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Last week, history was made with the first Asian American prime time show in 20 years, Fresh Off The Boat.

The show made quite a wave as the third most tweeted show of the night, right behind Empire and The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. It is also the second highest rated comedy series debut this season, behind ABC's Black-ish. That's pretty damn good.

By now, people should understand why Fresh Off The Boat matters. The raving reviews are in. TV history in the making. Not afraid to confront race. Visibility and validation for Asian Americans. Not only is Fresh Off The Boat a groundbreaking show, it's also funny, well-written and politically bold for an ambitious 22 minutes.

As with any debut, there will be the haters. I'm fascinated by the negative comments. Trite. Boring. Stereotypical. As a huge supporter of the show, the negative comments don't offend me. I'm just stoked that people are even talking about the FIRST ALL-ASIAN AMERICAN sitcom in 20 years!

And because Fresh is the ONLY all Asian-American sitcom on TV, of course people will criticize the crap out of it. Kind of like the first black President -- he can't do anything right (sarcasm). With nothing to currently compare Fresh to, there are high expectations for the show to be worth everybody's time and investment. Remember that Fresh Off The Boat is a start, not an end-all solution to the problems of deep rooted racism in Hollywood.

For starters, it's a huge success for the Asian American community -- increasing visibility, providing opportunities and affirming the Asian American experience on a mainstream level.

Furthermore, when I think about how Fresh makes so many people feel uncomfortable, I consider it another success.

And why wouldn't mainstream audiences feel uncomfortable? Fresh Off The Boat is centered around perspectives of the Asian American experience, inspired by the real life voice of Eddie Huang, positions the white experience as different, and features Asian characters played by real Asian people (unlike white people playing yellow-face characters in Avatar and Ghost In The Shell).

Whenever there is something different that challenges convention, stands out against the norm, disrupts traditional perceptions of race, power and identity -- people are going to get uncomfortable. And they should. Because change won't happen by playing safe in our comfort zones.

This country has gone far too long without broad representations of Asian Americans in mainstream media. The lack of diversity not only hurts the Asian American community, but it's also a detriment to American audiences in general who become conditioned to believing one-dimensional portrayals of Asian Americans.

The way people shape perceptions of Asian Americans based on mainstream representation (or lack thereof) trickles down into every day interactions. Invisibility conditions people to believe that Asian American lives are not valued. Stereotypical roles condition people to view Asian Americans as perpetual foreigners.

For example, just last week Esperanza High students in Tustin, CA chanted racial slurs "Jackie Chan" and "shrimp fried rice" at an Asian American basketball player, Reed Nakakihara. It's sad that these stories are no longer surprising to me.

In addition, the major Sony leak revealed Oscar-winning screenwriter Aaron Sorkin stating "there aren't any Asian movie stars." Obviously the real problem here is that there aren't enough opportunities given to Asian actors, especially when Asian character roles are given to white actors.

In trying to be compassionate, I can understand why some people wouldn't find the show funny. I would assume that non-Asians have no point of reference to understand the jokes, since the story is written from the Asian American perspective. In addition, if they identify with characters whom are made the butt of the jokes, more reason for them to be uncomfortable with and unsupportive of the show.

Asian Americans who dislike the show are probably terrified of stirring the status quo.

And of course, people are allowed to simply not like the show. Maybe it's entitlement, maybe it's privilege or maybe it's just not funny to some folks.

Regardless, Fresh Off The Boat is still important for our country and society. People need to unlearn decades of discrimination and racism embedded in mainstream media -- from lack of diverse roles to marginalizing Asian Americans with stereotypes to promoting yellow face. Because even if you don't find the show funny, you can still learn something from watching Fresh Off The Boat -- and that's the fact that every experience in America (no matter how foreign it may seem from your own) is important. If validating these experiences or even witnessing a TV network validate it, makes people uncomfortable, then that's more reason to keep creating and broadcasting until the experience of seeing Asian Americans on TV becomes as common as seeing a black or white person on the screen.

A class war is raging in British culture. James McAvoy, the star of the X-Men reboots, is the latest actor to wade into the debate, when he told The Herald of Scotland that an acting career was becoming an elite activity: "That's a frightening world to live in because as soon as you get one tiny pocket of society creating all the arts, or culture starts to become representative not of everybody, but of one tiny part, and that's not fair to begin with, but it's also damaging for society."

McAvoy was adding his voice to the laments of a number of other performers, including Ian McKellen, Helen Mirren and Judi Dench. Julie Waters, famous for her role in Educating Rita and as the dance teacher in Billy Elliott, recently bemoaned the current lack of opportunities for young working-class actors: "People like me wouldn't get a chance today." The battle has even turned political. When the shadow culture minister, Chris Bryant, claimed that the British music industry was "too posh," James Blunt, who attended Harrow public school, called him a "classist gimp." All of this is terribly British, of course. Britain has always had a class system, and culture has been an integral reflection of it. Americans are in no place to sneer anymore, however. The same process is underway in the United States. The ability to create increasingly belongs to the wealthy.

Culture, like so much of American life, is being shaped by rising income inequality. Art, which was the domain of a democratic, sometimes anarchic spirit, has become a preserve for the cool display of privilege.

In hip-hop, once considered the most direct expression of the life of the streets, the top practitioners are now Drake and Kanye West, the first of whom is a nice boy from one of the better neighborhoods in Toronto, and the latter of whom is the son of a professor of American literature. The literary novel is obsessed with the minutiae of academic and personal life among the harassed members of the higher portions of the middle class and the lower portions of the upper classes, and writers have started showing up in families, just as they did in the 19th century: Your Foers, your Riches, the clan of Stephen King.

Outside of these inner circles, the creative industries exist on the sufferance of young people who labor on the condition of non-payment or negligible payment, which you can only do if you come from money or are willing to take on crippling amounts of debt or have married somebody with money. Journalism has been haunted by this reality for nearly 20 years. To start a career, you must either take an internship or go to journalism school, which can run to $40,000 a year. Felix Salmon's recent advice to young journalists tells the story of the rise of class into media through an anecdote about Nick Denton.

Gawker's Nick Denton tells an interesting story: when NBC News profiled him a couple of years ago, he dismissed as "archaic" the correspondent's questions about where his staffers had gone to college. No one at Gawker, least of all its owner, cared about such things; indeed, no one at Gawker even cared whether you had gone to college. All they cared about was whether you could write good clean fast funny hard-hitting copy.

But then Nick heard his employees' answers -- and it turned out that Gawker Media was full of graduates of "America's most prestigious schools". Whoops. The implication: there are thousands of great writers out there who didn't go to Columbia, who might not have gone to college at all, who might be old and conservative, rather than young and liberal.

The British are returning to their old class structures -- actors like Damien Lewis and Dominic West attended Eton, just like the Prime Minister and a strikingly large number of his cabinet. (Benedict Cumberbatch attended Harrow, like Blunt.) In America, the "creative class" is camouflage for a creative elite, but in its current form, cultural producers are entirely distinct from what Thorstein Veblen called the "leisure class." Aristocratic tendencies, which remain at least superficially anathema to America, must be carefully disguised.

So the creative class does whatever it can to hide its status as the mere accidental fact of an economic order. The great academic game of "check your privilege" is one such cover; it hides the fact that everyone at an elite institution is privileged and that there is nothing more privileged than sitting around dissecting which one is more privileged than another.

A cult of exhaustion has also developed. "My God, I'm so tired from designing posters all day." "You must be exhausted from your demanding schedule curating podcasts."

And of course, the richer the kids producing the culture, the more secure, the more they talk about how broke they are and how funny it is that they're broke.

The arrival of class into American culture is just another sign of the changing economic substructure of American life. But it will inevitably result in a changing conception of culture as well. The idea of talent as an unpredictable bursting forth, a rise of the low to the high, e pluribus unum, has resided at the very core of the democratic ideal. That ideal is under severe threat.

Meanwhile the difference between the "creative class" and the artists of previous generations grows starker. Artists used to be the ones who didn't fit in. Nobody knew where they, or their visions, came from until they exploded onto the scene. Now artists increasingly come with pedigree, and they must fit in to succeed. It's unclear whether this will lead to worse art. The Foers are good writers, all of them, as are the Riches for that matter -- but the heroism of the individual artist will surely be a victim.

No one who is paying attention can claim any longer that talent is such an unpredictable upswelling of mystical force into the world. Talent is becoming the capacity to navigate the cultural systems in place. Talent is becoming the opposite of originality.

The loss of that unfathomable, unquantifiable creativity will not be the least sacrifice to the stagnation of economic inequality: To make art now is just another inheritance.

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Stephen Marche is a columnist for Esquire Magazine and the author of The Hunger of the Wolf, which will be excerpted here on The Huffington Post tomorrow.

I love awards shows, but admittedly, my favorite shows are the Oscars, Globes, Emmys and Tonys, seeing as I follow film, TV and theater more closely. I did, however, watch the Grammys Sunday night, and here are some of my instant, random observations after watching the show -- my Insta-Grammy Observations -- if you will:

1. I LOVE the live performances at the Grammys. Love them. The Oscars and Emmys should force nominees to deliver LIVE monologues or interpretations of their nominated performances throughout their respective awards shows.

2. Sam Smith is awesome. Brilliant, charming and very humble. I'm a big fan, and liked his burgundy blazer which could have been very "budget rental car salesman," but ended up being quite chic.

3. I love Taylor Swift. Her cerulean mullet ball gown with oversized origami pleating was gorgeous. I also love how she is so happy for everyone and dancing and giving standing ovations. I wish she performed, but have no doubt she will rock the show next year! The only song eligible from 1989 (her smash 2014 album) was "Shake It Off," as it was released as a single during the eligibility period. Expect her to be a big factor at the Grammys next year.

4. Ariana Grande. She is VERY talented and her songs are SO catchy! I "dance walk" home from work every day listening to "Break Free" and "Problem" on repeat. I must admit, though, that I am irrationally irked by tiny people who have names with the word "big" in it. I know it's irrational, but it's like that skinny friend/acquaintance who's always pinching their non existent belly fat and telling you how they no longer fit into their child-sized jeggings.

5. Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett. Loved their duet, and really like Gaga's collaboration with him. It has reminded the world that, first and foremost, she is an incredibly talented singer and artist.

6. Kanye West stormed the stage when Beck beat Beyoncé, but laughed and ran off before grabbing the mic. Everyone thought it was a funny joke, but apparently he later told E! that he was serious, and that the Grammys weren't awarding true artistry. I have no words for this stunt.

7. I loved John Legend and Common's performance of "Glory" from the film Selma. It was a powerful way to close the show, and a great reminder for Academy voters, who just started voting on Friday, about the genius of this song nominated in the Best Song category at the Oscars.

8. Katy Perry lost both of her categories, meaning that she still does not have a Grammy, despite her impressive career and the record-breaking smash success of her Teenage Dream album. Loved her performance! She's a FIREWORK. Boom. Boom. Boom.

9. Madonna danced with a bunch of guys in Maleficent costumes. So nice of Angelina Jolie to lend the dancers extra costumes. Madonna can still rock it, but the provocateur nature of her performance seems mild, given the outrageousness of today's pop artists. Finally, the ascendancy to the sky/ceiling at the end of the performance was cool, but can never touch P!nk's high-flying, acrobatic work during her "Glitter in the Air" performance at the 2010 Grammys.

10. I enjoyed Kristen Wiig's surprise appearance as Sia's stand in for "Chandelier," as Sia does not face the audience while singing. Sia is such a phenomenal talent! Also, can you totally picture Kristen Wiig's SNL character, Penelope, having the ultimate one-upper after this performance? I picture it like this: "You sing in a choir? That's nice. Well, I performed at the Grammys. With Sia. In a onesie. And a wig. It was super awesome. Sia. Grammys. Onesie. Wig. LIVE." BTW, can Kristen Wiig be a stand in for me in all aspects of my life? Please and thank you.

What did you think of the 2015 Grammy Awards? What were your favorite moments? Let me hear your thoughts!

It isn't always just happy music and dancing. Singer-songwriters Katy Perry and Taylor Swift are engaged in an ongoing rivalry. The alleged incident that sparked the "bad blood" between them revolves around three of Katy's back-up dancers who auditioned for and received slots on Taylor's world tour in support of her album Red. While the dancers were mid-tour, Katy reached out to see if they would be interested in quitting the gig with Taylor in order to accompany Katy on her tour instead. All three agreed to leave.

Their fight has gone public in several hostile ways, and the anger and animosity between them is expressed through their music. For example, Taylor's song Bad Blood is reportedly about Katy, and this past weekend at the Super Bowl, Katy offered her own retaliation, making a subtle diss at Taylor by dressing several of her dancers in polka dot bikinis identical to a red one that Taylor owns and was photographed in a few years back. The question is, when and how do you let it go? What happens when you have a falling out with a friend?

Many people might find or have found themselves in this situation. For one reason or another, a rift developed between you and your longtime pal. Often, especially when you are younger, the temptation is to reach out and recruit support by getting as many friends as possible to take your side. While these alliances can take the sting out of what occurred, it can also fuel your anger because it justifies the fact that you were wronged.

Typically, when there is a conflict between two confidantes, one or both might feel betrayed by the other. Whether it was broken trust because someone took up with the other's ex or a secret was shared, there are many scenarios in which this could happen. Such betrayals are hard to heal from and get over, especially if there is no acknowledgment of what was done to hurt you. There are also times when the person who betrayed their friend isn't even aware of doing anything to stir up trouble in the relationship. In my book How Could You Do This To Me? I call this an Unaware Betrayal. It is not surprising that people continue to handle the breach of a friendship the first way they knew to do when they were younger, by gathering as many people as you can who agree with you.

If you are in a situation dealing with an angry and resentful former friend or colleague in which you know you did something to instigate the negative feelings, and it means enough to you to want to salvage things, it is never too late to take responsibility for what you did and say you are sorry. It is one of the best ways to repair the damage. On the flip side, if you sense something is wrong but you are clueless about what might be going on, as well as if you think you might have done something but you aren't sure what, you can always ask directly so that you give your friend the chance to voice their concerns and hopefully clear the air. If you are the one feeling betrayed, ask yourself if there were signs that you might have missed suggesting that your friend was not as trustworthy as you thought. In other words, take what you have learned from this so you can protect yourself better in the future.

Unlike Katy and Taylor, you are probably not going to sing about the betrayal you might have caused or taken the brunt of. But you can always talk it out.

Please tune in to the Doctor on Call radio hour on HealthyLife.net every Tuesday at 2 PM EST, 11 AM PST. First and third Tuesdays are Shrink Wrap on Call, second Tuesdays are HuffPost on Call, and the last Tuesday of the month is Let's Talk Sex! Email your questions dealing with relationships, intimacy, family, and friendships to Dr. Greer at askdrjane@drjanegreer.com.

Connect with Dr. Jane Greer on Facebook, at www.facebook.com/DrJaneGreer, and be sure to follow @DrJaneGreer on Twitter for her latest insights on love, relationships, sex, and intimacy.

For more on Dr. Greer, visit http://www.drjanegreer.com.

Tonight I'm joined by actor Eddie Redmayne, the Golden Globe-winning and Academy Award-nominated star of the hit film The Theory of Everything. The film portrays the story of real-life theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking and is based on the book by his first wife, Jane Wilde Hawking.

In the clip below, Eddie shares how his own outlook on life has changed after having interacted with Hawking and others impacted by ALS.

For more of our conversation, be sure to tune in to Tavis Smiley on PBS. Check our website for your local TV listings: pbs.org/tavis.

Helen Mirren and Ryan Reynolds in Woman in Gold, photo by Robert Viglasky, courtesy of The Weinstein Company

In his director's statement for the stunning new film Woman in Gold, which world premiered at this year's Berlinale as part of their Special Gala line-up, Simon Curtis writes "the film is about identity and asks the question, are you where you're from or where you are?"

The synopsis of the film in the press kit by The Weinstein Company goes on to describe their co-production with BBC Films as one woman's journey to reclaim Gustav Klimt's iconic Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, stolen from her family in Vienna by the Nazis. And yet, I personally felt such an intimate connection, such strong feelings and overwhelming emotions that I think the film is about so much more. Not that the original premise isn't reason enough to feel shame, anger and a sense of doom for things to come in the world anyway but Woman in Gold is about displacement, that idea that childhood is not a geographical place and our constant search for days past, to right the wrongs we felt and reconnect to our youth.

I may not be in my late 80s, as Maria Altmann (played by Helen Mirren) was at the time of the ordeal she went through to recover the stolen artwork, which had been hanging at the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, yet I still felt a sense of time past, of misplacement and displacement. A kinship with the film, its heroes and the victims of the Holocaust.

My family history does not include Holocaust survivors, or worse, its victims, yet my kinship with their exodus, their persecution is unavoidable. My own grandfather Hans Rothe received a 24-hour warning that the Nazis were ready to arrest him, for his likening Hitler to the worst Shakespearian villains in his translations and theater productions. It's a source of immense pride in my family, this act of artistic resistance on his part and perhaps the reason a film about injustice will always hit a nerve, and travel straight to my heart.

Yet Woman in Gold is definitely more than just a personal journey. It's a beautifully filmed, magnificently acted (by an ensemble cast that includes Ryan Reynolds, Daniel Brühl and even the filmmaker's own wife, Elizabeth McGovern, in a perfect cameo) and perfectly directed true work of art of a film. A film showcasing the past, celebrating the present but also giving us insight into the future. As Curtis so aptly pointed out during our interview in Berlin, the film is "a timely reminder that anybody picking on anybody for their race or religion is a very bad idea."

Below is the rest of our conversation, with a man both insightful and kind, a true cinematic gem.

What do you feel is the central theme of your film, now that you've achieved the finished product?

Simon Curtis: One of the themes of the film is a love letter to America's policy of immigration. An elderly woman who is herself an immigrant to America, having escaped Vienna, teams up with the grandson of another émigré from Vienna in America to take on this campaign to right the wrongs of the past. Is Maria in her 80s or 90s having lived in California for most of her life, an American or a Californian or is she a Viennese and an Austrian?

In some ways, it's the story of the Twentieth Century because we could argue that Vienna in the beginning of the century was the hotbed of all these interesting, complicated ideas. It was the discovery of the unconscious, it was arts and science and music and architecture all merged together... And then you could equally argue that Los Angeles was the city of the culture at the end of the Twentieth Century, and somehow Maria embodied that journey -- starting at one end of the century in Vienna and ending the century in Los Angeles.

Were you at all afraid that people would say, "oh no, not another film about the Holocaust?"

Simon Curtis: No, because for me there are very few Holocaust movies that are set in the now. And I believe this is a story that hadn't been told before.

Where do you typically get the inspiration to make your movies?

Simon Curtis: With My Week with Marilyn, I read the diaries the film is based on and that gave me the idea and in this case it was seeing a documentary [about these events], and I just thought, there's a film in that, a dramatic film that can take you into rooms where the documentary can't take you, to tell that story.

You address displacement in such a perfectly subtle way in your film, I have to ask, what is your own background?

Simon Curtis: I've grown up in a Jewish family in London and my grandfather's family came from Poland, so that's in my blood but I've had the best of both worlds. That's in my blood and yet I've grown up entirely in London.

Did you always have Helen Mirren in mind to play Maria?

Simon Curtis: No, absolutely didn't. Obviously when you're casting a woman of Maria's age there's a list of actresses you can go after, all of whom, I'm lucky to have worked with and have relationships with. But Helen is very special to me. The first thing I ever did was as an assistant director on a production of Measure for Measure that she was in, in the 1970s. So I'd known her in that way and I used to make her coffee and help her with her fan mail, and that's pretty much all I did on this film as well with her...

What are the basic difference in directing for the theater and for a film?

