Host: Suzanne Rust
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Suzanne: [00:14] This is The Moth Radio Hour. I'm your host, Suzanne Rust.
Moth StorySLAMs are magical. Each evening has a theme, like, Lost, Busted or Love Hurts. Brave people from all across the country show up with a five-minute story that relates to the theme, and drop their names in a hat for the chance to step on the stage and share it. No notes.
This week's hour, which features stories from these slams, explores how we reflect on our worlds at different ages and stages of our lives. From childhood and teens to adulthood and later life.
From personal experience and non-scientific observation, I think it's pretty safe to say that middle school confidence levels are not at an all-time high. So, the last thing most kids want is to be the center of attention. Our first storyteller found herself in that position and lived to tell the tale.
[cheers and applause]
Anne McNamee-Keels told this at a ChicagoSLAM, where we partner with Public Radio Station WBEZ. Here's Anne, live at The Moth.
Anne: [00:01:24] My story takes place in 1998, at a school on the South Side of Chicago. No joke. [audience laughter] But this was a Catholic school on the South Side of Chicago, and I was the student. It's April of 1998, Tuesday morning. I am in my polo shirt and my ugly uniform skirt, with a very heavy backpack full of math, science and religion textbooks, with my head down, getting onto that blacktop, behind the church, behind the school, before the first bell, just quietly slinking in as I normally do before the first bell. To say, I was not the cool girl in eighth grade is an understatement. So, I'll tell you what I was at this school.
I was the kid who had shown up, transferred to the school in fourth grade, which doesn’t sound like a big deal, but at a K-through-8 Catholic school, it’s like I had shown up to the birthday party after the candles had been blown out, like songs had been sung, alliances had been formed and there I was. [audience laughter] Also, no one had told me when I got to the school, I didn’t sign up, I was sent there, [audience laughter] that the main form of social capital was the sports you could play and the sports teams you were on. I was the kind of kid who all, but broke out in hives if I was a couple feet from a volleyball. I'm like the opposite of athletic. So, I was on zero sports teams.
I was a music, theater, art nerd at a school with no music, theater or art. [audience laughter] So, I became the kid who, at lunchtime, could be found reading a Babysitters Club book over her peanut butter and jelly instead of talking with my classmates. And my goal was to like, it’s April of eighth grade, right, so I’m putting my head down, get through. That’s the goal. So, I literally have my head down, getting onto that blacktop. But something weird is going on. I hear weird murmuring when I get there. I look up, and it seems like all the girls in my grade are looking at me. They are talking, I think about me. They are pointing at me.
Oh, my gosh. So, I look down, like, do I have a stain on my uniform shirt? Did I spill something? I don’t think so. And I’m like, “Oh, God, did someone tell the entire grade who I have a crush on again?” But that doesn’t seem to be it. And then, Emma walks up to me. Now, Emma’s like the closest that I have to a good friend in my grade. We’re friends sometimes, and then not at other times. But today, she seems very excited. She says, “Oh, my gosh, have you seen the May issue of Teen magazine?”
Now, for the young people, I just need to do a little quick background. [audience laughter] In the late 1990s, Teen magazine and others of its ilk, Seventeen, YM, they were our Instagram, our Facebook, our Pinterest, our TikTok. [audience laughter] They were how we knew how to dress, what makeup to do and how to do our hair. They were how we knew that we were not thin enough and were not yet pretty enough, but we could be, [audience laughter] if we followed. Also, there was always some weird story about a girl in white pants getting her period in front of her crush. [audience laughter] I’m not clear what that was, but they were our bible.
And so, Emma says, “Did you see the May issue?” And I say, “It’s April.” And she says, “Oh, everyone in the grade has a subscription. We get it a week early,” which is another check against me. a; And so, she hands me the Teen magazine May issue, and she opens to page 14. And on page 14, y’all, is me. [audience laughter] There is a picture, my school picture, frizzy hair, blotchy skin, all of it.
