upworthy

Heroes

Robin Williams performs on stage.

Robin Williams once beautifully said, "I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy. Because they know what it feels like to feel absolutely worthless and they don't want anybody else to feel like that."

One night at a comedy club in Los Angeles, a new, nervous stand-up comic was called to the stage by the emcee. In one hand, she casually had a beer that she propped up on the piano. In the other, was her notebook full of scribbled, half-written joke premises and a few wine stains. She did her opening joke and the response was so quiet, she could hear the ice machine crackling in the kitchen. Joke two — a slight spattering of nervous laughter. Joke three got a heartier laugh, but then it went back to deafening quiet by joke four.

She mercifully got through her final joke, and said "That's my time" long before the red light in the back of the club even went on. She scurried off stage with her beer, like that rat in New York carrying a piece of pizza. Panicked, embarrassed, and frankly — a little hungry.

It was just one of those nights. The last time she'd done this act — same words nearly exactly — she'd received an applause break. This time, she was left questioning every one of her life decisions. Why had she come to Los Angeles? How was the next month's rent supposed to get paid? Why had she cut her hair in the "Rachel-styled" haircut?

As she was about to enter the hallway that led into the bar area, she could feel actual tears forming behind her eyes, like little faucets that were slowly turning on. "Don't cry at the comedy club," she told herself. Rather, "Don't cry at the comedy club AGAIN." But as the tears came anyway, she looked up and lo and behold, there was Robin Williams. She stuttered, "You. Are. One of my favorites. Ever." He looked at her, his blue eyes warmly crinkling and said, "You were amazing."

It hadn't been true. But the fact that he would go out of his way to make this total stranger's awful night into one of her best at that time, was just the kind of person Robin was.

I know this because that woman was me.

I wanted to tell him about the Mork and Mindy poster on my wall as a kid, and how I had cut out Mindy's face and put in my third-grade class photo. I wanted to tell him how much I loved his care for animals and for the unhoused and for the less fortunate. Or that because of him, I had a weird fetish for suspenders. (The last one wasn't quite true, but I still wanted to say it.)

But instead I merely laughed and said "Oh, thank you. But I can do better." He gave me a gentle look like, "We're all in this together," and even though I knew I'd never have a career like his, it dawned on me that it didn't matter. That being kind to others actually DID matter and that he was a lighthouse in a really stormy, pitch-black ocean.

I stuck it out and just a few years later, got to perform in the super cool and coveted "New Faces" show at the Just for Laughs Montreal Comedy Fest. Didn't kill there either, but I was able to step back and look down from an aerial view. How we uplift others, whether through laughter or kindness, is really the only control we have in this world.

Years later, after Robin passed away, I had heart surgery and was feeling down. I had read that cardiac issues could leave a person biochemically depressed and the first person I thought of was him. I messaged our mutual friend from San Francisco and asked if he remembered Robin speaking to him about heart surgery and depression. He only affirmed that yes, it was a very real side effect and that I should take it seriously.

I have always thought of the neurotransmitter Serotonin like it was a flowery perfume. Notes of honey, lavender, rose. When someone has a good amount of it floating through their synapses, it leaves trace of itself wherever it goes, as if the tunnels it burrows under pumps it out through a steam grate. But from what I've heard, Robin struggled with that too. And yet he still found a way to leave a lovely and inviting scent behind him, because he wanted to make sure OTHERS were okay.

heart, robin williams, comediansA heart shaped neon sign in the dark Photo by DESIGNECOLOGIST on Unsplash

I guess, even in his death, I was looking to Robin for answers. But one puzzle remains solved: making others happy is the kindest thing we can do, even when our own valves --- whether heart or perfume pumps --- fail to work.

This article originally appeared in April.

Play Catch With a Dad/Facebook

Adllyship comes in many forms.

So much about allyship is helping to make those who are excluded feel welcome again. And there are numerous ways to accomplish that.

For John Piermatteo, allyship came in the form of simply playing catch. Over the past five years, Piermatteo, a straight dad, has been showing up to Pride events offering to toss a ball around with members of the LGBTQ+ community.

Inspired by the “mom hugs” and “grandmother hugs” he’d seen offered at Pride events, the straight dad thought that a game of catch was a unique and personal way to offer a meaningful father figure experience to those who might have been rejected by their own families.

Piermatteo first brought his idea to life in 2019 at York Unity Fest in York, Pennsylvania, where he sat under a tree, football at the ready, next to a hand painted sign that read “Play Catch With a Dad.”