Simon Curtis: Well directing for theater is all about helping an actor create a performance that can be repeated, night after night; in film it's all about helping an actor create a performance that lives for a moment and then disappears. I think of myself as very actor-centric as a director. I'm really proud that the ensemble in this film is not only the main actors who are great but even people who turned up for a day seemed to be great and I'm very proud of that.

I like to be very ambitious with my casting too and I call in a lot of favors. Like Jonathan Pryce, playing the Chief Justice. He said to me you know, "I've been offered "cough and a spit" but this neither a cough nor a spit," but I managed to get him to do it.

Why should this film be viewed, today?

Simon Curtis: For me, right now, where we're sitting here, antisemitism is being discussed all over the world, so it seems to me a very timely moment to release the film. To remind people of the perils of picking on any race or religion. It's not a German issue -- it's a worldwide issue. One of the most depressing things about this new century we live in is we don't seem to appear, as humans, to have learned the lessons of the Twentieth Century.

Have your daughters watched the film yet?

Simon Curtis: They have. For me it's a love letter to family. Cherish your family, you don't know where you are heading. So it's important for me, for my daughters, they share a love of family and that's what shines through.

Do you always bring a lot of yourself into a film?

Simon Curtis: Well, I want to. I look for projects where I can do that. And I hope and I did try, obviously it's about serving the script first and foremost, I do like to bring stories that I can empathize with. This film is unlike anything else I've ever done, I was in the moment so often. Do you know what I mean? I mean it's difficult to feel what Marilyn Monroe could feel in that moment but this... I always sort of had an instinct for.

I think that's why it is so successful for your audience!

Simon Curtis: I'm glad you say that. But there is a parallel with Marilyn in that Randy [the character played by Ryan Reynolds], like Colin Clark, both of them unexpectedly get this golden ticket to go on this journey into this world and I suppose I empathize with that too because I feel I've been so lucky to get into, make these films.

What are three words that describe you?

Simon Curtis: Hopefully, passionate committed and funny.

All images courtesy of The Weinstein Company, used with permission.

Valentine's Day-timed Romeo and Juliet tie-ins can be found everywhere, from the upper-middle-brow NEH-funded PBS series Shakespeare Uncovered, which premiers a Joseph Fiennes-hosted episode on Romeo and Juliet on February 13th, to San Francisco's campy Castro Theatre, where the fare for February 14th is a "Marc Huestis presents" screening of the 1968 Franco Zeffirelli film, complete with an in-person appearance by Leonard Whiting, Zeffirelli's Romeo (and heartthrob of an entire generation of gay men). It's timely proof that Romeo and Juliet remains the world's favorite love story.

But this popularity is hardly a testament to the lasting power of Renaissance high culture. Rather, it reflects how we cling to the idea of a love story that we've collectively projected onto Romeo and Juliet, while ignoring the most fascinating, troubling and cautionary aspects of Shakespeare's play. Because if you believe Romeo and Juliet is a romantic tale about teens in true love who are kept apart by feuding parents, you've completely missed the point.

Romeo is a lascivious creep you wouldn't want dating your 13-year-old daughter.

Romeo meets Juliet after donning a disguise and sneaking uninvited into a party thrown by her father. This bit of trickery is necessitated by the enmity between their families. But our attachment to the idea of Romeo and Juliet as star-crossed lovers obscures the fact that Romeo sneaks in to seduce another member of the Capulet clan, Juliet's cousin Rosaline. Despite Rosaline's vow to remain chaste, Romeo confides to his buddies Benvolio and Mercutio that he even offered to "ope her lap to saint-seducing gold" -- a poetic way to say he tried to pay Rosaline to let him deflower her.

Upon seeing Juliet, Romeo fickly turns his attention to her. But he remains a sordid character. Just one hour after marrying Juliet, Romeo whines to himself that her "beauty hath made me effeminate," and proceeds to prove his manhood by stabbing her other cousin, Tybalt, to death.

Juliet's father isn't a cruel villain trying to force his daughter into an unhappily-ever-after marriage.

For much of the play, Lord Capulet is the character most in line with our modern ideas about romance. During the not-so-good-old days of the 14th century in which Romeo and Juliet is set, marriage was a means for wealthy Italian families to form political and business alliances. Typically, a father decided whom his daughter should marry. But Lord Capulet doesn't want to exercise this option.

We learn this when Paris -- a nephew to the city's ruling prince and thus exactly the sort of well-connected son-in-law any paterfamilias should want -- presses Lord Capulet to give him Juliet in marriage. Lord Capulet responds, "woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart/ My will to her consent is but a part/ An she agree, within her scope of choice / Lies my consent and fair according voice." In other words, he says Juliet should get to decide the not-so-unimportant question of whom she'll marry.

So why doesn't he let Juliet marry Romeo? Because she weds Romeo in secret, never giving her father a chance to accept him as a viable suitor. Which he may well have done, given that back when Romeo crashed the Capulet party, Lord Capulet protected him. Tybalt (not yet dead) recognized Romeo and was ready to show the interloper what happens when you don't RSVP properly -- until Lord Capulet stopped him. An unfortunate choice for Tybalt's long-term health outcomes, but also an indication that Lord Capulet might have been amenable to Romeo courting his daughter.

Later in the play, Lord Capulet does say he'll make Juliet marry Paris. But by that point, Tybalt is dead, which Lord Capulet thinks is the reason Juliet has become so unhappy. He vows he'll cheer her up with a handsome, noble husband. It's not exactly a Hallmark card and a sympathy floral arrangement, but again, Lord Capulet has no idea she's ever met Romeo, let alone clandestinely married him.

Romeo and Juliet only became a teen love-story in the 20th century.

Although dialogue in the play reveals that Juliet is a few weeks shy of her 14th birthday, Shakespeare never tells us Romeo's age. In the era in which the play takes place, men usually married later in life, to much younger wives, making it likely that Romeo is at least twice as old as Juliet. So why do we think of Romeo and Juliet as star-crossed teenage lovers?

Blame an odd combination of post-WWII social science and the pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel. That's where composer Leonard Bernstein and playwright Arthur Laurents dreamed up a Latino-themed musical version of Shakespeare's love story, resulting in West Side Story's Puerto Rican Sharks and their rivals, the Jets. But the 1957 play drew as much on the sociological mindset reflected in Rebel Without a Cause as it did on Romeo and Juliet, with a libretto, lyrics, and even choreography all influenced by then-popular social science regarding "problems" like immigration and juvenile delinquency.

A decade later, 1960s youth culture inspired Zeffirelli's Summer of Love-infused film, in which Juliet and Romeo are the ultimate teens rebelling against square parents. By the time Baz Luhrmann took up the mantle (or the doublet) in 1996, the idealization of youth culture -- and the romanticizing of the doomed lovers--had become an undeniable part of the story. Luhrmann even gives the lovers one final scene together in the tomb, both awake before they die in each other's arms. If only Shakespeare had thought of that.

Romeo and Juliet weren't even the stars of the show.

Although fans of Whiting and Olivia Hussey, of Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes, or of Fiennes and Gwyneth Paltrow might not believe it, the plum roles that generations of actors wanted to play, and generations of theater-goers were turning out to see, were actually Mercutio and the nurse, both of whom are unrepentant scene-stealers.

In Juliet's first scene, she has only eight lines; the nurse, has more than 60. Overall, Shakespeare gave the nurse more lines than any other character in the play besides Romeo or Juliet, and Juliet actually speaks more of her lines to the nurse than to Romeo. These days the nurse is generally written off as comic relief, but in her first scene, she alludes to the heart-rendering loss of her own child, foreshadowing the deaths that end the play. Samuel Johnson praised the complexity of the nurse's character in his annotated edition of Shakespeare, and Jim Carter, aka the future Mr. Carson on Downton Abbey, gave her top billing in Shakespeare in Love. I found Juliet's nurse so compelling, I wrote an entire novel about her.

As for Mercutio, in his most famous speeches he mocks lovesick Romeo, reminding the audience of the folly of Romeo's fickle infatuations. (In Mercutio's other speeches, he is mocking everybody else.) He proves so appealingly snide that there's even an apocryphal tradition -- promoted by John Dryden -- that Shakespeare declared he was obliged to kill Mercutio in the third act, or be killed by him. But Mercutio speaks with more perspicacity regarding humanity than any other character in the play. Ultimately, what distinguishes both the nurse and Mercutio is the way they balance the comic and the tragic, making them far more deeply drawn than the eponymous young lovers.

Double suicide is not the best basis for a rom-com.

It sounds a little obvious when you say it this way: A story in which a 13-year-old girl is seduced by a deceiving cad who turns out to be a killer, then is convinced by a prevaricating priest to fake her own death, and finally ends up committing suicide for real -- this should not be a global model of a love story.

Romeo and Juliet is, after all, one of Shakespeare's tragedies (as compared to Much Ado About Nothing, a comedy containing a more successful scheme involving a faked death, resulting in two happily wedded couples). A convention of tragedy is that the characters who die should do so in a way that transforms the ones who live. If this were true for Romeo and Juliet, Lord Capulet and Lord Montague would learn their lesson by the end of the play and, moved by their children's deaths, put aside their "ancient grudge."

But the tragedy of this play extends beyond the title characters, in a way that suggests that misreading Romeo and Juliet, and thus Romeo and Juliet, is irresistible, and perhaps inevitable. Even as they stand over a pile of lifeless bodies in the final scene, Capulet and Montague revert to the same competitive behavior that prolonged their feud. Invited to take Capulet's hand to signal a newfound peace, Montague instead vows to build a gold statue of Juliet, his erstwhile enemy's daughter -- a show of his own wealth that incites Capulet to say he'll erect a matching statue of Romeo. Still eager to engage in this weird one-upmanship masquerading as benevolence, they miss the potentially redemptive point of the play.

And so, it seems, do we. Helped along by a legacy of 20th-century pop culture and our less-than-insightful high school readings of Romeo and Juliet, we continue to indulge our persistent desire to romanticize a play that might be Shakespeare's greatest critique of romanticizing something (and someone) that really isn't that romantic after all.

As long as my memory serves, every year around this time I have been planted in front of a TV to watch the Oscars.