And then, I remember months prior, when I had been going through the December issue for the third time and I’d seen the tiny fine print, because I’m a big nerd. And it said that they were looking for girls who wanted makeovers. [audience laughter] I sent in my school picture [audience laughter] along with a letter detailing how my frizzy hair is a problem, how I can’t find makeup, because I’m a redhead, how my eyes are too small and my face is too blotchy and please help. So, did they give me a makeover, just to be clear? They didn’t give me a makeover. [audience laughter] They didn’t send me makeup samples. They didn’t even tell me they were using my picture. They just put my picture there along with a makeup artist telling me all the things to fix all my problems. [audience laughter]
So, of course, I'm horrified, right? Like, “Oh, my gosh, this is so embarrassing.” But I look up, and all these girls, they do not look like they're making fun of me. They look impressed, maybe even jealous. [audience laughter] Remember, this is before social media. I am in a magazine. Leonardo DiCaprio is on the front along with Jennifer Love Hewitt. [audience laughter]
[cheers and applause]
And Titanic has just come out. Everyone is looking at this magazine, and there I am. So, the girls are freaking out. All the girls in my grade, and they're coming around me, and I don't know what to do with this attention. We get in school and somebody shows a teacher and it spreads like wildfire. [audience laughter] Teachers from all over the school are coming in to see the magazine that I am in, because they have me in previous years.
Later in the day, I get a call over the PA. “Ms. Harris, will you send Anne McNamee to the principal's office?” I never do anything wrong, but of course, I'm terrified, because what if I accidentally did something wrong? [audience laughter] So, I go to the principal's office. I hate this. But I get there, and my principal, who I can only describe as looking like Mr. Potato Head, [audience laughter] like very round face, mustache, glasses, like Mr. Potato Head. He is sitting in front of this desk with all these important papers. And on top of all those papers is Teen magazine with my picture. [audience laughter] And he says, “This is very impressive.” And I think, is it? [audience laughter]
Later, there’s an announcement over the PA. And it just keeps going from here. I get home, my mom has already heard, she’s bought every copy she could find in the city. [audience laughter] My grandma, my aunt, a second cousin, my mom's second cousin gets a call from her sister saying, “Buy Teen magazine. We have a relative in it.” [audience laughter] It’s a really big deal. I go to my dance class, they’ve already had the picture up, framed behind the main desk. It’s really exciting for a while. And then, the excitement, it’s there, but it starts to fade and eventually everybody forgets, to be honest with you. The frame comes down, some other girl got in the newspaper for something, and now she goes up and everything just gets quiet.
I think I thought it was going to be like the movies or something. I thought it would be like a 1990s movie, that my hair would get straightened and I would buy the makeup, which I did, and put it all on my face and I would be different. But the reality was I just did exactly what I was planning to do. I kept my head down, I got through eighth grade, I got to high school and things got a little better.
Recently, I was going through boxes in my basement, and I went through a box that was all the stuff from my childhood bedroom, books, journals. And in it, I found the 1998 May issue of Teen magazine. And there I was on page 14, just a normal looking 13-year-old girl.
I wish I could talk to her. I wish I could tell her that her hair would stay curly, but I would find products to fix it, you know? [audience laughter] I wish I could tell her she would eventually figure out the makeup thing. There was this thing called contouring coming up and it was going to be a big deal and a real game changer. [audience laughter] Mostly, I wish I could tell her that sports really weren’t going to matter. No one’s going to make her play dodgeball after she was 15. And that eventually she would get to live where she wanted to live, do the things she wanted to do and find her people. And eventually, she would feel like lifting her head up. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Suzanne: [00:08:57] That was Anne McNamee-Keels, an educator and a Moth GrandSLAM winner. She is also the host and producer of Lapsed, a podcast about growing up Catholic. Anne lives in Oak Park, Illinois, with her family.
Anne told me that the most positive thing that came from her experience was realizing how many people she actually had in her corner. She didn’t receive any of the blowback she feared. Instead, everyone in her life was very supportive, including the intimidating cool girls at her school. She says that it took her years to realize that they were all likely just as insecure and confused as she was at that time in life. To see photos of Anne’s 15 minutes of fame, go to themoth.org.
Those first jobs that we take as teens often allow us to reinvent ourselves and make new personal discoveries and connections. Our next story, set at a famous fast-food franchise, pits two young employees against each other. Matthew Dicks told this story at a BostonSLAM, where we partnered with Public Radio Station WBUR.
[cheers and applause]
Here's Matthew.
Matthew: [00:10:13] I'm sitting in the break room of a McDonald's restaurant in Milford, Massachusetts. I'm eating an Egg McMuffin, and I am not happy. It is the spring of 1987. I'm 16 years old, and it's not the Egg McMuffin, that's causing me to be unhappy, because an Egg McMuffin is the most guaranteed source of joy in my entire day. [audience laughter] But not on this day. I'm upset, because I'm about to meet my mortal enemy for the first time, and I know it's not going to go well.