It took several trips past my sign before anyone engaged,” he recalls on his website. “I watched people go by looking at the sign out of the side of their eye, then, on the next pass, they might make eye contact with me.”

Eventually, people began walking up to Piermatteo directly to ask “Can I play catch with you?” The exchanges easily turned emotional.

“ I lost count of the number of times we both cried. It was powerful.”

Play Catch With A Dad | Facebook

Play Catch With A Dad | Facebookwww.facebook.com

Despite taking a setback during COVID, “Play Catch With a Dad” has turned into a full on movement, with Piermeeto and friend traveling nationwide to toss the ol’ pigskin with folks with upward of hundreds of people per day.

So far, they’ve visited not only York, Lancaster, Lititz and Chambersburg in Pennsylvania, but San Diego Pride and Phoenix Pride as well. In 2025, they plan to add Maryland and Chicago to the list.

Playing catch is just one of those activities that instantly evokes the image of a safe, healthy, loving father-child relationship. And considering that at least one study has shown that upwards of 70% of lesbian, gay, and bisexual youth experience some degree of parental rejection of their sexual identity, it’s easy to see how this innocent offering likely fills a yearning for so many.

Piermatteo’s contribution, and the massively positive response to it, shows that where allyship does take action, it’s often the simplest acts of compassion that make the most meaningful impact. Yes, we need to fight for policies that protect LGBTQ individuals from discrimination, but sometimes…playing catch really is enough to say “you are welcome, just as you are.”

If you’d like to donate to Play Catch With Dad, or even set up a Play Catch With a Dad event in your area, you can find more information here.

Image via Canva

Elementary school teacher Alice Yates does hair for student who lost a parent.

Teachers play a much larger role than simply being educators. And elementary school teacher Alice Yates (@missaliceinteacherland) understands what it means to go above and beyond for her students, especially those in need.

In a new video shared on Instagram, Yates shared an emotional video about a student who recently lost a parent. After noticing she was coming to school with her hair unbrushed most days, she decided to step in with kindness and help take care of her by doing her hair everyday.

In the start of the video, Yates shows herself brushing out a little girl's hair as she tells her story in the captions. "A few months ago one of my student's parent died pretty suddenly...she was coming to school with her hair not even brushed most days," she writes. "I just wanted to help where I could. So I bought a cheap comb and hair ties so that I could at least do a basic pony for her to get her hair out of her face."


The small act of love did not go unnoticed. Her other students noticed Yates doing the student's hair, and wanted to get their hair done, too. "Then the other girls in the class started asking if I'd do their hair too. Now during breakfast, we have chitchats while we do hair! I wouldn't trade this time for anything. It has helped us all become so much closer.❤️"

She goes on to explain that she wasn't sure if parents would be okay with it, but was put at ease after getting a thankful message from one.

"I was a little nervous some parents might take it the wrong way that I'm doing their kids hair, but then I got this message: 'I just FaceTimed with [student's name] and saw her hair. It was adorable. Thank you for being extra sweet to my girl while I'm away. I don't even know what her hair looked like when she came in lol."

Yates offered more details as to why she treasures the personal interactions with her students. "I love being the teacher that I needed growing up...when I was a kid many of my teachers didn’t take the time to get to know us. They didn’t really show us love, tell us about their family, or even ask about ours," she writes. "They showed up, taught from a McGraw Hill Teacher Guide and went home. I think back on school and I hated it most years. I can count on one hand the teachers that I felt safe and happy with."

It was that experience that made her want to be a different teacher. "School filled me with so much anxiety and I think it’s a huge reason why I pour my heart and soul into teaching now," she writes. "I find so much comfort in looking into a parents eyes and telling them that I will take care of their baby, and they look back and me and know I mean it. ❤️"

Yates' emotional video got an incredibly supportive response from viewers. "And that’s a vocation right there & exactly the teacher our children need 💕," one wrote. Another shared, "This is beautiful bc when I was in 3rd grade my dad almost died in a motorcycle accident. Needless to say with no family nearby, most days I was barely dressed much less brushed. My teacher would bring barrettes to put up my hair and ill never forget the difference it made in my life ♡." And another viewer added, "They will never forget you and the time you took for them ❤️."

If you would like to contribute to Miss Alice's classroom, you can shop her Amazon Classroom Wishlist here.