As a little girl, I watched them religiously with my mother and my sisters on our tiny black and white TV set in our little apartment. It was a delicious treat that she let us stay up so late on a school night; she was very cool that way, my mom. A huge Hollywood buff and Photoplay magazine devotee, she knew all the stars of the day and provided back stories for the presenters and winners as they took the stage.

"Now, that is Cary Grant. He's from Surrey in England."

"Oh, here's Joan Crawford, girls. She happens to be a very successful businesswoman as well."

While living single in large cities, my fellow movie aficionados and I would gather for the telecast without fail. One year, it was a formal dress-up. I borrowed a gorgeous black taffeta evening gown from my friend in the apartment next door. As luck would have it, she was a vintage clothing collector. I cut out a picture of a gold Oscar statue from a magazine, glued a backer to it and positioned it on my head alongside my chignon as a fascinator. Add elbow length lace gloves, bejeweled cigarette holder, sky high pumps, a fur stole and let the relentless critiquing begin.

Some years were quieter celebrations, but just as ceremonial. Even watching them on my own, I bowed to the sense of occasion. I lined up my time-honored snacks, burrowed under my favorite quilt and glued myself to the proceedings, shouting at the screen the entire time.

You was robbed, Fargo. You was robbed.

Ordinary People over Raging Bull... WTF?

What the hell has Cher got on? Is it an actual wet suit?

They did not just give it to Sally Field! Did they even see Silkwood?

Shakespeare In Love takes it? What the what?

Winona Ryder. Hon. Did you comb your hair with a towel?

One year a co-worker asked if I'd join her to watch the program. Against my better judgment, as I didn't know the girl well, I agreed. When I arrived that evening, a half hour early, I found her and her boyfriend snuggled on the couch watching hockey.

Stifling a yawn, she looked up at me and asked: "Do you know what time it starts?"

The numbing realization settled in that I was in very deep trouble.

"Eight p.m. As ever," I said crisply.

She turned to her boyfriend. "Boo, the first period should be finished by then, shouldn't it?"

Staring at the screen, he mumbled: "How should I know?"

I immediately called a cab. Luckily, my taxi driver ran two yellows and I only missed the first five minutes.

I still shudder at the memory of one particular year that found me on a Caribbean island at Oscar time. I had rented a cottage on the sea and made sure it included cable. I was all set. Or so I thought. A few days before the telecast, I was idly flipping through the channels and discovered the TV feed didn't include the networks. I remember well the realization dawning -- as unto an apocalypse -- that I actually might miss the show for the first time. In desperation, I set out on a personal mission to track down a network feed somewhere, anywhere, on the island.

I resorted to stopping people randomly at the little town in the harbor.

"Your hair looks great," I told a woman behind me in line at the food store. "Do you get the networks?"

"What do you mean, networks?" she queried, innocently.

I am doomed, I thought, abandoning my groceries and heading for the door.

Verging on hysterics, I considered any and all options. Bribes. Unveiled threats. Making promises no self-respecting woman would ever make.

Come the day of the awards I was strolling the beach, resigned, disconsolate, when I spotted a couple walking toward me. They looked urbane, media-savvy. Hope bubbled within me.

I approached them. I had entirely abandoned the social niceties by this time.

"I make a chocolate cheesecake that will make you weep. If I bring one with me can I come to your house tonight and watch the Oscar telecast?"

"Oh, and if you promise not to talk during them, I'll throw in a plate of my almond toffee bars."

Astoundingly, they agreed to both propositions. I showed up at their door that night with promised treats in tow. Exulting, I decided to ease up on my hosts, announcing that I would allow them two questions and/or comments during the show. But only two. I advised that they make them count.

My hostess asked a question the moment the first presenter took the stage.

"Did you know the first film to be made entirely in Hollywood was a 17-minute short in 1910 by D.W. Griffith?" Her delivery was crisp, authoritative.

There was a God. No longer was I a stranger in a strange land. The gentleman announced, casually, he had dabbled in writing screenplays and that a book adaptation of his had once been green lit by Paramount.

They kept me on my toes the entire night. I had scored, and I had scored big.

Marlon Brando and Albert Finney both turned down the lead in Lawrence of Arabia before it was offered to O'Toole? Really?

I knew Hitchcock never won an Oscar, but had forgotten he was given the Irving Thalberg Memorial Award in 1968. He spoke only five words in his acceptance speech, my hostess noted.

"All he said was: 'Thank you. Very much, indeed.'"

Did I know the iconic ice cream scene in Kramer vs. Kramer with the irate father (Dustin Hoffman) and his stubborn son was entirely improvised? I was feign to admit I did not. Where had I been?

I'd never enjoyed the Oscars more.

We reminisced about when George C. Scott became the first actor to reject an Oscar in 1971 (for Patton).

I redeemed myself, I hoped, by quoting him before taking my leave.

"The Oscars are a two-hour meat parade with contrived suspense for economic reasons."

He added that the entire undertaking was "offensive, barbarous and innately corrupt."

There, there, George. Of course it is.

And your point?

_____

www.triciamccallum.com

What are the odds that someone is nominated for a Grammy award? 1 in a million. What are the odds that two brothers from St. Thomas, Virgin Islands are nominated for a grammy thrice? Not likely.

Sunday's 57th Annual Grammy Awards show was memorable for many reasons. One reason in fact is the phenomena that is Rock City. The St. Thomas pair was nominated three times -- (2) for Best Pop Vocal Album: Ariana Grande's My Everything, Miley Cyrus's Bangerz; (1) Best Rap Album: Iggy Azalea's The New Classic.

Before the live show in LA, the two Grammy-award winning brothers Theron and Timothy Thomas visited Clark Atlanta University in Atlanta for a press conference to discuss their three Grammy nominations, journey to success, and new song "I'm That... (feat. 2 Chainz)."

Rock City's Theron (left) and Timothy Thomas (right) photographed by Imani Crenshaw.

Like Langston Hughe's maternal sentiments of "Mother to Son," the two brothers from St. Thomas's Oswald Harris Court Projects or "Housin'" proudly exclaim, "life for [them] ain't been no crystal stair."

"We lose, we fall, we fail, but we don't know stop," the two admitted.

The two brothers were born of a garbage man and bartender grew up in a green shack in the middle of the 32-sq. mile paradise of St. Thomas. Until 2007, the song-writing duo shared a bed in their parents' home.

Nevertheless, they never let their circumstances define their success. The two moved to Miami in 2000 to begin their music career in the U.S. While in the States, the collaborated After not much success in the Miami nightlife scene the brothers returned to St. Thomas to work for Kroger (Theron) and Party City (Timothy) in 2005. The next year they wrote their first major song "The Rain" for Akon's triple-platinum selling album Konvicted.

Since 9-years old, their parents supported their music industry dreams and encouraged them to cultivate their talents. Their families motivate their intense work ethic. The two produced and wrote hits like Rihanna's "Pour It Up," Beyoncé's "Bow Down/I Been On," and Luke James' "Exit Wounds."

"I don't want my mom to have a regular job," Theron explained.

Photographed by Brian Young.

Rock City's new project #WhatDreamsAreMadeOf is an homage to St. Thomas and their struggle. They hope their new project can narrate the stories many have overcome and still face, specifically growing up disadvantaged and in poverty.

R.City's "I'm That... (feat. 2 Chainz)" is available on iTunes now.

I sadly never had the opportunity to meet my uncle, Alan Turing. We share some very basic similarities -- we both attended Sherborne and King's College, Cambridge, both have an affinity for mathematics, both have ties to Bletchley Park -- but that's about it. I couldn't possibly claim to have achieved anything in the realm of what he did, but nevertheless I've always considered my relation to him a tremendous source of pride.

If we were to ignore his presence in our family background, we'd be turning our backs on a link to one of history's truly great men. This was a man who was confident, and some might say eccentric, enough to put his name to a letter to Winston Churchill requesting his help in getting additional resources to his codebreaking team (Churchill answered swiftly and forcefully in Alan's favor). It's also been said that Churchill believed Alan Turing and the codebreakers of Bletchley should be credited with the single biggest contribution to Allied victory in the war against Nazi Germany.

Do a quick Google search into the public tributes that he's received and you'll find a wealth of reasons to think that my uncle has been remembered to the utmost extent; there are foundations, streets, awards, museum exhibitions, theatre productions, TV movies and countless books out there bearing his name.

The Imitation Game brings Alan to life in a rather different way -- Benedict Cumberbatch and the team behind it managed not just to remind us about all his innovations and their magnitude; they also succeeded in making Alan a living, breathing, feeling human being who was complicated, strange, brilliant, caring and staunch in his belief that he would live life as he chose to. He was not afraid to challenge conventions, nor did he shy away from his identity as a homosexual.

The film paints a new picture of my uncle and, at times, it is a bit heart-wrenching. This is not, of course, to diminish the importance of talking about his genius or the fact that he spared countless lives with his work during the Second World War -- and the film is sure to thank him for all of that.

There was time, not all that many years ago, when I'm fairly certain that no one who hadn't been specifically schooled in computer science had ever heard of Alan. That began to change back in 2009, when Prime Minister Gordon Brown issued him a formal apology on behalf of the UK government for the treatment he endured before his death. It happened again four years later, when the UK Government secured a royal pardon for the same reasons.

These were opportunities not just to acknowledge the absurdity of Alan's treatment for being a gay man but also the means of reviving the discussion around his vast accomplishments. The Imitation Game is a moving tribute and brings out a side of Alan Turing which doesn't readily come across in a history book or an encyclopedia page.

This post originally appeared at The London Evening Standard.

What film will win the Best Picture Oscar this year? Will it be the one with the greatest production accomplishment? Will it be the one that takes you deep inside a character's subjective world-view and makes you see life from his limited perspective? Or, will it be the story that has the most historical significance?