I've been working at this restaurant for two months now. I actually live three towns away in Blackstone, Massachusetts, but I found out that this place pays $4 and 65 cents an hour, and that's 20 cents more than the White Hen Pantry, five minutes from my house. I figured even though it's a 30-minute drive, the 20 cents will absolutely make up for the time and the gas, which it does not. [audience laughter] But it changes my life in a really significant way, because when I arrive here, I discover the joy of a clean slate.
I'm growing up in a tiny town. 82 kids are in my class. So, the same 82 kids I knew in kindergarten, and they remember everything. And so, when you want to be something different, or you decide you could be something better, no one lets you, because they remember everything. They still talk about the time in sixth grade when I exposed myself to class, [audience laughter] because my gym shorts were a little too short and my underwear was a little too big and it was a little too much manspreading. They talk about it to this day. [audience laughter]
They remember the braces, and the buck teeth, and the bad haircuts, and the free and reduced lunches, and all of that has prevented me from becoming something that I think I could be, and being trapped in what they think I should be. But I've arrived in this new town, nobody knows me. And on the first day of work, Erin Duran comes and asks me if I have a girlfriend, in the way she’s hoping, I say no. That’s never happened to me before. So, this is something. [audience laughter] And it turns out that, because they don’t know me, I can be the thing I think I can be. Suddenly, I have more friends than I’ve ever had in my life. And I’m good at my job, shockingly good.
In 1980s, the job at the McDonald’s that is the hardest is running the bin. I have been a public-school teacher for 24 years, and I can tell you that I have not had a day in my classroom as taxing as a day running the bin at McDonald’s during rush hour in 1987. [audience laughter] It is coordinating a kitchen full of 16-year-olds and 60-year-olds, and convincing them all to do work for you at the same time, [audience laughter] and watching a drive-through screen, and listening to cash registers, and figuring out how much food needs to be here at any moment without causing waste and making sure of profit. It’s really hard. And for some reason I can hold all this information right here, and I’m good at it and people respect me for it.
But as soon as I got good at it, all I heard was one word, Benji. “You’re great, but Benji’s better. Benji’s the best bin person in this restaurant. Actually, he’s the best person in this restaurant. [audience laughter] He is fantastic, and everyone loves him and everyone respects him. And I hate Benji. [audience laughter] All they do is tell me how great he is And with every single word they say, I hate him more. And then, I discover they’re telling him about me. They’re saying how this guy came in and he might be better than you. [audience laughter] They’re spreading gossip about me to him. And so, we have never met each other, but we hate each other. [audience laughter] And so, this day, we’re coming together for the first time. Our shifts are crossing, and I’m going to meet him.
And so, I go out into the dining room at the end of my break just to see him, because he’s already working. And I see him. There’s nothing to this guy, like, he’s not that good looking, he’s not an athlete. He’s got the body of a bass player in a failing high school rock band. [audience laughter] He is nothing. But I watch, and a couple minutes later, I realize I’m wrong, because he’s funny, effortlessly funny. He’s endearing to everyone. He makes the older customers who are waiting for Big Macs actually happy to be waiting for their Big Mac. And the managers love him. He’s good at the bin, like he is really good at calling bin. I hate him so much. [audience laughter]
And because he’s doing my job, I have to run drive-thru today, which is the second hardest job in the restaurant. 80% of the orders go through the window, so 80% of the food will pass through my hands. But that means I need to work with the bin guy the whole time to coordinate and negotiate and make sure everything runs, which means I have to work with Benji.
And so, for the first hour, we don’t talk to each other unless it’s about work. We clearly hate each other. We’re not hiding it in any way whatsoever, but unless it has to do with work, I don’t say a word. And then, after an hour, it gets awkward and I start to think maybe he thinks I’m afraid to say something to him. So, I’m like, “No, I’m going to do something here.” And so, I go up to him and I say, “Why are you coming in at 10:30 on a Saturday? What’s 10:30?” And he says, “I watch Saturday morning cartoons,” which in 1986 is a thing. All the new cartoons, The Smurfs and The Snorks and Super Friends, they’re all out in the morning, and we eat sugar disguised as cereal and we watch these things. [audience laughter]
And he says, “The Gummi Bears start at 9:30 and they end at 10:00, and then I come to work.” And he says it without irony or embarrassment. I can’t believe it. [audience laughter] And so, I walk over to the drive-thru. I drop a bag off. When I come back to the bin, I say, “Listen to me. Dashing and daring, courageous and caring, faithful and friendly with stories to share,” and I take some food and I walk back to the drive-thru.
