced atop the dugout at Rate Field. Another earned a Topps trading card for throwing a perfect strike. And a third has run the Chicago Marathon 13 consecutive times. Sports is a habit, but their life's work is a higher calling. They're nuns. A lot of attention has been given to the Sox since the fandom of Pope Leo XIV, born Robert Francis Prevost, for the South Side baseball team was revealed. But religious women from local orders have frequented Sox games for decades. According to longtime team organist Nancy Faust, a few sisters even sat near her on the infamous Disco Demolition Night. 'We need to be people that are seen at ballparks. We need to be seen as people who stand by the bedside of a resident who is dying,' Sr. Jeanne Haley of the Carmelite Sisters for the Aged and Infirm told the Tribune. 'There are so many ways we can be present to people. We might get pushback from adults who had nuns who slapped their hands, but I always say to those people, 'Honey, I'm a nurse. And I had my hand slapped, too.'' Haley's loyalty to the Sox began when she was a child in Oak Park. She remembers eating hot dogs with her parents and five siblings in the Comiskey Park nosebleeds. The self-described tomboy who cheered for Tommy McCraw always wanted to become a nurse. She began volunteering as a teenager, reluctantly, at Sacred Heart Home in Chicago, where she worked with senior citizens. Haley admired how the sisters took care of the residents — and each other. More than 50 years after taking her vows, Haley is still taking care of others. Now based at her order's mother house in Germantown, New York, Haley was the longtime administrator at St. Patrick's Residence in Naperville. A former co-worker's son designed a sign that said, 'Nuns love the White Sox,' which she brought to games in the early 2000s. When she was invited to dance atop a dugout with Sox mascot Southpaw, she eagerly accepted. 'I will walk with Jesus and be grateful when he holds me, when I can't walk any further. I trust in that, I really do,' she said. 'I don't know if he's going to get the White Sox back to the World Series, but that's probably not the most important thing.' Sr. Mary Jo Sobieck of the Dominican Sisters of Springfield plans to be among the faithful at Saturday's sold-out celebration of Chicago's homegrown pope. It's a return trip for her to the field where she wowed the crowd — and subsequently went viral. On Aug. 18, 2018, she threw a ceremonial first pitch for a perfect strike after bouncing the ball off her bicep. Then a teacher at Marian Catholic in Chicago Heights, Sobieck's pitch was captured on a baseball card, a bobblehead and even nominated for an ESPY Award. Sobieck grew up the youngest of 10 siblings in Minnesota and has been with her order for more than 32 years. She returned to Illinois recently after a Spanish immersion program language took her to Tucson, Ariz., and San Antonio, Tex.. Sobieck told a friend prior to the election of the first American-born pope that 'we have to make it cool to be Catholic again.' She said she admires not only Pope Leo XIV's connection to the Chicago area, but also what he symbolizes as a global leader who can inspire people to choose work based in faith. 'It brings me to tears because of the hope that I have and the dream I have of just a revival in the church for vocations, that's where I am with this,' she said. 'The church definitely needs just a new generation, the next generation of servant leaders, in our convents and in our seminaries.' Marian Catholic's Sister Sobieck on mission to help homeless: 'We rise up when we meet people where they are'Always athletic, Sobieck thinks sports and Christianity go hand in hand — they have similar mentalities. 'For me, the whole sports piece turned into a fire for giving myself completely and just unreservedly, as I did with my teammates in striving for a goal,' Sobieck said. 'I mean, that's what Jesus did, right? He put together a team of 12 people and the goal was to spread the word.' For those who are considering a life devoted to the church, Sobieck says the lifestyle is not as limiting as some may think. 'Life has changed — not ended — and that change is transformational … in profound ways,' she said. 'It's just the beginning, you know?' Sr. Stephanie Baliga of the Franciscans of the Eucharist of Chicago at Mission of Our Lady of the Angels in West Humboldt Park was seeking change when an injury forced her to step away from her track and cross-country career at the University of Illinois. A 'powerful experience' at a retreat moved her to enter the order at 22 in 2010. Now, she spends her mornings training for her 14th Chicago Marathon — she wants to plant a life-sized cardboard cutout of the pontiff along the route so runners can give him a high-five — before gathering donations used to feed and care for people living in poverty on the West Side of the city. Baliga was teaching religion at St. Sylvester School in Palmer Square when she learned a new pope had been chosen. A band of nuns, one 'crazy' Christmas party and the rebuilding of a West Side neighborhood'I was more excited than I have been about almost anything else in my whole life,' she said. 'I heard about the white smoke right before I was going to teach kindergarten. I found out right after that the pope was from Chicago and I had only very, very, very remotely heard of him before, so I was quite surprised. I had no idea this was even a possibility.' Baliga admires Pope Leo XIV's background as a missionary, like her, and as a priest who understands religious life. His interest in the Sox will inspire her to get to a game at Rate Field, where she is volunteering during Saturday's celebration. 'It's such an awesome, amazing testament to the faith of the people in Chicago and the faith of all the people who guided him — his parents, the priests, the nuns, all the people that he encountered when he was a kid on the South Side,' she said. 'This is what faith does. When people have faith, we produce amazing witnesses to the faith.' Two of the pope's aunts — sisters of his mother Mildred Prevost — were nuns. Sr. Mary Amarita Martinez of the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Dubuque, Iowa, took her first vows on Aug. 15, 1928, and served as a school music teacher in Clinton, Iowa. She died in 1945. Sr. Mary Sulpice Martinez lived 95 years and was a member of the Sisters of Mercy for 77 years, according to her 1999 death notice in the Tribune. She taught at St. Mary of the Lake (1925-30), St. Mary, Lake Forest (1945-50), St. Patrick Academy in Des Plaines (1958-59; 1961-67) and Mother McAuley High School (1969-70), among others, before retiring. Pope Leo XIV has appointed nuns to key roles at the Vatican and allowed one to publicly address him this week — a move usually reserved for those in holy orders, the Catholic News Agency reported. None of the women interviewed by the Tribune felt the need to be given a bigger role to feel fulfilled by their life's work. 'When we band together, we're powerful. …' said Sobieck, the viral strike-thrower. 'Because we've gotten smaller (in number), we've tended to not take as many risks as our foundresses (did), like sending sisters out to different parts of the world and trusting it was going to bear fruit. 'To me, this is a critical time in our history, that we take those risks again because I feel like that itself is going to be the witness that inspires young people to say, 'Oh my God, I want to be a part of that.'' What a pitch.

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