I love and appreciate the accomplishments of all of the films nominated for Best Picture this year. From a story perspective, most of them were spot on. We felt the stories. We rooted for the outcomes. We were mesmerized by the transformations. We applauded the spirit. We learned about people and situations that contributed to our world today. We connected with the emotional moments on a universal level. We felt the loss. We applauded the contributions. We grew up and we evolved. Yet still, some of the films resonated with me a lot more than others.

At the moment the three major contenders for best film appear to be Boyhood, Birdman and The Imitation Game. All three movies are brilliant in very different ways. It will be interesting to see if the voters go for nostalgia and production accomplishment, what life looks like from a limited worldview through incredible cinematic vision or the significance of a contribution left to the world by someone who while alive was never celebrated for his astounding accomplishments.

In Boyhood, we see the moments of what it is to grow up, what it is to parent, and what it is to evolve. We see a family start, fall apart, and come back together. We see our own families in some of these moments and feel our own nostalgia for what it is to grow up. The storytelling is not conventional. It is pieces of a life. I loved seeing what scenes were chosen to reflect the growth of the boy and the family. The determination it took to film over 12 years is a mind-blowing accomplishment.

With Birdman, we experience what it is to see the world through a very limited worldview. I wrote a long time ago,"The best way to tell a strong story is to be present when your own is happening." This idea is reflected in the wound/flaw of BIRDMAN'S central character; his inability to be present. At first it feels like a narcissistic rant, but the story moves into deeper territory. It hits on universal themes with his of regret over a past choice, dysfunctional familial relationships, (the one that seems to cause him the most pain is between he and his daughter, and honestly, their dynamic is one of my FAVORITE parts of the film), his addiction/obsession with feeling validated, his limited worldview due to being manic, his living in what was versus what is, the list goes on. BIRDMAN made me empathize with life from his perspective. It resonated with me strongly because it 's about the idea of the moments we can miss when we're not present while in pursuit of a dream. The way that it's shot like a play makes it stand out even more.

In The Imitation Game, we learn about the tremendous contribution made by an individual whose intelligence and leadership shortened the Second World War and saved millions of lives. The tragedy is that such a beautiful mind was convicted for the then criminal offense of homosexuality. The precipitating events shortened his life, and he didn't live to see his secret role in the war declassified and his accomplishment celebrated. This story is phenomenal. I thought every character and every moment was threaded perfectly throughout. I loved how Alan named his machine after his childhood love, Christopher, who influenced him to go into cryptography and whose own life ended far too soon. Alan names his machine Christopher so his first love can live on. The film's dialogue is witty and clever. The goal is clear. The stakes are very high and we are reminded of them throughout. The subtext in certain moments takes you deep into how Alan Turing views the world and what keeps him isolated. I really felt this story. I loved the quote that was delivered in three different critical moments, "Sometimes it is the very people who no one imagines anything of who do the things that no one can imagine."

All three films are tremendous achievements in varying ways and all have great value. It will be fascinating to see if the voters cast their ballots for nostalgia and duration accomplishment, regret over life's missed moments or historical significance and contribution. All three movies bring us into life perspectives that make us feel the powerful themes of the films.

When Benjamin Scheuer walks onto the Lynn Redgrave Theater stage, picking up an acoustic guitar, announcing he's 10 years old, you believe him. He is about to tell his story in song, accompanying himself with several guitars, instruments he mastered at his father's knee. His one-man show, The Lion, follows him through a Freudian mind field, coming of age under the tutelage of this strict father and finding his own roar; you weep at his misfortunes, particularly loss and then survival, which Scheuer has managed to express so beautifully in his music.

Gina Gershon, Caroline Rhea, Montego Glover, Jeanine Tesori whose Fun Home will come to Broadway this spring, and Richard LaGravenese whose movie of the musical, The Last Five Years, will open this weekend, were among the many well-wishers at Sunday's opening. Director Sean Daniels who helped nurture The Lion through its original highly successful production at Manhattan Theatre Club, and then at the St. James in London, said, audiences respond to Benjamin Scheuer's unique story because it shows that "great things can come from terrible events."

The next night at City Winery, Benjamin Scheuer joined It's Only a Play stars Martin Short and Katie Finneran, Rebecca Naomi Jones and the PigPen Theater Company in celebration of Williamstown Theater Festival. A promotional film had Lewis Black asking the proverbial man on the street what WTF stood for and got "what the f--k" from just about everyone, but then actors, Jessica Hecht and Patricia Clarkson weighed in on the importance of Williamstown to theater production.

This summer's Williamstown program will feature Audra McDonald and Will Swenson in Eugene O'Neill's A Moon for the Misbegotten, Kyra Sedgwick in William Inge's Off the Main Road, and Dominique Morisseau's Paradise Blue to be directed by Ruben Santiago-Hudson. Cynthia Nixon will star in Carey Perloff's Kinship. Jo Bonney will direct.

The current production of The Elephant Man is an example of Williamstown's key role. The project grew out of Bradley Cooper's obsession with the historic Joseph (John) Merrick; the American Sniper star who works hard to mangle his matinee idol looks for this character often tells the story of how the play's revival grew out of Williamstown. Now one of the biggest hits on Broadway, its stars, Cooper, Clarkson, and Alessandro Nivola, are sure to win Tony awards for their stunning performances.

A version of this post also appears on Gossip Central.

We open with Kelsie having a fake panic attack while the other women gaze at her unmoved. She is trying to make sure that Chris doesn't dump her after she insisted that Chris isn't going to dump her. Kelsie looks sly and sneaky beneath her oxygen mask, which is no small feat, but this is the woman who's an unlikable young widow, so she has skillz with a Z. Chris bends over Kelsie on the floor, and she tries to imply that he made her faint by telling the other women that she shared her widow story with him. Master manipulator strikes again.

Kelsie says, "The wave of all the emotions was too much and I fainted." Hello, Simon and Schuster? Get this woman a book deal. She is so eloquent. Whitney doubts that Chris will give Kelsie a rose for fainting, which shows that she is a fool, because anyone who faints gets a rose. Chris obviously feels distaste for Kelsie, like people feel for the undead or other unnatural creatures, but will he be able to eliminate her after her faux panic attack? You'll have to wait till after this skin care commercial to find out. Wait, the redhead from Grey's Anatomy that was McSteamy's ex wife is the Garnier girl? Disorienting. There is a Chanel perfume commercial that makes me wish I were young again. Maybe I can recapture the feeling by purchasing a bottle of perfume. Sounds fail-safe.

Rose ceremony. The girls despise Kelsie. The hatred radiates out of their eyes, or are those false eyelashes? Both. Ashley the Pseudo-Kardashian (PK) cries for a change. Kelsie still is confident. It's between the single mom and Kelsie and Chris picks Kelsie! What can he be thinking? Kelsie is probably an android. The single mom was at least a sweet person. Carly calls Kelsie a black widow, which is a pretty good insult for an actual widow.

We see Chris's bare chest for no reason. There isn't even a pretend reason. Unrelatedly, now everyone is going to South Dakota because it's the one place in the US that The Bachelor has not already visited in other seasons. The girls are valiantly trying to act like this place is as cool as an actually cool place. We see a white cat and there is ominous music. The producers apparently couldn't find a black cat. Close enough.

Kelsie says she feels like she deserves a one on one. Instead, Becca gets the one on one. Kelsie looks like someone just killed her husband and then refused to allow her to utilize the story of the murder to get dates with other men. We see Chris walking through a meadow and greeting Becca. They are a remarkably healthy, American looking couple. Their babies would come out smelling of apple pie and literal thinking. Chris says Becca looks "smoking hot on that horse." God, if I had a nickel for every time a guy said that about me, I would have no nickels. Becca is nice and boring. So Chris probably won't pick her, because he is also nice and boring. Nice and boring usually goes for dramatic. Mark my words.

Back at the sorority house, Whitney tells Kelsie she's fake in not so many words. Kelsie backpedals and basically comes off manipulative and slightly sociopathic. Kelsie says, "I get it. I'm blessed with eloquence, and I use a lot of big words, because I'm smart." For real, she says that. In the confessional, but still. I wonder if one of the big words she knows is "narcissist."

Chris and Becca roast marshmallows over the fire and sing God Bless America and move west in covered wagons because they are so goddamn all American. They laugh together, and Chris likes her, because she's a hot female. Now they start talking about having FOUR TO SIX KIDS. Godspeed, you beautiful blonde breeders. Chris and Becca talk about their future relationship or their past relationships or something, it's so boring. that I need a snack.

Cut to the house. The date card arrives. Everyone hopes Kelsie gets a two on one and then gets eliminated. She does get the two on one, with PK, who has metamorphosed into Elvira via the careful application of makeup. Kelsie obviously says she's going to win.

Back on the date, Becca, who is a virgin, giggles over the idea of her Dad seeing her kiss on TV. Don't worry Becca, it'll just make it easier when he sees you disappear into the Fantasy Suite to emerge without your maidenhead.

Group date. Chris says he loves country music. Of course he does. The people who sing "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" are here. Some of the women are excited. I am not. Jade says that she's "on a struggle bus" when trying to write a song. I'm on a struggle bus trying to not judge someone who uses that phrase. Maybe it's a lost cause bus. Someone please correct me if she didn't really say struggle bus. Wait, I googled it. Struggle bus is a real phrase. Mind blown. Or, mind blown bus. Then Chris and Britt classily make out in front of all the other women. This intensifies Jade's struggle bus. The bus is basically on life support now.

Chris sings a country song that he made up and the women swoon, reswoon and superswoon. Swoon bus. The girls all sing songs back to him and Chris eats it up. Then Carly sings her song, and since she's an actual singer, she obviously rocks it. Jade sings despite her insecurity and everyone loves it. Moral of the story: sing country songs in order to get a farmer to love you. Also, be young and hot. Chris loves that Jade put herself out there to sing despite being nervous. Jade tells him she "could see being in Iowa." And she doesn't follow it up with fake retching.