And as I come back over, he is singing before I get to the bin, he says, All through the forest they sing out in chorus, [audience laughter] marching along as their songs fill the air. [audience laughter] And standing next to the bin with Benji, we sing together, Gummi Bears [audience laughter] bouncing here and there and everywhere, high adventure that’s beyond compare, they are the Gummi Bears. [audience laughter] There’s a second verse, a bridge and another chorus. I will not share them with you, but we sing them that day, [audience laughter] because I watch the Gummi Bears too. And to this day, I can sing that song.
And that’s it, a single theme song to a cartoon melts all the ice between us. And 37 years later, he is still my best friend. [audience aww] It is the most significant relationship in my life, with the exception of my marriage. When I get thrown out of my house when I’m 17, Benji takes me in and lets me live in his college apartment. When I’m 21 and I need a credit card and can’t get one, he gives me his extra card and says, “Just use it and pay me when you can.” He saves my life again and again and again. And this day, we live in Connecticut, two miles from each other.
When I think back on that day that I stood at that bin and sang a cartoon song to him, I’m reminded how little it takes to reach out to someone and just open the crack of a window. You just get the window open, and then it becomes a door and it becomes a lifetime. I stood at a bin in a McDonald’s in Milford, Massachusetts, and sang a cartoon song and I ended up with the best friend of my life. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Suzanne: [00:17:37] That was Matthew Dicks. Matthew is an elementary school teacher, best-selling author and a nine-time Moth GrandSLAM champion. Some of his favorite things, play golf poorly, tickle his children and stare at his wife. Oh, and also hang out with Benji. They live 15 minutes away from each other and often get together for long walks and talks where they never run out of things to say. I asked Matthew something that he loved about Benji back then that he still loves about him today.
Matthew: [00:18:07] When we were teenagers, Benji believed in me and genuinely thought I could do great things when almost no one else in my life thought that to be true. He would tell people that I had a great future ahead of me, even when I didn’t fully believe it. It meant the world to me. Even today, more than 30 years later, he remains one of my biggest cheerleaders.
Suzanne: [00:18:35] To see some photos of Matthew and Benji, head over to themoth.org.
In a moment, youth under a looking glass, and adventures on the high seas, when The Moth Radio Hour continues.
Jay: [00:18:49] The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.
Suzanne [00:18:58] This is The Moth Radio Hour. I’m Suzanne Rust. And in this hour we’re exploring stories that look back on the different ages and stages of our lives.
] So much of adolescence involves internal dialogue and struggle. While our friends and family may observe the behavior, the material does not become fodder for the whole country to see, unless you’re Kate Greathead.
[cheers and applause]
She shared her story in New York, where WNYC is a media partner of The Moth. Here’s Kate.
Kate: [00:19:32] When I was in first grade, some people came to my school and made a movie about me. First, they followed me around for a few days to show what my life was like, and then they sat me down on a couch and asked me all these questions, like, did I believe in God? Was America a free country? What was the difference between Black people and white people? When they shot all the footage they needed and it was time for them to leave, I cried, because nothing this wonderful had ever happened to me. Would they promise to come back and make another movie about me? The good news was, yes, they did. The bad news was, not for seven years, which is a long, long time to wait when that’s how old you are.
So, the film is called the Up Series, and the premise is, take a bunch of seven-year-olds from different parts of the country, different socioeconomic backgrounds, interview them every seven years of their lives, see how they turn out. It’s a sociological, psychological study thing. If it sounds familiar, you’ve probably heard of the famous British Up Series. This is the American bootleg. [audience laughter]
When I was seven, I attended a private school on the Upper East Side. So, I was chosen to be the privileged kid, the one everyone is rooting for. A seven-year-old’s dream come true is a 14 year-old’s nightmare. [audience laughter] When the film crew returned, I had some serious reservations.
Well, my parents had just gotten divorced. I went to a new school where I had no friends. And you know when you’re the new kid in school and you have no one to sit with at lunch, so you come out with your tray of food and you find yourself weaving between the tables in the cafeteria, waiting for some kind soul to take pity on you and invite you to sit down? Imagine doing that with a film crew following you. [audience laughter] It was very dignifying.