This article originally appeared in March

WikiMedia Commons

The model reflects, nearly six decades later

In 1967, the world was Twiggy’s oyster. The English model, whose look and style had become emblems of the Swinging Sixties—think big eyes, a pixie cut, lots of mascara, and androgynous looks—had evolved from a promising teen icon into an international superstar. Her power was undeniable, her zeal for life, irreplaceable. Yet, when director Woody Allen met the young star in 1967, he didn’t greet her with kindness.

Instead, the 31-year-old director (at the time) sought to embarrass her. He wanted to ridicule her; to make Twiggy feel small. In front of a live studio audience, he asked her: “What are your views on serious matters?” At the time, the 17-year-old Twiggy was on her first visit to the United States. Her face crumbles; her lips twist up and eyes look nervous. “Like what?” she replies, frowning.


model, looking distressed “Like what?” YouTube


“Like, who’s your favorite philosopher?” he replies, his voice dripping with condescension.

Her eyes light up in surprise. She laughs, charmingly, in what could almost pass for as delight, before admitting, “I haven’t got one. I don’t know any.” She sticks her tongue out, before adding: “Who’s yours?”

Everything stays still for a second, before it flips. Allen, now the surprised one, sort of fumbles around, and retorts, “Oh, I don’t know. I like them all,” sheepishly. At this point in the interview, Twiggy realizes what’s going on and zeroes in with the accuracy and confidence of a hawk circling its prey. Before he can finish speaking, she asks, “Who?”


model being interviewed "Who?" is shot like a bullet. YouTube


Meekly, Allen says “You know, all your basic philosophers…”

This time, Twiggy is ready, almost eager for his reply. “Who?” she shoots back like a bullet.

“I don’t know, I just,” begins Allen, before Twiggy says back, “But I don’t know their names. What are their names?”

The uncomfortable clip ends, with Allen looking dumbfounded at the camera, with Twiggy in the background, coquettish as ever, sticking her tongue out. Like many others, when I saw this interview for the first time, I thought ‘Wow, what a badass Twiggy is.” Women face this type of misogyny all the time: timid, cowardly men who are insecure about their intelligence, taunting them about what they know or do not know in order to feel better about themselves. It’s horrible, to get caught in such a trap. Which makes Twiggy’s gracefulness—the deftness in maneuvering through such an encounter—all the more impressive and delightful.


model sticking tongue outTwiggy is a delightYouTube


On YouTube, where the clip was reshared by Igor Aleshin, the comments are filled with admirers of the British fashion star. “Her retort was perfect, cheeky, funny, and totally deflected him. Well done, Twiggs,” writes @dianesilva1078. From @mariachalke7905: “How perfectly she deflected his arrogance, but with good humor. He was already showing his colors.” Then, from @TessaBlackwell-re8jx: “I love how the light dawns in her eyes, like, ‘Oh, you want to play like THAT. And then, it’s all on.”


Twiggy reflects, nearly 60 years later

In a more recent clip that resurfaced last week, a now 75-year-old Twiggy remembers that fateful day. While doing press for director Sadie Frost’s 2024 documentary about her, Twiggy reveals that everything wasn’t effortless and cheeky for her that day. “He was trying to make me look stupid,” she told reporters. “My heart sank. I remember looking at him, pleading with my eyes for him to stop. If I was the age he was there, in my 30s, I would have never behaved like that towards someone who was only 17.”

During an appearance on “The One Show,” Twiggy also reflected on her on-camera encounter with the director, calling it “horrible” and that she felt “humiliated.” And despite her confident, brazen outward appearance, she admitted to feeling small on the inside. “I was in panic,” she explains. “I just didn’t want to cry.”


Lessons to be learned

Although it’s terrible, the way Woody Allen behaved towards Twiggy—publicly trying to shame a teenager—it’s nice to know that feeling scared and insignificant can really look like this: confident, badass, and undeniably cool. There are so many moment that we stop ourselves, from speaking up, from doing the right thing, from asking to be treated with respect, because we’re afraid. But Twiggy as powerfully demonstrates, both in 1967 and now, that rebellion and change can feel scary. And that’s OK. Check out the entire clip, below.


@dailymailshowbiz

Twiggy spoke out on her uncomfortable encounter with director Woody Allen at her premiere last night to DailyMail. In the 1967 interview, Allen attempted to humiliate her by asking who her favourite philosopher was in front of a studio audience, on her first trip to the US. 🎥 DailyMail


This article originally appeared in March