Chris takes Britt to ... a concert? What is going on? The other women remark on how Chris and Britt have such a strong connection and it makes them feel bad. So Chris takes Britt to a concert and leaves the other women just sitting there on the group date. He gives her the rose onstage. Wow, he is really being crap to the other women. Britt is crying with joy. I told you guys women love public displays of affection. Chris comes back in with Britt and the women are mad at him, probably because he just LEFT THE DATE and had his own one on one with Britt. WTF, Chris. You're not being very farming. You're being a bit of a motherfarmer, actually. Whoa, they were gone for over an hour. The women cry and feel "humiliated" and "invisible," probably because, to reiterate, Chris just LEFT THE GROUP DATE AND MADE HIS OWN ONE ON ONE.

Now PK and Kelsie, aka The Black Widow, have their two on one. Chris waits by a helicopter, where he has secreted Britt to usurp both women. Just kidding, hopefully. The three of them fly around the Badlands. I think he's going to eliminate both of them. PK attacks Chris with her weird kissing style. It's kind of like what the octopus in The Rainbow Fish

would kiss like. PK is telling Chris that Kelsie is fake. Now he has alone time with The Black Widow who places her hand on his shoulder in an awkward way. She tells him that he should know she can be a wife because she's been one already, "so your difficult decision is determining: am I the kind of wife that you want?" And he says NO NO NO. In his head. But he brings up that the girls think she's fake BY THROWING ASHLEY UNDER THE BUS and saying Ashley just told him that. WTF Chris? You are breaking honor codes left and right.

The Black Widow cries and says PK is "playing a game" but she, the Black Widow is "a woman." She says to PK, "I know what you did." The plot thickens and we learn that PK and The Black Widow both have their Masters degrees, which is more shocking than if Chris actually had a vagina. A vagina with a Masters degree. PK goes off to find Chris, hopefully to yell at him for ratting her out. Yup. He says sorry and comforts her. She cries and cries and I think he's finally going to cut her loose. Yup, he does, by saying what anyone with half a brain knew, which is that she wouldn't be happy with his lifestyle. She flips out. Kelsie smiles as PK approaches in tears. PK is really sobbing. Poor girl. Holy #$%# I think Chris is going to dump Kelsie too! I called it! I totally called it! Bam! He says he doesn't know if "it's there" between them. Chris flies away in a helicopter and vultures eat Kelsie's carcass. Back at the house, the production assistants pick up Kelsie's suitcase and the women rejoice and pop open champagne, literally.

Next time, there is a TWO DAY BACHELOR EVENT which basically means I will get nothing done for two nights straight. Britt appears to have a mental breakdown and the women actually see Iowa, and, gasp, don't like it. Oh, also, Jade is a Playboy model. No biggie. Till we meet again, I remain, The Blogapist Who Thinks Britt Will Probably Win, Unless She Actually Is Committed Into a Mental Hospital, And Probably Even Then.

For more recaps, visit Dr. Psych Mom, or join Dr. Rodman on Facebook or Twitter @DrPsychMom.

It's far too common to pit women in popular music against one another. And, after Madonna and Annie Lennox delivered their respective performances on the 57th Grammy Awards on Sunday, that's exactly what happened. As both these strong female trailblazers came to prominence in the 1980s, many in the cyber sphere wanted to admonish one over the other.

But, first off, comparing Annie Lennox and Madonna musically is a false equivalence. They are, generally, two different types of artists, popular for different reasons, each with separate skill sets: one is a rock, blue-eyed soul vocalist about big vocal performances, the other is a dance-pop, self-proclaimed "show girl" with a talent for theatrics, messages, dancing and spectacle. Both are entertainment masters in their own right.

But, simmering underneath their performances was a vitriolic conversation online and in the media about age. With just four years difference (Lennox, 60 and Madonna, 56), there were countless remarks on how one was acting "appropriately," and one was not. One was "a class act" and one was not. But when it comes to aging -- just like their musical careers -- these women have two separate approaches and journeys entirely their own.

Annie Lennox is a spectacular musical talent, and she's pushed identity roles throughout her career through strong feminist activism. As she's matured, she has also, in many respects, "followed the rules" of aging as dictated by society: She doesn't try and disguise her age, she wears nice "age appropriate" attire on the red carpet, covering most her body (omitting the outrageousness of her neon-orange crew cut, 80s-breakout, Eurythmics "Sweet Dreams" era, and the dramatics of her 90s diva days), her "current" song "I Put a Spell on You" is a stunning rendition of a 1956 standard and her latest album of jazz standards is called Nostalgia. It's very comforting on a certain level because it's what we're used to experiencing with people "of that age." It meets our collective expectation. We've seen mothers and grandmothers like this. And there's a certain glorious-ness to Lennox seemingly accepting herself and meeting herself at her own age (or what being that age means to her).

Madonna has opted to go a more modern and, dare I say, subversive route. Physically, she tries to look the best she possibly can for her age, even decades younger (utilizing everything from intense workouts to diet to alleged surgery), and she dresses unconventionally and scantily (even cheekily flashing the Grammy red carpet her bare bum).

Musically, she works with younger producers and continues creating modern music. And she is not about to stop being the same provocative artist she's always been. "Is there a rule? Are people just supposed to die when they're 40?" she famously said in a 1992 interview at age 34 , lamenting how people aren't supposed to be "adventurous" or "sexual" after maxing their 30s. Madonna has always challenged culture norms and "rules" about behavior, particularly rules in relation to women and how people are told they can and can't express themselves.

And rules about age are rapidly changing. Marianne Williamson in her book, The Age of Miracles: Embracing the New Midlife, makes an invaluable point: While a rapidly growing segment of our population is living to be over 100, it's not that our lives are getting extended at the end, but in the middle. With the help of modern medicine, cosmetics and a better understanding of diet and exercise, we are staying healthier and looking better longer, and we are becoming more fully ourselves -- or, at least, we have the potential to do so.

This creates a new space to recreate what it means to be "you" in those middle years of life. Williamson says:

If we allow ourselves the power of an independent imagination -- thought-forms that don't flow in a perfunctory manner from ancient assumptions merely handed down to us, but rather flower into new archetypal images of a humanity just getting started at 45 or 50.

Madonna might actually be helping reshape the paradigm for what it means for people to self-express in their 50s and beyond. Her unparalleled success as a global cultural icon means she charts territory no one has quite navigated before at such huge level. It makes us initially uncomfortable. It pushes buttons. But, ultimately, it creates a path for people to choose outside what's expected and what current norms allow.

Her ability to do this throughout her career, to create paths for people previously untraveled, has been one of her greatest gifts. In the 1980s and 90s with her sexual politics, she helped redefine what it meant to be a "feminist," from the 70s stereotypical "bra-burner" into a woman who could be sexy and overtly sexual (even wear bras as outerwear!), yet still very much in control of her own destiny. It was a new way of being. She also deeply pushed boundaries of comfort by embracing gay rights at a time when nearly no celebrity would touch the topic (much less show it on stage, TV or in movies) and she was an AIDS activist and safe sex advocate in the early days of the 80s and 90s AIDS crisis -- she contributed to the advocacy of gays becoming commonplace as she played a role, remodeling minds and attitudes.

And in the 90s and 2000s -- from Catholicism to Kabbalah -- she has helped audiences rethink religion and spirituality and their ties to patriarchy and sexuality. Her hallmark has always been subversion. She is part of the system, of mainstream corporate pop -- which is her platform -- yet, she is often subverting it and its ingrained misogyny, homophobia and ageism.

There's a reason the current crop of pop princesses (Katy Perry, Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus and even queen Beyoncé) all have made a point to pay respects: Madonna helped create the model of sustaining relevancy in a pop music career for over four decades. According to TiVO, Madonna's performance was the most-watched part of the entire Grammy night, and the day following the Grammys, three songs from her new album Rebel Heart hit the top three slots of the iTunes music chart, and her single "Living For Love" reemerged into the Top 40 after previously reaching the top in December.

She -- more than 30 years after her debut single in 1982 -- remains the definition of relevant. Madonna opened her Grammy performance with a quote that highlights her career-long message: Be who you are, "someone unique and rare and fearless." And part of her enduring appeal is people like witnessing someone fearlessly (and rebelliously) doing something outside the standards of conventions and cultural expectations. Even if some are keen on slagging it off in the press and on social media. After all, those that dare go against convention are often the most maligned and criticized.

Annie Lennox and Madonna have different paths. BOTH of these remarkable, self-empowered ladies' paths are valid. And we can honor and respect the choices each of the these women have made for themselves. Some will find it silly that one "doesn't act her age," but others will wonder why the other "acts so old" when people live past 100 these days. Both women have chosen what works for them. And let us celebrate them both for giving us all options.

With the premiere of Fifty Shades the movie widely anticipated this Valentine's Day, I think it's important to look at what heterosexual men can learn about what women are seeking in the fantasy that is Christian Grey. I would say that for 99% of my clients and those of my colleagues, their male heterosexual partnered/married clients did not read Fifty Shades of Grey. Even when their wives and girlfriends became more turned on and initiated more frequently they didn't read the book. While I could surmise that one of the main reasons for avoiding the book may have been that it wasn't going to turn them on, I would add that perhaps they didn't think a fantasy story of a billionaire sweeping a virginal young woman off her feet had much to teach them about sex. However, I feel it's time men perk up and pay attention this Valentine's day to what more than 100 million readers (mostly women I'm assuming) the world over have discovered about their sexuality and what they erotically respond to in a lover.

I will start off by saying that the character of Christian Grey is one who has been traumatized early on, and has a lot to learn about healthy attachment and boundaries. I also want to reiterate that he is a fantasy character and I think women were responding to the more erotic elements of his demeanor. Lastly, this book was not meant as a how-to guide for BDSM.

With that caveat out there here are 6 things women want men to learn from Christian Grey.

1. He's extremely attentive to her moods and needs. After the first two years of most romantic relationships, couples can take one another for granted and decrease the amount of attention to what they're talking about. One of the most common complaints I hear about from women in my private therapy practice is: "He's constantly checking his phone, he'll tell me he can listen to me and check his email, Instagram, Facebook but I know he's just half-listening to me. It makes me feel like he really doesn't know what's going on with me emotionally". Christian picks up in an change in Anastasia's moods and wants to know why she's feeling a certain way. Women want to feel their inner thoughts and emotions are meaningful to their partner.