So, the reason I had no friends was more than just the fact that I was the new kid. It was because I had no personality. I had recently come to realize this [audience laughter] It made me very nervous for the interview portion of the shoot, because how do you answer questions about yourself when you have no self.
So, the interview began with a lot of political questions, which was good because my parents were liberal Democrats, so I knew all the right answers. [audience laughter] How did I feel about the death penalty? It was bad. The president’s sex life? That’s nobody’s business. [audience laughter] So, I was doing okay. And then, the interview shifted gears, and there came a question I was unprepared for. “How did I feel about my parents’ divorce?”
So, my parents had recently split up, very recently. And how I felt about it was sad, very sad. And for that reason, I only agreed to participate in 14 under one condition, which was that I wouldn’t have to talk about it. I’d been promised by different members of the film crew that this would be honored, no questions about the divorce. So, when the question came, I assumed there was a mistake, that the director had gone rogue. [audience laughter]
As I sat there, waiting for another adult in the room to intervene, this didn’t happen. The camera continued to roll and the room got really quiet, the kind of quiet that’s loud. The lights got really bright, and I got hot, and my skin started to burn and prickle, like when you’re standing next to a bonfire. And then, my eyes started to water, like I was crying, because it took me a moment to realize I was crying. And the camera continued to roll and no one yelled cut.
So, a few months later, Age 14 in America comes out, and in one of the reviews, a critic wrote, “The shattered look on Kate’s face speaks volumes about the effect of divorce on adolescents.” I was so mad, because I was like, “How’s that supposed to make me feel?” And yeah, it was an upsetting experience.
A few years ago, I went to a hypnotherapist who told me that in moments of acute psychological distress, where you feel trapped, you emotionally amputate part of yourself. And so, you survive, but you’re broken. Then she told me to close my eyes and we’re going to take a journey back in time, so I could rescue my exiled selves and become whole again.
This was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard, [audience laughter] and I couldn’t believe I’d spent $150 on it. [audience laughter] But I also knew what she meant, because looking back, the most upsetting aspect of the whole experience of being filmed for 14 was this sense of a human disconnect. The distance between my experience of that dismal chapter in my life and the detached curiosity of the viewers who would be watching it on TV.
And after the film crew was done for 14 and they packed up and left to go torment the next kid, I remember feeling diminished, like they’d taken a part of me with them. But every time I get the opportunity to tell the story of it and convey my experience, it feels like I get a little piece back. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Suzanne: [00:25:39] That was Kate Greathead, a Brooklyn-based writer. Her new novel, The Book of George, is out now. Kate said that being a subject of a documentary had lasting effects on her life. Seeing herself from an external perspective compelled her to think more about herself with an objective framing, and she believes that’s what led her to become a writer.
Middle age can be tricky. So, sometimes you just need to do something new to get your sea legs and your groove back. This story was told by Linda Grosser in Boston, where we partner with Public Radio Station WBUR.
[cheers and applause]
And a quick note, the story contains a little sexual content. Here’s Linda.
Linda: [00:26:32] So, I’m in Burlington, Vermont. I’m heading out for a run on the bike path where it turns into the causeway out onto Lake Champlain. And it’s cold and miserable, but I am desperate to shake off this anxiety that I have, because I have to sleep on this boat tonight. I am not far from where my friends are, where I’m staying. I’d been coming up there quite a lot, mostly right after I had left the family home and left my husband of 25 years.
Going to Vermont became like a respite, because I had such tension keeping the secret of my marriage that was failing. And in Vermont, I could sit on their porch, look at the water, just relax and breathe. So, this trip, I’m actually taking a sailing course where I’m going to be spending the entire week living on board this boat. I have claustrophobia. 6 o’clock, I suck it up and I head on down to the harbor.
I go in, and these couple of guys are scurrying around, picking up these parcels with overflowing groceries. We trudge out to the boat. It’s dark and rainy. We shove everything away. Right away, I say, “Guys, it’s okay. I am going to sleep in the saloon tonight.” That’s the middle area that’s between the cabins, and the ceiling is a little bit higher. So, I’m hopeful. The next time I open my eyes, I’d slept through the night. I was so happy. And the sun was shining.
