From Havana to Oz
In just a few days, I saw three performances that couldn’t have been more different on the surface, but each one found a way to hit something deep. Together they reminded me what it means to feel out of place, find your rhythm, and maybe even turn what sets you apart into what sets you ahead.
First up was Buena Vista Social Club on Broadway. It knocked my socks off. The whole thing felt like stepping into a portal. One minute I’m in Midtown, the next I’m in a smoky jazz club in Havana. The set was perfect for the show, rich colors, cozy lighting, musicians lounging like they’d been jamming together forever. The crowd was fully in it. The actor playing Omara Portuondo had this calm magnetism that pulled every eye in the room. And the guy playing Ibrahim Ferrer starts off bussing tables, barely noticed, then grabs the mic and becomes the soul of the whole show. The energy shifted. People started clapping mid-song. It didn’t feel like Broadway. It felt like we had stumbled into a Havana block party with a killer band and a better sound system. I was grinning in amazement.
Then came Licorice Pizza, a film that lingered with me. It’s about a teenage hustler named Gary and a gorgeous young Jewish woman named Alana who’s charming, a little lost, and pretending she’s got it all figured out. Watching her reminded me of my own messy start in agency life, somewhere between intern and junior staff, trying to find my footing and wondering if I really belonged. Licorice Pizza captures that awkward charm of being new to something and somehow making it work, even when nothing goes exactly as planned.
The third act of the weekend was Wicked, and it hit me differently this time. That moment when Elphaba meets the Wizard and starts to see her greenness, the thing people made fun of, might actually be her power. That landed in a big way. I’m the only wheelchair user on my team, and for a while that voice in my head kept asking, “Do I actually belong here?” But then I watched a Porter Novelli video featuring Lauren Camdzic, a capable senior account executive who crushed it in a power chair and flipped the script. I stopped seeing my difference as a limit and started seeing it as my edge.
With two weeks left at 400 Broome Street, I’m already feeling that brief NYU nostalgia for one last summer. It’s that mix of excitement and bittersweet knowing a chapter is closing, but the next one is just around the corner. This summer felt like my proper graduation since the end of senior year was a bit rocky, thanks to a minor ChatGPT incident and my parents missing my graduation celebration. Honestly, it was probably harder on them than me, but hey, maybe this internship is the real party. Instead of loud crowds and screaming at Yankee Stadium, I got a chill office vibe with good drinks and snacks that actually don’t come from a hot dog stand. A welcome to adult life graduation. A coming of age summer with better drinks and a snack selection that makes working late a little sweeter.
Next up might be a slower chapter, at least for a little while. There’s a chance I’ll be back in the Berkshires for a month or two, catching my breath with Roxy and figuring out what’s next. That means finding new aides on the Facebook group chat Gypsy Housing, keeping an eye out for apartment rentals in NYC, and diving back into networking within health PR. I’m excited to reconnect with the voices I spoke with before and keep building connections at Porter Novelli, but this time with a fresh perspective and two months of agency experience under my belt.
A chapter where me, Roxy, and my killer team of helpers, my very own Formula One pit crew fixing the wheels, moving quickly, making sure I’m on time and my head in the game, will be back in the city ready to crush it wherever my skills land me next.