2. He's fiercely and demonstratively monogamous. While some men may have a roving eye which causes them to unconsciously and/or consciously check out other women while they're out with their girlfriend or wife, Christian only has eyes for Ana. She describes her awareness of women flirting, smiling, and coming on to Christian when they go out in public but he is polite but clear that his attentions and intentions are focused entirely on Ana.

3. He is thoughtful about his gifts. While some men might ignore this aspect of his because Christian is so unbelievably rich that his gifts include a Blackberry, a laptop and a car, I noted more that his first gift was a first edition of Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Ubervilles. Ana was an English major and wrote her final paper on Hardy's work. Christian was attentive to what she was intellectually into and bought her what he knew she would appreciate. So on Valentine's Day men might listen and think about what their partners would love based on their interests not just on the price. A gift that is DIY and shows a lot of thought and planning goes a longer way than the present bought the night before at a neighborhood store.

4. He's very clear that he's attracted to her and is open about what it is exactly he finds erotic. While many men might just blurt out: "You're hot" or something that's less articulate, Christian lets her know that he loves when she bites her lip, that her sarcastic nature turns him on, etc. He tells her the specific parts of her body or mannerisms that are turn-ons for him which brings more awareness to Ana's own sexual discovery. For most couples who have been together for over a year or two they tend to forget to tell each other when they're erotically turned on by their partner and give one another the juicy details. In the 2009 NY Times article titled What Do Women Want,the sex researcher Marta Meana described women's "wish to be the object of erotic admiration and sexual need" in the article. My clients express that even though they know their partner loves them, their libido increases when they hear they are lusted after by their partner. As part of an exercise in session, I'll ask clients to think about moments in the day when they found themselves erotically attracted to their mate and then share that moment with them.

5. He is disciplined about achieving his goals. As in Twilight the book upon which Fifty Shades was based has a hero who is from a fantastically rich family, Christian is self-made and is very disciplined in following up on his goals (whether it's making business deals, funding charities, or keeping fit physically). Power is not always about how much money you have but about your work ethic and your strength to follow through. It shows focus, commitment and drive even in the face of adversity which can be very sexy. For example, a man who decides to work out more frequently and lose weight to lower his blood pressure and become more toned in the new year will be a lot more appealing to his partner if he keeps to his schedule and achieves his goal.

6. He is willing to be vulnerable. Although Christian is into being a Dom in his erotic life, he is discovering his emotional romantic life with Ana and feels open to let her know about his past. Following up on those 36 questions discussed a few weeks back in the New York Times, Christian eventually lets Ana know that he's afraid of integrating love into a sexual relationship because he was traumatized as a child. He lets her know that he's afraid of failing in a love relationship because he's never been in love before. He tells her how he was first initiated into the world of BDSM and with whom. What draws Ana to him is his vulnerability and her hope that she can teach him about love as much as he has opened up a new world of sexuality to her.

Jean Paul-Sartre, the twentieth-century philosopher and father of existentialism once infamously wrote,

"Hell is other people."

And though wildly quoted, few seem to acknowledge that Sartre never qualified this statement by claiming that solitude was any sort of heavenly alternative.

And it in this ambiguity and subjectivity on what defines heaven or hell that serves as a proper introduction to the British cult hit, and criminally underappreciated series Peep Show. Written by Jesse Armstrong and Sam Bain (In the Loop), the series first aired on BBC America in 2003, a few months following the finale of another British series you may have heard of, The Office. However, while the Ricky Gervais series, though overlooked itself early during its run eventually found a large audience and critical-acclaim, Peep Show has been unable to do the same at home or here in America. But what gives? Gervais himself believes the series is overlooked and underappreciated, stating 'It is the best British comedy on television today."

The series revolves around the alternatingly humorous yet utterly tragic lives of odd-couple roommates Mark and Jeremy (played by British comedians David Mitchell and Robert Webb,) two 20-something roommates living together in South London.

Mark, the relative protagonist of the series, is a cynical and pessimistic curmudgeon with a lightly unhealthy interest in World War II who works as a credit manager at JBL Credit. Socially inept veering into cringe inducing awkward, he is the straight-laced and quote unquote intelligent roommate who is usually brought down by his own paralyzing miscues and decisions. Jeremy, on the other hand, is an aspiring musician lacking any discernable talent, is the laid-back slacker who thinks that he and pal Super Hans are bound for musical fame. A pothead with a penchant for drug-induced mischief and an amoral streak, his life revolves more around trying to sleep with women then any sort of meaningful fulfillment.

Though based on a deceivingly simple premise, what makes the show so unique is that it's shot via a first-person perspective. This point-of-view gives viewers a window into the world as precisely as the characters see it, and allows the use of voice-overs to express the inner monologues of the protagonists and lends the series a novel-like quality. As one of writers of the series himself puts it, "That's what makes the show work. People are able to, 'Oh, I'm not the only one who has unmentionable thoughts."

The show's unique camera point-of-view not only differentiates it from every other sitcom in Britain or America -- it truly allows the viewers into the darkest, most awkward corners of the protagonist's minds. Yet it is the background of the series through which we really see these characters personalities. Be it either mundane everyday situations in the office, to the exaggerated and eccentric scenarios, the series is always grounded, given that anywhere an episode leads to is always found in a logical chain of events. Or rather, a series of unfortunate events that allows for a natural escalation of situations that ridiculous, yet anchored to reality.

This is a show where a simple trip to the grocery for Mark on a Friday night, to avoid having to stand in line no less, ends with him tucking in a college-aged Goth while he painfully avoids having to listen to the moans of Jeremy and and his neighbor, who happens to be having sex while her ex-husband watches. Or where a simple attempt by Jeremy to throw a low-key bachelor party leads to him being forced to eat the piece of a semi-cooked animal that. Actually, better you find the rest out. I can only imagine what the explanation would seem without context. And though the characters are events range from eccentric to mundane, their observations always seem to aptly observe some of the sad, yet accepted truths of life. A few pieces of life advice from the series:

On Relationships
"I'm in a relationship with someone I really like. Something is obviously going to have to go wrong. I wonder what it's going to be. Its almost definitely something I do, I need to watch myself like a hawk."

On Morality:
"It's almost like a moral decision, but not really because no one will find out."

On Life:
"I suppose doing things you hate is just the price you pay to avoid loneliness."

Though it's a bit pretentious to try to rope in a 20th century philosopher into an essay on the merits of a television show, the nature of the humor in the series lends itself to both the immature and the profound. Peep Show uses its two main characters as embodiments of contradicting philosophies and then sets the pair off to stumble into whatever series of unfortunate events and self-inflicted hell they can conjure. And even as most British comedies find themselves delving into the darker vanities of human nature for laugher, this series fully commits to the most cynical perspective of human beings and an even more grim and pessimistic outlook on protagonists largely fruitless quest for love, fulfillment, happiness, success, or really, anything. Peep Show is a comedy for our modern age, reflecting all our egotism, petty vanities, unstated truths, and vulnerability, all portrayed better, and more honestly, than anything else on television today.

Given the show's decade-plus run is coming to an end later this year, and given the borderline offensive mediocrity that makes up most of television these days anyway, it's worth a watch. You can find all eight seasons of the show streaming on Netflix and Hulu.

Fresh Off the Boat, the landmark show that has finally put Asian Americans on network television, arrived into the blogosphere with fanfare -- as if it were the coming of a Messiah. And just about everybody in Asian America has been texting and tweeting, commenting and rejoicing.

It is indeed a watershed event. Asian Americans -- especially Asian American males -- are conspicuously absent from popular culture, except as the butt of racist jokes. Not since Margaret Cho's much-ballyhooed, and much-boo-hooed, television show two decades ago (one lost to popular memory because it basically fizzled) has there arisen, like the phoenix, a vehicle that allows Asian American characters to shine -- shine not simply as freak sideshow acts but, also, as central figures in the Barnum & Bailey Circus that is the American mainstream.

I totally get the buzz. I recognize some of the incredible potential of the show. In my freshman year of college, I was routinely called "Long Duk Dong" by the white guys on my dorm floor. They thought it was funny, especially when they were liquored up. This got old fast.

Eddie Huang's show, which features a hip-hop-loving misfit who is nobody's patsy is a welcome backfire against the towering inferno which is mainstream America's racialism.

For the most part, Eddie Huang's show has been hailed by Asian American boosters as a smashing success. White guys who wear track suits stand behind it. Asian guys who aspire to a certain kind of edginess dig its groovy hip hop stylings and in-your-face-stick-it-to-the-man street vernacular.

But I actually found it a depressing show.

Why? Because the first two episodes of the show recalled so many aspects of my childhood -- things that I would rather forget, things that my parents did to me that I would rather leave buried in the past. Let me list some of the things that almost every Asian American probably saw when the show's mirror was held up to their face:

Yes, I had a crazy overbearing mother.

Yes, my mom expected me to get straight A's.

Yes, I did engage in acts of forgery on my report card to make sure she didn't beat me senseless when I didn't get straight A's.

Yes, I grew up in a wealthy neighborhood filled with white people with whom I never fit in.

Yes, I came from a merchant class family that lived high on the hog when the going was good, and worried ceaselessly when the money wasn't coming in.

Yes, I was embarrassed by my mom's packed lunches (so much so that one semester I tossed my lovingly packed lunches in the trash can and volunteered to work in the school cafeteria so I could get that holy grail -- a real school lunch with all the real fake stuff that real Americans enjoy).

I see all the ways the television show tries to mirror my experience, and I can certainly enjoy it. But call me an ingrate: I already know this stuff. I'd actually rather forget this stuff. I often tell these stories when I'm out with friends. It's light talk at a cocktail party and the telling of it -- the telling of it by me -- works to suggest exactly how far I've come.

But seeing it on television actually makes me depressed. And it makes me depressed in a special way. I wonder if this special way -- this special depression -- has something to do with the very medium of television, as opposed to books or blogs... because, you see, I've read Eddie Huang's blogs and his memoir and, even though they tread through the same material, those don't depress me at all. In fact, they're a riot-and-a-half and I can't wait until Eddie Huang puts out another book.