So, meanwhile, I really didn’t ask a whole lot of questions about this trip. I am on this boat, me and these two middle-aged men. The other student is the chef from Toronto. And right off, he starts making these lewd comments. But I am ignoring Dennis, [audience chuckle] because the other guy is tall and lean, [audience laughter] and his looks and his competence on the boat was the most ridiculously sexy combination - [audience laughter] [audience cheers and applause] - that I could possibly imagine. [audience laughter] His name was Errol. [audience laughter] Every morning, we would have some kind of lesson, navigation, trimming the sails, and then we would go out and we would sail for the whole afternoon in the wind and the sun and we would find a quiet cove to anchor at night. I felt such freedom that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
So, it was maybe the third night, and we’re out on the deck, the three of us, and it’s cold. Errol grabs a blanket and throws it over him and me. [audience laughter] And then, we’re holding hands. [audience holler] And my body [audience laughter] is responding. [audience laughter] [audience cheers and applause]
So, Dennis had discreetly gone below. And in quite short order, Errol and I had gone below into his tiny cabin, which by the way, the walls are about as thick as a sheet. [audience laughter] He is fumbling for a condom, which he promptly loses. [audience laughter] And I hear, “Oh, crap, that was the only one I had.” And I say, “I don’t care.” [audience laughter] And he says, “Aren’t you worried about getting pregnant?” And I’m thinking, he has no idea how old I am. [audience laughter]
That sex [audience laughter] was the first time in at least five years, and 25 years since I had sex with a man other than my husband. [audience cheers and applause]
It was a week of adventure. [audience laughter] I mean, the physicality of learning how to handle this boat, and the absolute magic of traveling and living on the water, and reconnecting with feelings that had been shut down after a lot of not-so-happy years in my marriage, that was a week I reclaimed my life. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Suzanne: [00:32:46] That was Linda Grosser. Linda loves photography, teaching storytelling workshops and producing shows that help build emotional human connections. Alas, that romance with Errol fizzled, they just lived too far apart. But Linda still loves sailing, feeling the wind on her face, the physical and technical challenge of navigating and the romance of just being on the water. To see a photo of Linda at the helm, go to themoth.org.
In a moment, must-see TV for kids, and a story about reclaiming connections from the past, when The Moth Radio Hour continues.
Jay: [00:33:28] The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.
Suzanne: [00:33:38] This is The Moth Radio Hour. I’m Suzanne Rust.
And in this episode, we’re hearing stories that reflect on different times of our lives, from adolescence to our later years. Being an adult with a career that requires you to tap into your youth, to figure out what kids like, requires a very particular set of skills, skills that our next storyteller, Ron Hart, happens to possess.
[cheers and applause]
He told this at a Los Angeles SLAM, where we partner with Public Radio Station KCRW. Here’s Ron.
Ron: [00:34:11] I co-created a show for the Disney Channel, so I’m a pretty big deal [audience chuckle] to 12-year-olds. I think I ended up writing for television, because I grew up addicted to sitcoms. I wanted to be cool like Fonzie, tough like George Jefferson, funny like Alf and I wound up with a body like Norm from Cheers. [audience laughter] I write with a partner. Always for other people’s shows, we try to get our own shows on the air for years, and it never worked out. And all those disappointments, they snuffed out my passion for television. My dream job became just a job.
When Disney Channel approached us, I wanted to write for them about as much as most adults want to watch them. But they were going to give us a shot. We needed them. They constantly studied their audience. So, we were like, “So, it’s a show about an older sister mentoring a younger sister.” And they said, “Actually, our research shows that kids are fascinated by twins.” [audience chuckle] So, we said, “So, it’s a show about twins?”
I wanted them to love the show more than I wanted to love it myself. Now, this is how the process continued until eventually we were picking out a title for the show, and we pointed out to them there were a lot of kids’ shows like Austin & Ally, Sam & Cat, Bucket & Skinner. Could we just not name the show after two characters? So, in the summer of 2013, Liv and Maddie premiered. A show I created was on the air. I had the job I aspired to have my entire adult life, and I sucked at it.
There were all these decisions to make, which color to paint the lockers, what kind of dress would Maddie wear to the prom? “Our research shows that Liv should have a best friend, or a dog. Which one?” I was supposed to be the guy with a vision, but it’s not like this show sprang out from a passion burning inside of me. I had no vision. But once we were on the air, it was time for us to become part of Disney Channel’s research, Focus-Group-Testing.
