Arts & Entertainment
Singer Aaron Carter comes out as bisexual
the pop star says he has been attracted to men and women since he was 13
Pop singer Aaron Carter has come out as bisexual.
The 29-year-old revealed he is attracted to both men and women in an open letter posted on Twitter.
“Thereās something Iād like to say that I feel is important for myself and my identity that has been weighing on my chest for nearly half of my life,” Carter begins. “This doesnāt bring me shame, just a weight and burden I have held onto for a long time that I would like lifted off me.”
“I grew up in this entertainment industry at a very young age and when I was around 13-years-old I started to find boys and girls attractive,” he continues.Ā “There were years that went by that I thought about, but it wasnāt until I was 17-years-old, after a few relationships with girls, I had an experience with a male that I had an attraction to who I also worked with and grew up with.”
Carter ended the post with a quote by Boy George, “The best quote to sum ‘I’ve never felt as though I didn’t belong, I just acted as though I did.'”
The singer split with his girlfriend Madison Parker just days before coming out on Twitter.
In July, Carter was arrested on suspicion of DUI and marijuana charges while driving in Georgia with Parker who was also arrested for drug charges and obstruction of law enforcement.
While Carter has admitted to having a substance abuse problem in the past he told Entertainment Tonight he was not under the influence while driving.
“I don’t need help,” Carter said. “What I need is for people to understand that I’m human and that I make mistakes just like every other human in this world, but I would never risk my life or my girlfriend’s life.
ā Aaron Carter (@aaroncarter) August 6, 2017
The 2024 Winchester Pride festival was held on the grounds of the Museum of the Shenandoah Valley in Winchester, Va. on Saturday, Oct. 5. Performers included LaLa Ri of “RuPaul’s Drag Race.”
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
Star of “Pose” Dominique Jackson was the special guest at the vogue party “Kunty” on Saturday, Oct. 5 at Bunker.Ā DJ Mascari provided the music.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
Theater
āActing their asses offā in āException to the Ruleā
Studio production takes place during after-school detention
āException to the Ruleā
Through Sunday, October 27
Studio Theatre
1501 14th St. NW, Washington, D.C.
$40-$95
Studiotheatre.org
After-school detention is a bore, but itās especially tiresome on the last day of classes before a holiday.
In Dave Harrisās provocative new play āException to the Ruleā (now at Studio Theatre) thatās just the case.
Itās Friday, and the usual suspects are reporting to room 111 for detention before enjoying the long MLK weekend. First on the scene are blaring ābad girlā Mikayla (Khalia Muhammad) and nerdy stoner Tommy (Stephen Taylor Jr.), followed by mercurial player Dayrin (Jacques Jean-Mary), kind Dasani (Shana Lee Hill), and unreadable Abdul (Khouri St.Surin).
The familiar is jaw-droppingly altered by the entrance of āCollege Bound Erikaā (Sabrina Lynne Sawyer), a detention first timer whose bookworm presence elicits jokes from the others: What happened? You fail a test?
Dasani (whoās teased for being named for designer water) dubs Erika āSweet Peaā and welcomes her to the rule-breaking fold. Together the regulars explain how detention works: The moderator, Mr. Bernie, shows up, signs their slips, and then they go. But today the teacher is tardy.
As they wait, the kids pass the time laughing, trash talking, flirting, and yelling. When not bouncing around the classroom, Dayrin is grooming his hair, while Dasani endlessly reapplies blush and lip gloss. At one point two boys almost come to blows, nearly repeating the cafeteria brawl that landed them in detention in the first place.
Itās loud. Itās confrontational. And itās funny.
Erika is naively perplexed: āI thought detention was quiet. A place where everyone remembers the mistakes that got them here and then learns how to not make the same mistakes again.ā
For room 111, the only connection to the outside world is an increasingly glitchy and creepy intercom system. Announcements (bus passes, the schoolās dismal ranking, the impending weekend lockdown, etc.) are spoken by the unseen but unmistakably stentorian-voiced Craig Wallace.
Dave Harris first conceived āException to the Ruleā in 2014 during his junior year at Yale University. In the program notes, the Black playwright describes āException to the Ruleā as āa single set / six actors on a stage, just acting their asses off.ā Itās true, and they do it well.
Miranda Haymon is reprising their role as director (they finely helmed the playās 2022 off-Broadway debut at Roundabout Theatre Company in New York). Haymon orchestrates a natural feel to movement in the classroom, and without entirely stilling the action on stage (makeup applying, scribbling, etc.), the out director gives each member of the terrific cast their revelatory moment. In a busy room, we learn that Tommyās goofiness belies trauma, that Mikayla is admirably resourceful, and most startling, why Erika, the schoolās top student, is in detention.
Mr. Bernie is clearly a no-show. And despite his absence, the regulars are bizarrely loath to leave the confines of 111 for fear of catching yet another detention. Of course, itās emblematic of something bigger. Still, things happen within the room.
While initially treated as a sort of mascot, awkwardly quiet Erika becomes rather direct in her questions and observations. Suddenly, sheās rather stiffly doling out unsolicited advice.
Itās as if an entirely new person has been thrown into the mix.
Not all of her guidance goes unheeded. Take fighting for instance. At Erikaās suggestion, St.Surinās Abdul refrains from kicking Dayrinās ass. (Just feet from the audience gathered for a recent matinee in Studioās intimate Mead Theatre, Abdulās frustration resulting from anger while yearning for a world of principled order is palpable as evidenced when a single tear rolled down the actorās right cheek)
Set designer Tony Cisek renders a no-frills classroom with cinder block walls, a high and horizontal row of frosted fixed windows that become eerily prison like when overhead fluorescent lighting is threateningly dimmed.
Still, no matter how dark, beyond the classroom door, a light remains aglow, encouraging the kids to ponder an exit plan.