But it makes me wonder. It makes me wonder over two questions about the work of television -- the work that Fresh Off the Boat's producers must do if the show is going to work. The first one is simple: Are we putting out these stories to affirm ourselves, Asian Americans, who already know these stories all-too-well and who are, ourselves, masters at telling this story? Or are we telling these stories for other people?

The second question is actually more important: If television is an escapist form of entertainment, why are we telling stories that don't allow us to escape the reality that is always with us -- the reality that holds us in the box of its grip -- and hems us in? Why are we telling stories we already know all too well but would rather escape? These are the questions that we will have to answer if we want to continue producing shows for a popular market long after Fresh Off the Boat is off the air.

This story was written by Robert Johnson and originally appeared on Pixable.

Driving through Detroit, abandoned commercial buildings of all types rise up from the mass of vacant homes to catch the eye. After several days, this modern structure had drawn my attention enough that I stopped to take a closer look. Originally designed to house the Southwest Detroit Hospital, which was closed in 1993, it was sold to Detroit businessman Harley K. Brown who re-opened the building as United Community Hospital and subsequently drove it into the ground to advance his boxing promotion career. It was sitting vacant for nine years when I arrived in mid-January 2015 for our feature series Inside Detroit.

*Author's note: We've redacted any sensitive information in the photos of medical files.

This post is a part of Pixable's feature series Inside Detroit.

Click here to continue reading the story and to see all of the photos.

My 10-year-old son, who is intrigued by all things cinematic, recently asked me what movies I enjoyed watching when I was younger. A flood of awesome (mostly) '80s flicks immediately sprang to mind. I dug through my collection of DVDs and pulled out six of my childhood favorites. Each one taught me something about life, love and other totally random things.

1. E.T. taught me about friends, foreshadowing and feigning sickness.

After watching this sweet Spielberg movie, children everywhere snooped around their backyard shed in hopes of finding their very own extra-terrestrial trick-or-treating pal. And why wouldn't they? E.T. was adorable! Honestly, this film was packed with a number of valuable learning tools:

Number one: always help out friends in need, even the short, funny-looking ones.

Number two: bicycle baskets are not just for girls.

Number three: if you want to convince your mom that you're too sick to go to school, hold a thermometer beneath a hot desk lamp to feign a high fever.

2. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom taught me that boys dig all things gross.

I think it's entirely possible that this is the film that inspired the 80's phrase, "Grody to the max."

There's a scene where a character named Willie has dozens of centipedes, roaches and other nasty bugs crawling up her arms, down her shirt, through her hair, and around her neck. It was all I could do to hold down my lunch. My brother, on the other hand, couldn't stop chuckling.

In the sacrificial ceremony scene, a bad guy holds up a pulsating heart as blood drips down his arm. Every boy in the theatre cheered with glee while I buried my face in my dad's armpit.

3. A League of Their Own made me appreciate not only baseball but also those who can spit, pee and dance with gusto.

This wholesome movie revolves around baseball games and forging friendships. I related to the competitive spirit, the authentic camaraderie, and the push-and-pull that make up complicated family dynamics. But mostly I adored those silly scenes where Tom Hank's character has a "spit-down" with Geena Davis's character, asserts that there's no crying in baseball, and pees for a solid minute in the locker room.

An awesome bonus to this fun family flick: the bar scene where Eddie Mekka, the guy who plays Carmine Ragusa in Laverne & Shirley, dances with Madonna. I could watch that on replay all day long.

4. Superman II demonstrated the importance of setting the right mood.

When I first saw this film, I was inspired to save the world, learn to fly, and get fitted for colored tights. But when I watched it as an adult, I gleaned something new from one of the scenes. Do you remember the part where Superman turns human, then has a celebratory roll in the sack with Lois Lane? It was so weird. Perhaps it wouldn't be so weird if they weren't sleeping naked in a pod bed, cuddling in a comforter made of tin foil. But they are, so it is.

5. Seems Like Old Times taught me how to unknowingly curse.

I dug this movie. Perhaps it's because the main character, played by Chevy Chase, was a writer. Or perhaps it's because chicken pepperoni sounded mighty scrumptious. Or perhaps I was mesmerized by the fact that Goldie Hawn's character owned a herd of dogs. I don't know. What I do know, however, is that this particular film introduced me to the word "sh--." And Chevy used it with such flair that despite not understanding its meaning, the context in which it was used tickled my funny bone so much that I decided to act out the hysterical scene for my parents. They were not as amused.

6. Christmas Vacation taught me to embrace my crazy family.

This film beautifully demonstrates that every family is dysfunctional in some way. But we love them anyway. And it's all good.

There's a scene in which a frazzled Clark, fed up with his tightwad boss, hits a breaking point and proceeds to swig a mug full of eggnog and then spew an endless line of obscenities without taking a breath. We've all teetered on that edge at some point in our lives, which is why the scene resonates with such hilarity.

When your preschooler, however, performs his own public tirade while in line at the post office, you've got to dig down deep to find the humor. Lucky for him, I've got a soft spot for cute kids and short extraterrestrials.

Read Christy Heitger-Ewing's award-winning book "Cabin Glory: Amusing Tales of Time Spent at the Family Retreat" (www.cabinglory.com). Visit her author website at http://christyheitger-ewing.com/.

Last week, I watched the critically acclaimed film Selma, which depicts the events surrounding the 1965 march for voting rights from Selma to Montgomery. This movie comes at an especially opportune time due to issues surrounding police brutality at the forefront of our national consciousness, as documented by the protest call #BlackLivesMatter. In many ways, the film shows how little progress the United States has made in truly achieving "liberty and justice for all."

As an immigrant, the inequalities Martin Luther King, Jr. and his contemporaries struggled against are all too familiar. As I watched the film, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between the second-class status of African Americans in 1965 and undocumented immigrants in this country today. This is not to say that our experiences or struggles are the same, but that this nation has a long history of fear and rejection of those deemed "outsiders" for their race, class, legal status, gender, or sexual orientation.

There is a connection between Blacks in 1965 and undocumented immigrants in 2015. As I watched Oprah Winfrey's character lower her head in shame after being turned away from registering to vote, I saw my mother's teary-eyed face on the day she was rejected from renewing her driver's license due to her legal status. As the film dramatized the murder of Jimmy Lee Jackson, I pictured the death of 15-year-old Sergio Hernandez at the hands of a border patrol agent, who claimed the boy was throwing rocks across the border. While the film showed the Black community listening intently as President Johnson announced the Voting Rights Act, with hope beaming and tears forming in their eyes, I was taken back to the day President Obama announced Deferred Action for Parental Accountability (DAPA). Like the many African Americans gathered together to hear the news that would determine their right to self-determination, my family and fellow churchgoers gathered together to hear the long awaited news of relief and protection for immigrant families. In both scenarios, the years and years of waiting were finally over.

Something that is rarely acknowledged is the fact that the legacy of immigration in America is bound up with the horrific legacy of the transatlantic slave trade. Beginning with the forced migration of African slaves to the New World, African Americans and immigrant communities have often been the victims of nativism and the fear of socio-cultural differences. Foreigners, immigrants, and native-born minorities purportedly threaten the "American" way of life and are marked as targets for deportation, detention, and other forms of oppression and subjugation.

Although African labor built much of the economy of the United States, slaves, like today's undocumented immigrants, had no way to gain citizenship or becomes full-fledged members of American society. Even after emancipation, as illustrated in the film Selma, unable to vote, shacked by "separate but equal" laws, and discriminated against due to the color of their skin, African Americans were prohibited from receiving the full rights and benefits of inclusion into the citizenry. On the contrary, African Americans suffered, and continue to suffer, from systemic violence and dehumanization in the country that was built on the backs of their chained ancestors. In the same way that the world economy was largely built on slave labor, the modern American economy has become increasingly dependent on immigrant labor.

Jim Crow depended on the maintenance of social boundaries and distinctions between "us" and "them," inclusion and exclusion, membership and difference -- the same ideologies that are used today to justify anti-immigrant sentiment and laws. Certain races, ethnicities, and national origins are characterized as threatening, as populations that need to be guarded against, as the polar opposite of what is deemed to be the ideal (read: white) American. The same system that MLK, Jr. describes as operating on "systematic intimidation and fear" marginalizes undocumented immigrants and contributes to an institutional and public mindset that facilitates the human rights abuses perpetrated by Border Patrol and other U.S. officials against migrants crossing the border and those who have already put down roots in the United States.

In his sermon following the murder of Jimmy Lee Jackson, Dr. King denounces the racist American political and economic system that contributes to Black men and women being "murdered, brutalized, and ripped from this earth." Nativist immigration policies and the increasing militarization of the U.S.-Mexico border contributes to hundreds of deaths yearly, the sexual harassment, assault and rape of up to 80 percent of women during the border-crossing journey, racial, ethnic/nationality and religious profiling, and the weakening of constitutional rights, particularly due process rights, and labor protections for noncitizens. Every day, migrants are dying and disappearing in the deserts and borderlands of the United States. Like Martin Luther King Jr. says in Selma, people are dying and it cannot wait.

In Ava Duvernay's movie, Dr. King asks:

Who murdered Jimmy Lee Jackson? We know a state trooper pulled the trigger, but how many fingers were on that trigger? Who murdered Jimmy Lee Jackson? Every white lawman who abuses the law to terrorize. Every white politician who feeds on prejudice and hatred. Every white preacher who preaches the Bible and stays silent before his white congregation.

Today, we must ask, who murdered the 2,238 migrants who perished in the borderlands between 1990 and 2012? The real culprit is an immigration policy that feeds on on racialized fears of immigrant criminality and on strict social boundaries that distinguish between "us" and "them," and between "citizens" and "aliens," a political strategy that invests millions in erecting a wall and installing surveillance technology instead of investing in the potentiality of human beings, a legal system that serves to perpetuate injustice by institutionalizing it.

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