We went to an office park, sat behind a two-way mirror, and watched middle schoolers shred my life’s work. [audience laughter] We did okay with the girls. We did okay. But they showed an episode to a room full of 12-year-old boys. They all took their hoodies and pulled them all the way over their faces. [audience laughter] They hated us more than broccoli. They told the interviewer things like, “This show is dumb,” and Disney Channel guy was just scribbling away next to me. I thought we were going to be canceled before I got my parking validated.
But then, one boy, one brave, beautiful boy said, “I think Liv is hot.” [audience laughter] Now, the same actress played Liv and Maddie, but I was not about to judge this goddamn hero. [audience laughter] Because with the heart of a lion, he shrugged off all the other boys laughing at him and told that interviewer our show was funny. And that courage cracked a door open just enough for the others to come out. And they all admitted they watched the show too. Once they were out of the closet, the dam burst. They liked the little brother. The Halloween episode was their favorite.
One kid said he liked to sing the theme song to himself, but was afraid that other guys would catch him and tease him. They started quoting scenes to each other. These dudes weren’t just watching the show, they were fans. [audience chuckle] And Disney Channel guy had no idea what was going on. But I understood, because when I was 12, I was addicted to Laverne & Shirley. [audience laughter] But I would lie and say, “My sister likes that show.”
12-year-old me could not say he liked a show about girls. But in that conference room, these 12-year-old boys’ minds were melting, because they realized they weren’t freaks for liking Liv & Maddie. One kid choked back tears and said, “I thought I was the only boy watching.” [audience laughter] And it struck a nerve for me.
For the first time in years, that spark of passion that had drawn me to television had fuel to the fire. As a producer, I don’t want boys to be ashamed to watch my show. As a human, I don’t want boys to be ashamed to watch stories about girls. I knew we had to tell the boys out there watching Liv & Maddie in their secret closets of shame that it was okay.
So, I came up with this episode.
Listen to this crazy storyline. The little brother of Liv and Maddie is a secret fan of this girly show we made up called Linda & Heather. [audience laughter] His friends catch him singing the girly theme song and they make fun of him, but he has the heart of a lion and he tells them he loves Linda & Heather, and that cracks the door open just enough for all of his friends to admit they love the show too.
The network didn’t think this was going to work, and I got to say, “Actually, our research shows that kids will relate to this story.” [audience laughter] But when it was time to write the speech where the little brother has to declare his love for Linda & Heather, I had to think about why I loved Liv & Maddie. And I realized I was proud of the show. It was funny, we had positive messages, our audience loved us. And the crew got excited for this Linda & Heather episode. The writers even told me they had taken it upon themselves to write the theme song to Linda & Heather.
[clears throat] Pink Pink Pink, Girls Girls Girls, Glitter Glitter Glitter, Twirls Twirls Twirls! Together forever! We're Linda and Heather! Best Friends! [audience laughter] [audience cheers and applause and holler]
It was so horrible, and it was exactly what I wanted. I had a vision and they were following it. I had learned how to run a television show by creating a fake one. I remembered why I was writing for television, because I loved it. It matters to people. It matters to me. I have a passion for my job again, because I co-created a show for the Disney Channel. So, I’m a pretty big deal to 12-year-olds.
[cheers and applause]
Suzanne: [00:40:47] That was Ron Hart. Ron is a writer and producer, who has worked extensively for Nickelodeon and the Disney Channel with his writing partner, John D. Beck. They are currently developing a new show.
Ron, a self-confessed TV addict whose favorite shows growing up were classics like I Dream of Jeannie, The Brady Bunch and Mork & Mindy, believes that if people are having fun on set, that energy will show up in the episodes and the audience will be drawn to it. So, he says that he makes a joyful workplace, a priority.
I asked Ron what he has learned about children over the years. And he said that writing for an audience of kids really showed him that the stories and characters they watch mean a lot to them, which reminds him that even when he’s making something very silly, he needs to treat it seriously, because it matters so much to them. To see a photo of Ron, go to themoth.org.
One of the beautiful things about life, is that when you least expect it, surprise connections can come your way and full-circle moments are always possible at any stage of our lives.
[cheers and applause]
This final story was told by Karen Mooney Lascher in Portland, Oregon. We partner with Oregon Public Broadcasting. Here’s Karen.
Karen: [00:42:10] It was Mother’s Day 2010, and I had gotten up and took a little bit of extra time getting ready that day, which was unusual for me. And went to church and then came home and got ready to celebrate with my family. This was a little bit odd in my life for two reasons. The first reason, was that I was in the restaurant business. I usually spent my Mother’s Day managing the celebrations of others, not celebrating myself. And the second reason was because, well, Mother’s Day was kind of muddy waters for me.
You see, as far as the world knew, I had become a mother nine years earlier when I gave birth to my daughter. But in reality, when I was 23, on May 6th, 1987, I had given birth to a little girl. And for the few days after she was born, I held her oh so tightly, but not too tightly, because people tell you, “You can’t really form a bond,” as if a bond doesn’t exist between a mother and a child, as if I hadn’t carried her for nine months, as if I hadn’t talked to her for the last five months. As soon as I could feel her move, I talked to her every day. She was part of my life. We had a bond.
But I followed their advice, and I would just come to the hospital a few times a day. Sometimes I would just look at her through the nursery, and sometimes I would hold her. She was born on Wednesday. And on Saturday, I came to the hospital and they gave me a little room, like a little private room, like an office kind of a thing. They set me in there, and the nurse came and brought my daughter to me. We sat in that room and I held her oh so tightly, and I wished her health, and happiness, and joy, and laughter, and a handsome prince, and grand adventures and everything that a mother wishes for her daughter and I said goodbye.
And the next day was Mother’s Day. I went to my parents’ house to celebrate Mother’s Day with my mother. I put on a pretty good face, I think we all did, but at some point, I retreated to a bedroom and I laid down on a bed and I cried. No, I sobbed. I think it’s more like wailing, that deep within where I didn’t know pain could be so deep.
On that same Mother’s Day, there was a young woman who had wailed those same wails for years, because she couldn’t have children. She came from a huge, large family. And on that Mother’s Day, she gathered with that huge, large family, all of them together and they welcomed this little girl into their family. She held that little girl. And in that moment, in the wake of her immeasurable grief, there was great joy and it was a great celebration.
So, Mother’s Day was a little complex for me. But on this Mother’s Day, I was there with my husband and my daughter, and my parents were there, and a few of my siblings were coming later in the afternoon with their kids and we were having a celebration. There was this nervous excitement and anticipation in the room. The doorbell rang, and I went to the door, and I took a deep breath [inhales deeply] and I opened the door and the 23 year-old version of myself stood on the other side. She looked at me and she said, “Well, wow, I would sure know you were my mom if I saw you when walking down the street.” [audience laughter]
We laughed and we cried. Her mother was there, had brought her. Her mother said to me, “On Mother’s Day, you gave me the greatest gift ever. And on this Mother’s Day, I wanted to give that gift to you.” And in all those years of grief, after all those years of grief, there was great joy. And it was a huge celebration.
[cheers and applause]
Suzanne: [00:47:17] That was Karen Mooney Lascher. Karen lives and travels the Pacific Northwest in her Happy Day van, where she says her mission is to encourage and promote positivity, authenticity and love. She is lovingly known to many as Karen the Dancing Lady. I asked Karen what some of her thoughts were when she first met her daughter.
Karen: [00:47:38] It’s a lot to reconnect with a child that you have released for adoption. You don’t know what’s happening in their life and what’s happening in your life at that time, and just all of it. So, it has been lovely, lovely getting to know her. Her name is Allie. I think for me the things that strike me are it really released me from the wondering. For the first 10 years after she was born were very difficult for me. I remember distinctly feeling like, when I’m 40, my daughter will be 18, and that’s when she could find me if she wanted to find me on her own.
Suzanne: [00:48:31] To see a photo of Karen with her daughters, go to themoth.org.
That’s it for this episode of The Moth Radio Hour. I’d like to thank our storytellers for sharing a little part of themselves with us, and all of you for listening. We hope you’ll join us next time.
[overture music]
Jay: [00:48:58] This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, and Suzanne Rust, who also hosted the show. Coproducer is Viki Merrick. Associate producer, Emily Couch. GrandSLAM coaching by Chloe Salmon.
The rest of The Moth’s leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Sarah Austin Jenness, Jenifer Hixson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Klutse, Lee Ann Gullie, Brandon Grant, Sarah Jane Johnson and Aldi Kaza.
Moth stories are true, as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers. Our theme music is by The Drift. Other music in this hour from Trombone Shorty, Matchstick Piano Man, Steve Fawcett, John Scofield, RJD2 and Duke Levine. We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts.
The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. Special thanks to our friends at Audacy, including executive producer, Leah Reis-Dennis. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.